Dante kissed me sweetly. It wasn’t abrupt like I imagined; it was calm and careful. His taste was sweet with a hint of mint. The way his hand ran across my face and the pressure on my waist, pulling me closer… My mind said I should stop, but my body craved more of him.
He quickly pulled away and said, "No, I can't do this." I thought our social difference was glaringly obvious at that moment, but he, seeming to sense my confusion, said, "I want to make you mine, from that first damn encounter in the elevator. Damn it, because since that day, I can't get you out of my head. But not like this; you are fragile and tired. I couldn't leave you in that state at the hotel, so I brought you here. Take a bath and rest; you have work tomorrow and you need to be well. I'll leave you at your hotel before 8 a.m., and you can get ready for work." He spoke, and I was taken aback by his care for me.
"No need to worry, I'll go home. I feel fine now, and I didn't drink that much," I said, getting up from the bed, but he held me back.
"Don't go. Arnaldo is after you," he said, and I dropped back down.
"What do you mean 'after me?' Did you talk to him?" I asked, getting nervous and feeling the walls closing in on me.
"Stay calm. Yes, I went to him to pay off the debt, but he made it very clear that he has other plans for you. But I will protect you and put an end to this." While he spoke, his hands were holding mine. He used an incredible amount of strength not to frighten me, but I realized I didn't know who he was.
I pulled my hands away and stood up. What did he mean by "other plans?" What did he want? I paced back and forth, and he told me again, "I'm here. I won't leave you, and I won't play games with you." He started to approach, but my anxiety made me run to the bathroom. I locked the door and sat on the toilet.
"What is this feeling?" I whispered, deciding to take him up on the offer of a bath. I took off my clothes and turned on the shower, losing myself for a moment just watching the water cascade down, feeling how warm it was.
I noticed the high-quality bathroom products and allowed myself the luxury of indulging in them.
I spent half an hour under the water, and when I got out, I realized I didn't have any clothes. I grabbed a towel and dried myself, wrapping myself in the bathrobe. That's when I smelled food. I would put on my clothes later, but the smell of a delicious meal made my stomach growl.
"I thought something had happened. What took you so long?" he said without looking at me as he uncovered two trays of food.
"But it was worth it, wasn't it? You look beautiful and smell wonderful," he said as soon as he saw me.
"It's not every day that you have hot water and fluffy towels," I said, not caring about revealing how poor I was.
"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Come eat, and then we can talk a little." Why did he want to talk? I was very suspicious of how concerned he was acting.
"All right, but I'm warning you now, my life is not as good as yours," I said, and he smiled.
I started eating, and he watched me closely with every bite.
"What?" I asked, uncomfortable with his insistent gaze.
"You are so beautiful," he said seriously, and I felt my skin burn with embarrassment.
"Finished? Let's talk, then. Tell me about yourself, Miss Samira," he said, and I sighed. He certainly wasn't going to leave me alone.
"What do you want to know?" I asked, defeated by exhaustion.
"Everything," he said categorically.
"I'm 18 years old, turning 19 next month. I was the best student in school; I earned money doing arithmetic and math homework for other students. My GPA in financial education was 9.95. My teacher always picked on me; that's why it wasn't a perfect 100.
My parents aren't good people. My dad is always drunk or gambling, and my mother is a narcissistic lunatic who thinks she's above everyone else. My sister is a carbon copy of her. They dance at a nightclub, and I'm sure my mother cheats on my father every day. They organize gambling at our house, and a lot of men go there. Every week was chaotic. When I decided to move here to the city, my mother called Arnaldo and told him I had stolen from him, which is why I thought that's all he wanted, you know? I thought I would change my life by coming here, but I was wrong. No offense, but with the salary I earn, I can hardly afford to rent anything other than a room in Julie's apartment and go to college. So, even though I'm very intelligent, because of few opportunities and lack of connections, I'll probably be the coffee girl for a long time and not who I dreamed of being."
Dante...
Hearing what Samira said aligned with the background check I had on her, but I wondered why they hadn't accepted her for any other position besides the kitchen one. As she spoke, curled up on the bed, she started yawning, her eyes drooping with sleep. I pulled the blanket over her and lay down next to her.
"You're not going to leave me here alone, are you?" she mumbled with her eyes closed.
"Sleep. I'll be here," I said, stroking her face, and soon she was asleep.
I grabbed my phone and texted the person in charge of hiring. I wanted them to move my current assistant to another department and put Samira in her place. I would do whatever it took to keep her close to me, at least at first.
I put my phone down, and she started moaning again.
"Damn nightmares," I whispered. But this time, the moan was different.
"Dante, I want… Oh, like that…” What the hell was this?
"Take it all. I want to give myself to you." Holy shit, she was dreaming about me, and from the sounds of it, I was doing a pretty good job.
I wondered if she would wake up or not. Her moans grew louder, and within a minute, she bolted upright, startled and sweaty.
She looked at me with wide eyes, and I think my face gave me away.
"Tell me I didn't say that in my sleep," she said, mortified.
"You did. You moaned. And look, I'd love to make that dream a reality," I said, and she covered her head shyly, lying back down.
"You don't even know who I was dreaming about," she mumbled.
"I don't know who you were dreaming about, but my name is what you called out."
I lay down beside her and pulled her close. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension, met mine. I kissed her as my hand slid down to her behind, pressing her body against mine.
"Dante, I can't… I can't handle it," she whispered.
"I won't hurt you. Do you trust me?" She touched my neck gently and accepted my kiss.
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jyoti sidhu
😂😂😂
2024-09-21
1