“It looks amazing.” She looks at me with those big brown eyes, and I can’t help but hold her gaze.
“It’s a chicken casserole.”
“I can’t wait to eat it.”
I can’t wait to eatheragain.
I want to tell her that, but she’s nervous enough as it is.
I pull out the chair next to me for her to sit. It seems like I’m stealing the show, but there’s going to be a reason for that, which will be revealed after dinner.
She’s dessert, except instead of eating her, I’m choosing to watch her in ecstasy when Henry fucks her on the table.
She sits and smiles at me. “Thank you.”
“Nice dress.”
“Oh, thanks. I made it myself.”
“Wow,” Henry remarks, looking her over.
“That’s what I do. I want to go to Fashion school and start my own line one day.”
Henry and I exchange glances.
I know what he’s thinking. That must be why she needs the money.
It makes sense. In that kind of auction, a woman could get enough money to set her up for life. I hope the money will be enough for what she needs.
She’s sweet and vibrant with that thirst for life most of us have lost somewhere along the line and fell into the mundane clutches of reality.
“I think you’d be amazing,” I tell her.
“Thank you.” She blushes again and looks away.
I know that’s because we just had sex.
I catch her face and guide her back to me.
“Feel different, Duchess?”
“Yes.”
“How do you feel?”
“Like something changed forever.” Her eyes take me in with that emotion again, and I know this is one of those instances where I need to watch myself.
It would be easy to feel for this girl.
“Because it has. Is that good or bad, Bellezza?” Bellezza means beautiful in Italian. I call her that because she’s is, and it’s personal to me.
“It’s good.”
“Come here.” I kiss her and enjoy the sweet taste of that innocence still lurking on her lips.
When we pull apart, she gives me a little smile and glances at Henry, who’s watching us.
I can tell he’s still fascinated with how I took her. He’s as much a voyeur as I am, maybe worse.