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I arrived at the house later that night, long after the sun had set over the Tuscan fields. My Jaguar sat in the driveway, and I walked into the house, seeing most of the lights were on, probably because Adelina didn’t like the dark.
I walked into the kitchen first and saw her standing in front of the refrigerator. She immediately shut the door like she’d been caught doing something she shouldn’t.
I set my keys and wallet on the counter. “You can eat whenever you want. I said that already.” I didn’t treat her like a slave, and I hated it when she acted like it. But some habits died hard.
She’d recently taken a shower because her hair was damp. It was nearly dry, and it framed her face in a different way than usual. Her cheeks had a little more color because of the warm water, and her eyes sparkled because she clearly felt comfortable being clean on a regular basis. What aroused me the most was the fact that she was wearing my sweatpants and t-shirt. It was unflattering to her curvy frame, but it still got my imagination going. I pictured her pulling on my clothes after she rode my cock for the night.
Now I was hard.
She pulled out a few things from the fridge and started to make a sandwich.
I stood there and watched her smear mustard onto the Italian bread, imagining licking that yellow sauce away from her mouth. After my horrible conversation with Pearl, I still desired this woman when I shouldn’t. But now all I could think about was kissing her, pressing her against the kitchen island and moving my hands to her womanly hips. Making out wasn’t high on my list of fantasies, but I really enjoyed kissing her.
I wasn’t sure why.
When she realized I was staring at her, she looked up. The knife was still held in her hand, stained with the yellow mustard. She knew something was coming, and she waited for it.
I walked around the counter until I was right by her side. I noticed the way her breathing picked up, the way her chest lifted with the deep breaths she took. She pressed her lips together, and when she opened them again, I saw the way her lips stuck together before they finally dragged apart.
I came up behind her and pressed my chest to her back, my mouth close to her neck. My hands moved to the counter on either side of her, and I didn’t bother taking the knife from her hand. She wouldn’t stab me with it—even if her friend weren’t being held captive. She wouldn’t hurt me because she liked me—even if she wouldn’t admit it.
I finally pressed my lips against her skin and gave her a soft kiss, softer than a butterfly landing on a rose petal. But her reaction was as strong as an avalanche. She inhaled again, shivering the second my mouth came into contact with her body.
My mouth moved over her ear, and I let my warm breath drift across the opening, wanting her to hear my arousal. My lips found the shell of her ear and pressed a gentle kiss there. I loved feeling her reactions to me, feeling her tighten and relax simultaneously. My hands moved to her hips through the loose fabric, and I slowly turned her around. She didn’t fight me, but she took her time facing me.
When we were face-to-face, she looked into my eyes with parted lips. Her chest still rose and fell at a rapid rate, and I remembered exactly how those hard nipples felt against my chest when I grinded on top of her.
My hand moved up her body, purposely feeling the outline of her tit through the fabric of her shirt, and up to her cheek. My fingers cupped her face, and my thumb ran along her bottom lip, feeling the softness against the pad of my skin. My pinkie could feel the strong pulse in her neck, her quickened heartbeat under my touch. There was no repulsion or disdain in her expression.
She was practically begging me to kiss her.
I just wished she would beg me to fuck her too.
I crowded her against the kitchen island until I could feel the swell of her breasts against my chest. If I pushed hard enough, I could feel her nipples press through the fabric. My lips were just inches from hers, but I didn’t kiss her. I closed my eyes and treasured the feel of her warm breath falling on my skin. I’d never paused a kiss just to feel the anticipation a little longer. I’d never felt the prickle of my skin, the excitement in my veins like this. “Tell me to kiss you.” I wanted to listen to her want me, even if it was just pretend.
