One Hundred Seven

Isabella

On the yacht, Eclisse, Dante leads me directly to the master bedroom which is dotted with scented candles and roses everywhere. This is so sweet it makes me want to cry.

"This is so beautiful, Dante. I love it," I say, choking back tears.

"I hoped you would like it," he says.

"Thank you," I murmur, sucking in a breath to calm down so that I don't end up crying.

Dante swallows audibly, then says, "Turn around."

I present him with my back, and he wastes no time before taking the two panels of the dress and pulling hard. Buttons fly to the ground as the expensive silk parts like gauze. He pushes the fabric off my shoulders, down over my hips, and lets it fall to my feet.

He hisses through his teeth. "Naked beneath your gown. Sei la mia puttanella, no?"

Even a thong left panty lines, so I'd gone commando all night. "No, I'm a good girl," I say, covering my breasts with one hand and my mound with the other.