his jeans and pants and kissed her between her legs, imbibing her inner core. This sensation had never happened before. A charge coursed around her body. Then he smiled and drew close, climbing on the bed beside her. He fiercely kissed her, and then splayed her legs apart as he entered her, slowly filling her inner being as she gasped.
He swept a lock of her hair away from her face and trailed a finger to trace the outline of her lips. She licked it and took the whole finger in her mouth as he filled her.
Every so often an electrical impulse traveled around her body, until she could stand it no more. Then she shuddered as a small wave washed over her, getting bigger and bigger until finally the waves were crashing on the rocks. It was the most delicious feeling she had ever experienced.
So this is what it feels like. This is what the poets and authors write about. And he had made that happen for her.
“Oh Dante,” she murmured.
She watched as his eyes widened, and he shuddered as his desire spent inside her. “Oh amore mio ,” he cried out. “I love you.”
Love? He loved her? She had not even considered that an option before. Wasn’t it some sort of holiday romance?
He studied her face and then rolled off and laid beside her, his breaths short and shallow, and then he turned. “What’s the matter, Joanne? Did I not please you?”
“Oh you did, definitely. But you just said you loved me. Are you serious?”
He blinked. “Of course I am. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” In all honesty, apart from her father, no man had ever said he loved her before.
“Well, Joanne, I love you and you are just going to have to get used to it.”
She turned over and smiled to herself, hugging the pillow. He drew close and cuddled her from behind. This was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. Only one thing concerned her. Wasn’t it only a few months ago he had been in love with Carla? She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
***
The following morning they were awoken by banging on the hotel bedroom door. Dante rose and put on a white toweling dressing gown that was hanging on the back of the bedroom door. He unlocked the door. A small man stood there, and he spoke to him in Italian. There appeared to be some sort of urgency to his voice. They spoke for a couple of minutes, and all the while Dante kept turning and looking back at Joanne.
“What’s the matter, Dante?” Joanne asked when the man had departed.
“It’s Ponti.” He shook his head. “He was found dead last night, Joanne. We have to get back. I need to see my sister.”
“But how? Why?”
“I’ve no idea.” He dropped his dressing gown on the floor and tugged on his discarded jeans and T-shirt. We’ll get out of here. We can have coffee and something to eat on the boat on the way back. I’m going to ring my sister to tell her I’m on my way.”
What the implications were of this, Joanne had no idea. Dante had been extremely angry with the man last night, and it was fortunate he hadn’t laid a finger on him. He’d also been in her company all night, so at least he would have an alibi.
The blood flowing through her body turned to ice. Although he had been with her, she had slept heavily last night. The wine at the restaurant, the champagne afterwards, the lovemaking, all had made her sleepy. Could she be certain he’d been with her all night long?
She pushed the thought to one side. No, that was ridiculous. He was a good man. Yet she had been shocked to see that other side of him last night.
“Please hurry, Joanne!” he shouted as she tried to make sense of her thoughts.
“Yes, okay.” She rushed off to the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water.
What had she got herself into? Was Dante the man she thought he was? Had she made love last night to a man with blood on his hands? She shivered as she hurried to dress.
It was time to
He swept a lock of her hair away from her face and trailed a finger to trace the outline of her lips. She licked it and took the whole finger in her mouth as he filled her.
Every so often an electrical impulse traveled around her body, until she could stand it no more. Then she shuddered as a small wave washed over her, getting bigger and bigger until finally the waves were crashing on the rocks. It was the most delicious feeling she had ever experienced.
So this is what it feels like. This is what the poets and authors write about. And he had made that happen for her.
“Oh Dante,” she murmured.
She watched as his eyes widened, and he shuddered as his desire spent inside her. “Oh amore mio ,” he cried out. “I love you.”
Love? He loved her? She had not even considered that an option before. Wasn’t it some sort of holiday romance?
He studied her face and then rolled off and laid beside her, his breaths short and shallow, and then he turned. “What’s the matter, Joanne? Did I not please you?”
“Oh you did, definitely. But you just said you loved me. Are you serious?”
He blinked. “Of course I am. How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know, to be honest. I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all.” In all honesty, apart from her father, no man had ever said he loved her before.
“Well, Joanne, I love you and you are just going to have to get used to it.”
She turned over and smiled to herself, hugging the pillow. He drew close and cuddled her from behind. This was a man who knew what he wanted and how to get it. Only one thing concerned her. Wasn’t it only a few months ago he had been in love with Carla? She closed her eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
***
The following morning they were awoken by banging on the hotel bedroom door. Dante rose and put on a white toweling dressing gown that was hanging on the back of the bedroom door. He unlocked the door. A small man stood there, and he spoke to him in Italian. There appeared to be some sort of urgency to his voice. They spoke for a couple of minutes, and all the while Dante kept turning and looking back at Joanne.
“What’s the matter, Dante?” Joanne asked when the man had departed.
“It’s Ponti.” He shook his head. “He was found dead last night, Joanne. We have to get back. I need to see my sister.”
“But how? Why?”
“I’ve no idea.” He dropped his dressing gown on the floor and tugged on his discarded jeans and T-shirt. We’ll get out of here. We can have coffee and something to eat on the boat on the way back. I’m going to ring my sister to tell her I’m on my way.”
What the implications were of this, Joanne had no idea. Dante had been extremely angry with the man last night, and it was fortunate he hadn’t laid a finger on him. He’d also been in her company all night, so at least he would have an alibi.
The blood flowing through her body turned to ice. Although he had been with her, she had slept heavily last night. The wine at the restaurant, the champagne afterwards, the lovemaking, all had made her sleepy. Could she be certain he’d been with her all night long?
She pushed the thought to one side. No, that was ridiculous. He was a good man. Yet she had been shocked to see that other side of him last night.
“Please hurry, Joanne!” he shouted as she tried to make sense of her thoughts.
“Yes, okay.” She rushed off to the bathroom and splashed her face with cold water.
What had she got herself into? Was Dante the man she thought he was? Had she made love last night to a man with blood on his hands? She shivered as she hurried to dress.
It was time to
Similar Books
