Francesca
A sweet Faust Ravazzani? I was used to him being a jerk, but this side was even more dangerous. Before I could comprehend this change in him, he stirred and rolled out of bed. Standing, he ran his eyes along my body, an erection bulging in his pants. Then he turned and headed for the door. "Buona sera, Francesca."
Wait, what was going on? He didn't want to have s*x with me?
—Where are you going?
—To bed. Sleep well, dolcezza.
—But...
I didn't know how to ask. Worse, I knew I shouldn't. This man was mean to me. I should be grateful he didn't want to f**k me.
But I wasn't.
I wanted to know what his c**k would feel like, what it would be like to have him sliding inside me, filling me and crushing me in the best way.
You're f****d, Francesca.
Yes, clea
