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“Would you roll your eyes if I saidThe Godfather?”
“Ah, yes. The sacred story of our people.” I lean against him, wishing I could just tell him. I know it’s stupid. But this moment feels so cozy and domestic.
Almost like we’re married for real.
“Ava?”
“Yes?
“Do you see the pen and paper on the coffee table in front of you?”
I look, and sure enough, there it is. “Yeah.”
“I want you to write down your most extreme fantasy. It can be as wild and specific as you like. It can be stuff we’ve already done, or it can all be brand-new. It can be expensive. Whatever you want. I’ll make it happen.”
These words put butterflies in my stomach. My most extreme fantasy? “I… What? Why? What is this?”
He grins. “You’re going to be 20. Now, me being 10 years older, I’m not much good at ragers or drinking games. But making your little pussy twitch is something I am good at. So anything you want to explore with me, just name it. You’re allowed to make it as insane and over-the-top as you want.”
I chuckle nervously, even as I’m already getting excited. “I don’t know, I have some pretty crazy fantasies. Not sure you’d be able to hang with me.”
“Is that a challenge?”
“Maybe.”
His eyes flash. “So challenge me. Whatever it says on that paper when I wake up in the morning is going to become a reality.”
My mind races, the dirtiest of thoughts already taking shape. So many possibilities. I have to come up with something good.
“I’m going to go to sleep,” Alessandro tells me with a wink. “Happy almost-birthday.”
I stare at the paper long after he goes to bed. What an opportunity. The places my brain goes when I'm horny can be, shall we say, a little intense. Do I dare reveal that? Do I dareindulgethat? Even more than we already have?
This is my chance to.
I spend some time browsing on my phone, exploring different kinks. An idea starts to form. A wild idea.
When it solidifies, I can’t help but giggle madly.
He wants over-the-top? I can do that.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Alessandro
When I wake up the next morning, Ava pretends to still be asleep in bed next to me. I’m guessing she’s embarrassed to follow me out to the living room and be present when I read whatever fantasy she wrote.
That makes me excited. That means she wrote somethinggood. I make myself a bowl of cereal in the kitchen, bring it to the living room, and sit down. On the table in front of me is the paper from the night before, now covered in Ava’s neat handwriting.
Fantasy: you hunt me on a private island.
Istare at the first line, blinking, and then a laugh escapes me. Okay. Wow. She wenthilariouslyhard with the prompt I gave her. More over-the-top than I could have expected, by a factor of like 10. I keep reading, my amusement giving way to interest and then arousal as the fantasy continues:
Details: I don’t knowanyof the specifics. You just whisk me away. I wake up alone on the beach and use my wits to escape you for as long as I can. When (if!;) you catch me, I get to fight back as much as I want, and you have to physically subdue me. Then you keep me restrained while using me in whatever way you want as your little sex doll.
I let out a deep breath.Jesus.That iseasilyas dirty as anything I could have come up with. Not even to mention the logistics involved. How long did it take her to come up with this? And I haven’t even read all of what she wrote.
Allowed:
