Page 75 of Wicked

I moan like an animal, and I buck into his perfect face. “Oh Dante! Oh Dante…” I come hard and fast, and for some reason, I don’t stop.

Finally, I lay panting in a pile with my Cartier diamonds, my high heels still on his shoulders. As my body quakes again and again, I move my butt and hips around.

I feel wicked. So fucking wicked.

My eyes double blink as I open them. As I look up, I see Dante licking his lips and removing his suit. He looks down, and his cock is enormous. For whatever reason, he also looks serious, his voice husky. “Get on your knees.”

Dripping, I roll over, and I glance behind me. Dante rolls a condom on, and he and his huge cock are right behind me. His crown rubs against my butt, and I feel bad. Bad enough to do anything!

I bite my lip as the heavy Cartier necklace pulls me down. I drop my head low, and I lift my butt. I am his. His to dowhatever he wants.

31

DANTE

The drive back gives me time to think. The young Italian fashion designer and I connected, and she has a great attitude. After some dancing around in the sit down, she agreed to sign with my fashion company.

The secretive and short meeting after with the three Italian private bankers did not bear fruit. It even got frustrating. I bounced ideas off them on how to keep the castle. Their ideas on how to monetize the building and estate were old-fashioned and far from dynamic.

As we drive back to Tuscany, I sigh. The clock is ticking, and I need a solution and fast.

I look over at Raven, and her sexy legs are up, but respectful. Her delicate feet rest on the old Ferrari console, and I have a hand on her leg.

After a full minute, she puts her hand on mine, and I let her keep it there. For whatever reason, it feels good, maybe too good.

After the next town, as the road gets quieter, she slides my hand down and into her cut-off jeans.

She opens her legs some, and I feel her, wet, waxed, and slick. As I start to get hard, I think ahead, and I plan her next lesson.

I cannot change gears with my hand down her pants, but as we come to the next corner, she reaches over. I put a foot on the clutch, and she shifts the Ferrari down a gear. As we blast out of the corner, we do the same again, and we pick up speed.

Our eyes meet, and nothing is said. For whatever reason, we seem to be connecting naturally.

Raven also seems to know when I need time to think and time for myself.

After too many dates, and in all corners of the world, I’ve come to dislike overly talkative women. Especially gold diggers chirping about nonsense. Even gossip.

For whatever reason, Raven is like me. We only talk when it’s needed, and it is never boring. She has never engaged in idle gossip, and because of that, my subconscious ticks another box.

I slide my hand further into her pants. I need more wetness. “Open a button.”

My student does as she is told, and she even slides them down. She’s not wearing panties, and she is following my sex school rule. As she holds my hand against herself, she shows me how she likes it. As I circle her clit, she eye fucks me.

“You’re a bad student,” I say, watching the vineyards unfold ahead.

“How bad?” my student asks, sounding husky.

“You’re ‘stay late’ bad,” I say, hard, frustrated and contemplating pulling over. I need to take her on the Ferrari hood in the sun.

After sexon the secluded Tuscan beach under the olive trees, we pull up to the castle. We climb out, stretch, and it’s still sunny. I lick my fingers as we find each other. Our eyes arewanting again, but we say nothing and hug. Her body feels good around me, and her tangy taste starts to make me hard again.

Before I can move, Raven looks back towards the village and a tree. A black dog is staring at us, and he is sitting in the shade as if waiting.

“Tito! What are you doing here?” Raven asks, crouching.

I watch the dog move forward hesitantly, and I think I’ve seen it before. Even a couple of times in the day, in the village and maybe even way back with Nonno.

“He has a collar and name, but no owner’s contact,” Raven says. “Maria said, he has no home.”

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