His military jacket has two buttons but it feels like a million struggle and I wonder if he’ll notice it before I can get to his gun.
His hands are exploring my body, slipping down my back to feel the form of my figure. His hands are in chaos to feel me. I cannot predict where it will touch next so I always let out a gasp and I hate to admit but a moan because it’s making me feel things.
Today he’s got every advantage.
I tremble to place my hands on his chest but I do it anyway. He presses me into the curve of his body. He inhales every part of me. Tilts my chin up to meet his eyes. “I’ll be so good to you, Vittoria. I promise, let’s go back to our house.”
What do you mean our house, because a house doesn’t lock you up and torture you.
And I hope he can’t see the hesitation in my e
