Page 62 of The Proposal

I roll my eyes. “No.”

“Hmm,” he hums, so I playfully pinch his side. “Ouch, what was that for?”

“For beingpresuntuoso(Conceited).”

“I’m just calling it how I see it.”

He rolls us back over, so I’m now the one on top. “It’s time to play, lick thesalsiccia grande(Large sausage), Mrs Mancini.”

“How exciting,” I mock, my voice dripping with sarcasm, though I can’t deny the thrill that comes with one of his lessons. I get just as much—if not more—pleasure from these encounters.

His hands slide under my arms, effortlessly gliding me down his body until I reach his waist.

Dante parts his legs, and I drop in between them. “Get on your knees, Arabella?” he orders.

I place my hands on his quadriceps and push myself up until I’m sitting back on my hunches.

Dante raises his pelvis off the mattress and tugs down his boxers until his erect penis springs free.

“How are you hard already?” I ask.

“The thought of my dick disappearing between those pretty fucking lips of yours,Bellezza, makes me insane with need.”

His dirty words have moisture flooding my underwear.

I reach out and wrap my fingers around the base. I’ve already completed my tutorial on how to jerk him off, so I start there, slowly moving my hand up and down.

When his eyes roll back in his head, and he groans, I lean forward, taking advice from Lucia’s book. I flatten my tongue against the crown and lick the salty pre-cum beading at his slit.

“Arabella,” he breathes, sliding his hands into my hair and tugging slightly.

It’s enough to spur me on further. I begin to lick his length from the base to the tip. I do this over and over until Dante eventually grasps my head between his hands, halting me.

“It’s not a fucking lollypop. You need to put it in your mouth.”

One of his hands moves to cover mine as he shifts his penis into an upright position. “Open up those plump lips of yours,” he commands. “Be careful with your teeth,” he warns as he guides it into my mouth.

My eyes move up to lock with his as my lips slide down his length, with a little too much gusto because when the tip slams into the back of my throat, I gag. It has me quickly withdrawing.

“I think I just bruised my tonsils,” I say, swiping the back of my hand across my mouth to wipe away the saliva. When his shoulders bob with laughter, my eyes narrow. “It’s not funny.”

Once he stifles his amusement, he says, “That’s what happens when you get ahead of yourself. I told you to put it in your mouth, not deepthroat me. You’re a beginner, not a porn star, Arabella. Know your place.”

I gasp.

Know my place!

How dare he?

I’ve become so used to his praise that those harsh words cut through me like a knife.

Tears burn the back of my eyes as I go to retreat off the bed, but he quickly sits up and snags my arm. “Where are you going?”

“Anywhere but here.”

“Arabella,” he says, tugging me forward and capturing me around the waist.

“I know my place,” I reply, my voice cracking. “I’m a European woman who grew up with a cruel, misogynistic father. I was reminded every day of my lack of worth.”

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