Twenty

Isabella

I have clearly lost my mind.

Dante Viscuso has undressed me and caressed me between my legs. Dropped to his knees for me. Have I complained or tried to stop him? No, because the way he bosses me around turns my insides to molten lava and my brain to mush. It was like he started talking dirty and I lost the ability to think.

So help me, I want him.

As he kisses my inner thigh, his strong hands hold

me in place. Hands that have done unspeakable violence, yet can be tender, as well. I am completely bared before him, his face close to my pussy. Do I smell all right down there? I know from watching porn that a lot of guys enjoyed it, but oral had only come up once with Sergio, when he said it wasn't his favorite thing to do. Of course, he'd liked it when I gave him head.

The tip of Dante's tongue touches my folds—and I jump.

"Relax," he breathes. "Put your hands on your tits and feel what I am doing to you, bellissima."