“Che coraggio,” he murmured for the second time that night as he stepped back to study me. What courage. Warmed through with his praise, already wet and pulsating, I demanded, “Touch me.” “Like this?” he teased, stepping forward to run his hand down the middle of my chest, following the plunging neckline of the designer dress. “Di più,” I ordered, glaring at him. Harder. He gently tweaked my nipples through the fabric. “Va bene cosi?” Like this? “No,” I ground out, arching my back to get closer. “More, Dante.” “You want me to fuck you hard, my Lena?” he asked darkly, twisting my nipples tight
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