Dante
***
When we drive back home, Isabella's mood has changed. She doesn't talk throughout the drive. She looks engraved in her thoughts. I don't bother her though.
I go directly to my office to check on some important things I had promised myself to check on before the day ends.
I hardly manage to concentrate though. I am so destructed by the lovely lady I had dinner with tonight.
Now that I was alone, anticipation flooded my veins like the rush of a drug. As much as I wanted to wait, I couldn't.
I need to see her. Now.
Closing my Mac, I thereafter leave my office. The house is quiet as I make my way into the wing opposite my own. What will I find when I enter Isabella's room? Is she showering? Relaxing in the bath? My cock twitches at the fantasy of seeing her wet and soapy golden skin, touching those soft and supple curves.