“Now, a bite.” He nips my neck before picking up his spoon with his free hand. He lifts a morsel of coq au vin to my lips.
I accept the bite, chew, and swallow.
“Tell me how it tastes, bella.”
“It’s good.”
“No, the flavors. Tell me what you tasted.”
It’s impossible to concentrate with his finger lodged in my pussy. It’s a game to him, I realize. He wants to drive me to distraction—it’s working.
I scramble to recall the flavors. “The chicken is tender. Um. Savory, too. The flavor is still on my tongue.”
“Good.” He slides his finger out, then back in again. “A sip of wine?”
“Yes, Sir. Please.”
“Beautiful manners.” He brings his wine glass to my mouth and offers me a sip.
The wine is smooth as it slides over my tongue. It tastes expensive. After I swallow, I say, “It’s very good. Smooth, something nutty. Almond, maybe?”
“I got that, too.” He offers me another bite of his dinner.
The server doesn’t return for the rest of the meal. I remain in Damiano’s lap, and he keeps his finger in me, just as he promised. Every now and then, he moves it slightly in or out, or he brushes my clit with his thumb. But it’s not enough to get me off.
By the time I eat the last bite on his plate, I’m ready to turn around, straddle him, and insist he give me completion.
“Up you go.” He removes his finger, gives my pussy a light stroke, and pulls his hand out of my dress. “Back to your seat, bella. The server is returning.”
It takes my mind a second to catch up. He wants me to get out of his lap, just like that? I need more from him?—
“Madison,” he says. “You are welcome to stay right here, but you seemed concerned about the staff.”
“Right.” I get up and totter over to my seat.
As the server walks into the room, Damiano grabs my thong from the table and stuffs it into his pocket.
I open my mouth to say something before realizing that I can’t say what I want to say—how dare you, those are my panties—because then the server would know.
Damiano gives me a bright, innocent smile as he asks for the check.
DAMIANO
If Madison is disappointed I’m not asking her to come home with me, she doesn’t show it. I walk her down the street, holding her hand.
“I want to take you out again soon, bella.” I kiss her fingers, one by one.
“I’d like that, Sir. I mean, Damiano.” She laughs. “I don’t know what to call you.”
“Sir in a scene. Damiano, otherwise. But I wouldn’t say no to a more formal arrangement where you’re my submissive all day, every day.”
She gives me a look, her green eyes sharp. “That’s probably not a good idea.”
“Maybe not.” I shrug. “Or maybe you’d find that obedience very much suits you. I think it does.”
She blushes. “Are you going to give my underwear back?”
“I would like to keep them, if you don’t mind.”
