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I chew the bite of my croissant. “You know, I was thinking we could just relax. Read a book, lounge, and eat all the sweets we bought yesterday.”
She grins. “I love that idea.”
“I don’t mind helping in the field then,” Bruno tells Felice.
The olive groves are their primary source of income. Whenever we visit and Bruno has free time, he always offers to help Felice. My vacations in Italy bore him. When I told him it was a self-care opportunity for him, he told me his self-care was homicide.
The men leave after breakfast. Aunt Aida and I chat while cleaning up. We spend the rest of the day lounging on the terrace, catching up with life, and binging baked goods.
Antonio is in my thoughts all day, a brain-eating infection I can’t get rid of. When the breeze hits the patio at a certain angle, Ismellhim.
Not his cologne.
His cum.
The way he marked me.
And I grin, anticipation settling inside me as I wait for his next visit.
Wearing my sexiest lingerie, I sit in bed and wait for Antonio.
As the night grows later and despite my attempts to stay awake, I doze off.
The first time I wake, I check the time.
Two in the morning.
No Antonio.
So I shut off the lamp and snuggle into my pillow.
The next time is abrupt.
An intruder rips my blanket off me, smothers his hand over my nose and mouth, and roughly squeezes my cheeks. The mattress dips when he crawls into my bed.
His body lingers over mine, a haunting ghost, while his free hand delves underneath my lingerie. He forces my legs apart, yanks down my panties, and sinks to his knees between my parted ones.
I suck in deep breaths when he withdraws his hand and don’t scream for help or panic. Instead, I maintain my composureand inhale the intoxicating smell of my newest obsession while awaiting his next move.
Goose bumps spread along my skin when he pushes my knees forward, causing them to nearly hit my chest, and traces his tongue up my center.
“Good girl,” Antonio praises from between my legs, taking another swipe with his tongue before shoving a finger inside me. “The taste of us is fucking delectable.”
I grin at his appreciative groan as he eases up my body.
He grips my jaw, forcing it downward, and jams his finger inside my mouth. “Tell me how good we taste together,” he orders, his lips almost touching mine.
Since his finger is lodged halfway down my throat, responding isn’t easy, so I choose not to.
He forces another finger inside to prove he doesn’t appreciate my disobedience, thrusting them past my tonsils, causing me to gag. “I asked you a question.”
With his fingers still in my mouth, he repositions himself. It’s too hard to keep track of his movements. Somehow, he’s shifted to straddle one of my legs, pressing a knee against my core.
I nearly choke on his fingers when he rubs his knee against my clit in circles.
It isn’t gentle but feels so damn good.
Antonio is teaching me I enjoy roughness.
