The Italian - Page 109

“Well, is it?”

“More than you know.”

Her eyes hold mine, and she waits for me to go on.

“The pressure of expectation is suffocating. Some days are better than others. It is what it is.”

“We could always run away,” she offers with a goofy smile.

I laugh out loud. “Don’t tempt me. The prospect of running away with you and being normal would be a dream come true.”

Her face falls. “Do you feel trapped in your life?”

“Yes,” I answer without hesitation.

“Oh.” She thinks about it for a moment. “You don’t have to do this you know?”

“Yes. I do. My life is already mapped out for me.”

She looks around the restaurant and frowns. “I thought you said this was the best restaurant in Milan.”

“It is.”

“Why are we the only ones here?”

I smile as I rest my face in my hand. I booked the whole restaurant so I could have her to myself. “Just lucky, I guess.”

* * *

I stand in the corridor as I fumble with the key to Olivia’s room. It’s late now, and we’ve had too many drinks. I had to leave my car at the restaurant. We caught a cab home. She’s standing behind me running her hands up and down my body. She’s hot for it. She’s always hot for it.

She unzips my pants from behind, and I bump her with my ass.

“Let me open the door, woman.”

She laughs and begins to pull my pants down.

“Stop it,” I whisper as I struggle with the lock.

She slides her hand down my briefs and grabs my hard cock. I struggle with the key some more. “Open, fucker.” I give it a swift kick.

She laughs and strokes me hard, and the door clicks open. I stumble in and before I can even close the door behind us, she’s on her knees in front of me.

“Time for dessert,” she whispers darkly as she licks her lips.

She takes my cock into her mouth and my breath catches at the sight of her.

She slides my pants and briefs right down, and I kick them to the side along with my shoes. I take my shirt off over my head while she takes me deep down her throat.

My legs nearly give way beneath me. I gently sweep the blonde hair back from her forehead. Her eyes are closed, and she hums at the taste of me.

Fuck, she’s hot.

Some women give head to please men. Olivia gives head to please herself. She loves it.

I love it more.

Tags: T.L. Swan Romance
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