My Best Friend’s Father Wants me novel Chapter 16

Enora:

I looked at him in shock. My hands began to shake and my lips began to tremble. What was going on?

“You…You…”

“You heard me right, Enora. I want to hear your Italian. What is ‘sexy’ in Italian?”

I gulped and fiddled with my fingers under the table.

“It is still, ‘sexy’, Sir. There… there is no change. Maybe a little accent though.”

“I see.”

He picked up his fork and stabbed his kebab. I watched his mouth wrap around it in the most seductive way and I felt my thighs clench. I gasped and turned the deepest shade of pink. Fuck! Why was he eating like that?

I looked down at my food. I had lost my appetite. I tried to take a little amount to distract myself, but my hands shook, and I feared I would spill the food all over the floor.

I watched him chew. His beautiful lips had never looked as sexy as they looked in this moment. I felt my thighs clench tighter and my mouth go dry. I wanted to kiss him, to taste the spiciness off his lips.

He swallowed and reached for the wine and took a sip. I took a deep breath. Was the interview over?

“I believe we shall continue, Enora. Next question. How you say, ‘I want you to fuck me on this table’ in Italian?”

My eyes widened. My face grew hotter and I could see my reflection on the side of the polished bowl. I was a bright red up to my ears. I could feel my breathing getting quicker. What was this man doing?

“I am waiting, Enora. We haven’t got all night.”

I gulped.

“Vo…Voglio che tu…faccia sesso con me su questo tavolo.”

I watched him lick his lips and take another bit of his kebab and wash it down with another sip of wine. I was frozen in a spot. I lowered my head and waited for his answer. I was struggling to keep my breathing under control. My shorts started to feel wet. I had no underwear on.

“Your Italian is beautiful, Enora.”

He got off from his chair and casually strode to me. My heart was racing, my skin was alive with electricity. What was going on?

He stood right in front of me, and I lowered my head, but he stopped me with his finger under my chin.

“We aren’t done, Enora.”

I gulped and stared into his brown eyes.

“Yes, Sir.”

He ran his fingers across my lips. His eyes, dark with desire; his bare chest was so close to me. I tried hard to not look at his bulge. God! This was too much.

“How would you say, ‘I want you to scream your name as you fuck me’ in Italian?”

I took a deep breath. I could feel myself slowly unraveling in this man’s hands.

“Voglio…urlare il tuo nome…mentre fai…sesso con me.”

My voice was breathy and quiet. His face lacked any expression except the fiery desire in his eyes.

“Tell me, Enora. Are you translating ‘fuck’ as ‘sex’?”

I nodded slowly.

“Why?”

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