Standing behind her, I keep her shirt lifted while I run the pads of my fingers across her abdomen and over to her hips.
“These are curves,” I tell her, meeting her emerald eyes in themirror. “They’re perfect for when a man wants to hit it from behind and needs something to hold on to.” I waggle my brows, and she barks out a laugh. “They also serve a great purpose when a woman is on top and the man needs to help guide her up and down.”
“You’re nuts!” Daniella laughs, her cheeks tingeing a beautiful shade of pink. “And what purpose does this serve?” She reaches up and pinches the area under her chin.
“Easy,” I say. “This.”
I spin her around and push her gently against the wall and wrap my fingers around her neck. “If you didn’t have any meat on you, I wouldn’t be able to do this.”
Her eyes go wide as her tongue slides across the seam of her lips, and it takes everything in me not to kiss her.
“Okay, Mr. Fat Expert. What about these?”
She shocks the hell out of me when she pulls down my sweats and exposes her all-black cotton panties. They cover everything important, leaving it all to my imagination.
Is she shaved? Bare? Does she have a full bush going on down there?
I’m so stuck on her material-clad pussy being uncovered that I couldn’t tell you what she’s even referring to, until she reaches down and grabs the inside of her thick thighs.
“C’mon, Matteo. What purpose do these serve other than to rub together and cause chafing?”
Her question spurs me on, and without thinking, I reach down and lift her up, the sweats falling to the floor. She squeals in shock as I press her against the wall, and she wraps her legs around my neck as her back and palms hit the wall.
“Matteo! What are you doing?” she hisses, her hands moving to my hair to hold on, so she doesn’t fall.
Not that she’d ever be at risk of that. I could bench-press her several times without breaking a sweat.
“Showing you exactly what your thick thighs’ purpose is.”
With her ankles locked around my neck, the apex of her legs isperfectly situated on either side of my face, giving me the best view of her pussy.
“Now, squeeze.”
“What?” she squeaks.
“I said, fucking squeeze.”
She does as I said, her thighs squeezing the hell out of my head and forcing my face to squish in against her pussy. I inhale a deep breath, and my cock comes to life.
And then she moans …motherfucking moans.
And it hits me—I’m standing in my condo with Little Russo against my wall and her pussy inches from my mouth while her thighs squeeze the sides of my face.
Instantly, I drop her—carefully, of course—and take a step back.
The woman hasn’t even been away from her rapist and kidnapper for eight hours, and I’m over here, practically sexually assaulting her.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I say, taking another step back. “I shouldn’t have done that. I … I don’t always think,” I tell her. “My brain just kind of runs with shit, and …fuck,you were raped and?—”
“Stop,” she says, walking over to me and placing her delicate hand on my mouth. “What he did was shitty, and it sucked. He hurt me and violated me, and his words were just as bad. But this … what you just did, it reminded me that I’m more than just a fat chick who was taken advantage of.”
Tears prick her eyes, and her lips curve into a beautiful, watery smile. “I’m still young, and maybe I’m not perfect, but one day, when the right guy comes along, he won’t be put off by my imperfections. I mean, if you, Matteo Antonov—world’s biggest bachelor and playboy, who has beautiful women hanging on his arm at every event—can find me attractive, then I think there’s hope for me yet.”
She shrugs and reaches down to grab her pants, but I extend my hand and stop her, not finished with this conversation.
“Little Russo,” I say with a smirk, “did you google me?”
Her eyes go as wide as saucers,and I have my answer.
