Nineteen

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.