“Say please,” I order.
She lifts her head to scowl at me, then finally sighs. “Please, Massimo, can you bring me the risotto? Pretty please with your cock on top?”
She’s using the same sensual voice as when she begged me to let her cum, and my cock throbs with need. The flash of desire in her eyes isn’t helping.
I enter the steamy bathroom. Man it’s hard to look away from those bare shoulders of hers, and those well-defined clavicles, just waiting for me to claim them. Thankfully thick bubbles cover the water’s surface so I can’t see the rest of her body, otherwise I’d probably lose control right then and there. As it is, I feel like I’m balanced on a pinhead, and ready to tip over at any moment.
Thankfully she doesn’t say anything else sexual.
“Nothing like a good soak after a long workout,” she tells me.
Hm, maybe that was sexual after all. In my current state, I’m liable to thinkanythingis sexual.
“How long have you been soaking?” I manage.
She shrugs, rolling those perfect shoulders. “I don’t know. Without a watch, it’s kind of hard to track the time. Doubly so, when you don’t have anything to do.”
Her curt, almost snide tone bothers me, and I decide I’m going to have to punish her. After she eats.
I place the bowl onto the wooden stool next to the tub and insert the fork into the risotto.
She sits forward and reaches for the bowl. As she does so, her breasts momentarily emerge from the water, but they’re covered in bubbles unfortunately. My cock doesn’t care—it stretches painfully against the confines of my pants in anticipation.
“Thanks for this, by the way,” she says, grabbing the bowl and reclining in the tub once more.
“For what?” I ask. “The meal?” I force myself to sit on the stool beside her. I want to be in that tub right now, pleasuring her, and myself. But I also want her to eat. So I’ll wait, bide my time, and then strike. Like the predator I am.
“The meal, too, but I meant this.” She gestures at the foamy water. “You included bubble bath with the toiletries. You remembered how much I like these kinds of baths. I’m a little surprised, given the last time we talked about that was eight years ago on one of our random dates.”
“Is that what they were?” I ask. “I thought we were just hanging out. At least until our first kiss.”
“I always thought of them as dates,” she replies. “Anyway, you remembered. Either that, or you lucked out when you picked up bubble bath.”
“Probably the latter,” I admit.
She shakes her head, smiling. Then she eats the risotto shyly while I watch.
“Am I the first person you ever kissed?” she asks between bites.
I nod. “What about me?”
She laughs bitterly. “What do you think? The first, and last.”
I study her uncertainly. “You wished you kissed other boys? But couldn’t, because of your strict father?”
“No, not really,” she tells me. “I never really wanted anyone else. You spoiled me that day, Massimo.”
I close my eyes and bow my head. It makes me hate her father all the more in that moment for separating us. For doing what he did to me.
“But mostly, I’m bitter because I gave my first kiss to my future kidnapper,” she finishes.
“You also gave him your virginity,” I remind her.
“So I did.” She swallows a mouthful of risotto. “Have you made up your mind about what you’re going to do with me?”
“Sort of,” I tell her. “Or I’m working on it, anyway.”
She frowns. “I’m not sure if that’s good or bad for me.”
