Chapter 9
Gio
Marissa stares down at me from her perch on Michelangelo's bar. She’s in her jeans and a blouse I bought her after she complained about not having clean clothes to wear. She still has that “just-f****d” look—flushed cheeks, glassy eyes, and a beautifully dazed expression, even though it’s been a few hours. And that makes me want to f**k her all over again.
Cristo, I haven’t had this much s*x since I was in my twenties. Which I guess makes sense, since I’m with a twenty-something-year-old.
Last night I carried her to my bed and feasted on her p***y until she wept from the exhaustion of five orgasms. This morning she gave me a birthday b*****b, followed by breakfast in bed.
Then I took her to the piano store and let her pick out the baby grand for the restaurant. She picke
