Page 63 of Valentino

Instinctively I pick it up and hold it in my hands. It’s large…heavy.

Throb….

Throb….

Arousal screams through me.

I imagine her legs spread wide and I can almost feel her heartbeat racing as she gets closer to the edge.

I lift it and inhale, hoping for a trace of her scent.

Barely there….

My tongue darts out, and there it is, the faintest trace. Like a man possessed I can’t stop myself and I lose control, I lick it, oh….

My cock is hard, just about splitting through my pants. Oh hell….

The need to come…. Hard.

The shower turns off.

Fuck.

Panicked, I lay it back down where it was.

What the hell am I doing?

Disgusted, I stand and leave in a rush, I stumble down the hall and into the kitchen, with my heart racing fast and hard, and I stand at the sink with my hands wide on the kitchen counter, staring out the window.

Calm down.

I close my eyes and breathe deeply, desperately trying to block out her flavor that’s dancing through my tastebuds.

Keep it together.

My tongue darts out and runs over my lips, my body is craving her DNA. A trace of her very essence. My cock so deep inside her body…. I clench.

I grip the counter harder, perspiration dusts my skin, and never in my life have I felt arousal like this.

That woman.

The primal need to have her beneath me…to ride her until she’s raw. To make her fucking pay for making me want her so badly.

I can feel myself losing control, my body is overtaking my brain and I have no idea what to do or how to stop it, only that I have to.

ANNA

I take my time in the shower this morning, hoping that thing with Valentino will wash away. He was out all night doing God knows what with God knows who…while I stayed here and dreamed of fucking him.

What the hell is wrong with me?

Eventually I get out and dress and make my way out to the kitchen. He’s standing at the kitchen counter with his back to me and looking out the window. Dressed for work, with his hair all done and the aftershave wafting, while wearing another troublemaking suit.

Dressing like this should be illegal.

“Do you want some breakfast?” I ask. “Are you hungry?”

He turns toward me, hands clenched at his sides. His suit pants in a tent over an angry erection and my eyes widen.