I’m wrapped around Antonio as he comes.

I stare into his face. I want to hide, but as always, the only place I have left to hide is in plain sight.

I tried retreating—both when he asked me to get nude and when he started fucking me. But the current of discontent in me runs too deep.

I’ve been having too much fun here. I’ve done very little work. I don’t know if I trust the brothers so much that I believe I won’t find anything dirty on them—or if I just don’t want to find something.

Tears almost come to my eyes now. I know I don’t want to believe it. Even if I’m scared to look, I need to have the courage to find out the truth.

Antonio slides out of me gently and falls against the lounge, throwing my legs onto his lap. He leans his head back, his eyes closed.

His quiet manner and thoughtful gaze would unnerve most people. They would see it as an arrogant defense, but I know better. He has a sweet soul.

All the brothers do.

My pussy’s aching deep inside, missing that hard fury that was just there. I’m not done—no way. The misery in me as I examine the choices I must make very soon only fuels my lust.

I slip forward, folding down between Antonio’s knees. He looks down at me, strokes my cheek, and looks like he’s about to speak.

If he penetrates me with that soft gaze, I’ll break. I know it.

I do the only thing I can and lean down. I push his hands away and get my lips around his cock. I suck the head into my mouth and roll it across my tongue.

Immediately, he starts to get hard again. I feel his hands softly on my hair.

I take my time, licking down the shaft and exploring every edge with my tongue before sucking him down deep into my throat again. I bring up a hand and rub his balls, gently pressing them between my fingers, cupping him and grazing my fingertips along them to feel them clench back up to his body covered in gooseflesh.

The shivers run down his legs, and I feel it through my hand on his knee. Slowly, I caress his cock with my lips and tongue. He’s getting even harder than the last time.

He pulls me up by the shoulders, and I slip up into his lap. His cock is pointing straight up, and I’m so wet he slides straight in. He puts his hands on my lower back as I grab his shoulders.

We begin to rock, looking into each other’s eyes. He leans forward to kiss me.

His lips are still wet from my pussy. We slide together in such small intimate movements, our bodies pressed together. Our lips slide over our tongues, and I can hear myself making small, short cries of need.

I can’t do this. I’m going to cry. I’m going to break.

I push him away hard with my hands on his shoulders, leaning him against the couch. I can’t look into his shocked blue eyes, so I get up quickly. I turn around and lean back, one hand down to guide his cock into my pussy.

I grip his knees, looking out into his art studio as he grabs my hips and thrusts. He grabs one shoulder and leans forward.

It still feels too intimate—our hearts and breaths coming together with the rise and fall of our chests. I stay reversed on his lap for a few minutes, enjoying the change in angle and the purchase his knees give me.

As he starts to pull me back toward him while kissing my neck and playing with my hair, I push myself forward onto that hardwood floor on my hands and knees. I poke my ass high in the air, my pussy juices dripping down my legs.

I hear Antonio gasp as he comes forward on the floor, reaching his tongue into me as he gets down. Then he grabs my hips and guides his cock in.

I point my ass up as high as I can and swing from my knees in response to his hard thrusts. The force is so great I go down on my elbows. Harder and harder he thrusts, as he begins to moan.

I fall on my chest, hands scrabbling at the floor as he rams me harder and faster. He holds my hips steady so I can’t slip away as he forces his cock in as deep as it can go, again and again.

As I’m grasping at the floor and trying to get a grip so I can thrust back, I realize I’m whispering his name. All my attempts to remove the intimacy have been futile. The heat within me is not just in my pussy—it’s in my heart and in my mind.

I love this. I love him.

We slip down as his weight and passion keep slamming me until we lie flat on the floor. Antonio reaches out and covers my hands as he comes, gasping, laying against me.

His hot and throbbing cock twitches deep inside me. He kisses my neck and strokes my hair.

They must be getting sick of me by now—all of them. One woman is only hot and irresistible for so long. They’re going to want to hunt for fresh pussy soon.

I can’t give them the emotion and intimacy they crave. I have too many secrets, too many years of working as a cold, emotionless killer.

Any moment now, they’ll close the door on me: So long, thanks for the sex, but we found something better now.

They deserve better. Who could love a messed-up killer like me?

Not a gentle artist, a fiery daredevil, or a fun-loving party boy. They need a real woman—a warm one. It’s only a matter of time before I have to kiss each of these gorgeous boys goodbye.

I’m not sure, but I think a lone tear rolls down my cheek.