Her New Side He Craved

CATALINA’S PERSPECTIVE

The moment Dante stepped into the bathroom, I picked up his phone from the dresser, cool and casual. My own device was hidden under a folded scarf in the drawer, locked, untraceable.

I typed only three words.

Clean it up.

No names. No location. They’d know. My men were always watching.

The message delivered, I slid the phone back in place and waited.

Barefoot, I stood still. Silent. Listening.

Then, barely a few minutes later, I heard it. The rustle. A faint thud. A low murmur muffled by glass and stone. Quick hands. No panic. They were professionals. Mine.

It was done.

I moved toward the bathroom.

Steam clouded the mirrors. The sound of water slamming against tile filled the air.

Dante stood under the spray, back to me. Soaked. Staring straight ahead.

Frozen.

Still trying to figure out what the hell just happened.

I stepped in without a word. Naked. Quiet. Composed.

He didn’t turn. Not yet.

So I moved closer.

Let my body press against his back, my arms wrapping around his waist. My lips found his shoulder. Warm. Open.

And when I dropped to my knees, he let me.

~~~~

DANTE’S PERSPECTIVE

The second the water hit my face, I thought it would clear my head.

It didn’t.

I was still stuck on what the fuck just happened.

She kissed me. Full mouth. No hesitation. Like she meant it.

And right after that,

A sound. Something hit the ground. Loud. Sharp.

I should’ve looked.

But she held me.

Pressed her body against mine and kissed me like she owed me everything and nothing all at once.

Then she dropped.

And I fucking forgot everything else.

I felt her hands first. Soft. Controlled. Then her mouth.

God.

Warm. Tight. Slippery. Focused.

She moved slow at first, like she was learning me, mapping the weight and shape of my cock with her tongue.

It was the first time she’d done this.

I was sure of it.

And still, she took her time. Struggled around the tip, gagged slightly, then pushed further, deeper.

My hand shot to the wall. Breath hitched.

“Fuck…”

I should’ve stopped her. Should’ve asked what the hell was going on with her tonight.

But all I could do was tilt my head back and feel.

Her mouth worked in rhythm. Every stroke like it had a purpose.

I looked down. Wet hair slicked to her face. Eyes half-lidded. No shame.

She wanted to do this.

She was owning this.

Every goddamn inch.

And fuck me, I let her.

My hips moved on their own. Small thrusts. Gentle at first. Then deeper.

She moaned when I did it. That vibration?

It wrecked me.

I cummed. Hard.

But she didn’t stop.

She swallowed every drop like it meant something to her.

And when I thought that was it, she started again.

Her tongue ran the length of my shaft. Slow. Deliberate. Almost tender.

I was still hard.

Still ready.

And she knew it.

My back arched when she sucked me back into her mouth.

Then she started bobbing her head.

Harder this time. Sloppier. Wetter.

I grabbed the edge of the glass divider for balance, muscles locking, jaw clenching.

Another release.

Second fucking time in ten minutes.

I was losing my mind.

Still, she didn’t stop.

Didn’t let me breathe.

By the time her mouth worked me to a third orgasm, I was shaking. Breathing like I’d run ten miles in a gunfight.

My hips were moving on their own, I pressed her head closer, making her gagged, choked and breathless.

it didn't stopped me.

I used her mouth, chasing that third orgasm.

And when I did?

I cummed inside her mouth, down to her throat.

She swallowed everything, even licking her lips like it was making her full.

I’d never… not once… cummed that hard from just a mouth.

But here she was, on her knees, soaked from steam and water, licking me clean like she’d done it a thousand times.

And me?

I let her.

Because whatever the hell this new version of Catalina was… I was starting to crave it.

Even if it scared the shit out of me.

I looked down at her again, knees on wet tile, lips swollen, her breath warm against my skin as she leaned back slightly, face still tilted up like she was waiting for more.

And fuck… maybe I had more.

Maybe I’d give her everything if it meant keeping her like this.

Willing.

Eager.

Mine.

I let out a breath. Shaky. Spent. But satisfied in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

And the thought hit me,

If I’d known she was this grateful for a fucking bookstore…

I should’ve built her ten.

I should’ve handed her the deed to every corner store in Florence just to see her like this again.

And if this is how she says thank you?

Hell.

I’ve been starving for years.

I should’ve spoiled her from the start.