Alessandro |18+|

44

ARIA

I stepped out of the shower, taking a towel off the hook to dry my body before wrapping it around me. Sandro and I were in the same home—his penthouse, but fuck, I missed him. How was it possible to miss someone when they were a few metres away?

I raised a hand, wiping away the condensation that had formed on the mirror and I caught a glimpse of my flushed face in the reflection. I gripped the edge of the basin, taking a deep breath in as I squeezed my thighs together.

He wasn't even close to me, but the thought of him was strong enough to have my pussy aching for him, to have him inside me. It was torture, being horny all the fucking time. I groaned, dropping my head.

Sandro had me addicted to him—he gave me the highs and that's what I craved constantly. But he was working in his office and I didn't want to disturb him. I let out a sigh, tightening my towel as I opened the door.

I stepped out of the warm bathroom, into the much colder air and I witnessed how goose-bumps formed on my skin. My nipples hardened underneath the towel, sending a chill down my spine and I ignored how I felt, deciding that I wasn't going to interrupt him.

But when I passed by his office and heard him having a conversation in Italian, it took everything in me to not open that door.

Of course, I failed.

Maybe I'll just take a look.

I pushed the door open, holding my towel and I peeked my head through the opening. He was sitting behind his desk, a small laptop laid out in front of him and a phone pressed to his ear.

He raised his head, eyes landing on me and I heard his sentence falter just for a second before he regained his composure. Sandro cleared his throat and leaned back into his seat, patting his thigh and spreading his legs—inviting me to sit on his lap.

I want him so badly.

He continued to have the conversation as he watched me approach him, never taking his eyes off me. I sat on his thigh, pressing my back to his chest and I enjoyed his warmth. He wrapped an arm around my waist and gave me a kiss on my shoulder.

But I wanted more.

I leaned further into his touch, and I felt his hand rest on my lower stomach—the towel the only thing separating us. Shit. I was completely blinded by lust— by the need for him. It was overwhelming, and Sandro knew that.

"Non ti preoccupare," he said to the person on the phone, sliding his hand over my stomach to my bare thigh.

He stroked my skin, slow and feather light. It was a simple gesture, but my eyes fluttered close at the mere contact. He gave me a kiss underneath my ear, down the side of my neck—and I had to make sure to not let out any noise.

I could hear the faint murmuring of someone talking and Sandro was listening attentively. But I wanted all his attention.

He pulled the phone away, holding it at arms lengths before whispering, "you miss me?"

I nodded, licking my lower lip. Of course I missed him. Sandro smiled at me, returning to the conversation and I let out a sigh. I should probably get dressed.

Just as I was about to stand up, Sandro hand that had been on my leg clasped around my inner thigh, holding them open. I gave him a glance, but his eyes weren't on me.

"Yeah, I'm here. Carry on," he said, slipping his fingers underneath the towel.

He caressed my skin, higher and higher until he reached my pussy, taking in a quick breath when he felt how fucking wet I was for him. I looked down, taking in the view of his tattooed middle finger sliding through my slit. I clamped my lips together, an attempt at stopping myself from letting out a moan.