𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏

𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

I'm travelling to Italy today, to foresee the opening of my new club in Rome. I'm staying there for the next two weeks because its grand opening is this weekend, and I'm giving myself some days to relax and tour around Italy before coming back.

Alessandro, who's laying next to me stirs lightly and I look at him as he moves a little then falls back asleep, placing his head on my lap.

Stroking his hair, I open the email sent to me by the manager I just hired for my Italian club: Alessio Visani.

Attached are images of the interior and exterior designs of the club. Differently from Strip, this is an ordinary club, so there's a massive stage for DJs and performers and there's a dance floor right in front of it. There are three floors, the third one being the VIP section, and each floor has its own bar.

I'm so excited about the opening of Venus and watching all these pictures of the finished building makes me feel like a kid.

I type a quick reply before pulling myself away from Alessandro, who looks heavenly and peaceful, sleeping under the black satin covers.

I walk into the toilet to start the day, ignoring the slight soreness between my legs. When my face is washed and my teeth are brushed, I make my way to the kitchen to make myself a small breakfast.

The lemon tea I'm sipping slightly burns my throat, but I ignore it, continuing to sip and eating my toast.

Arms wrap around my waist and immediately I get comfortable in their embrace, "Morning, Mr DeLuca." I say, eyes still focused on the TV. His head is snuggled into my neck, so his reply is muffled.

After he moves away, he places a kiss on my neck, followed by one on my temple, before moving into the part of the kitchen where the stove is.

"You're out of eggs," he says when he opens the fridge. "Yeah, I know, I told you to get more yesterday, before you left, because you used them all, and I knew that I'd forget to get them because I don't use them."

"Shit, yes. I forgot. I'll do that today." He's been here a lot in the past month and he has developed the habit to eat my food and forgetting to replace it. I don't mind to be honest, because he doesn't eat the food I eat regularly. Just what I don't.

"That's not going to work," I say putting my plate and mug into the sink, "I'm leaving tonight."

"That's today?" I nod, but I'm not sure if he saw me.

He grabs a mug from the cabinet above me, towering over me, his body slightly pressed to mine. I still my movements when I feel his dick brush over my ass for a second. I finish washing up my plate and mug and lean against the sink, watching as he makes coffee and takes out the protein bars I have in the fridge.

When he's done, he sits down around the island and nods at me, telling me to sit next to him. I do, but he grabs the chair and pulls me closer to him. We spend time talking and joking, as he tries to get me to take a bite of the protein bar he's eating.

"I've tried them before and they're nasty. Only thing they do is leave my mouth hella dry." He finally gives up and finishes it. "Then why do you keep buying them, if you don't like them?"

"I don't," I reply looking back to the TV. "There's been protein bars in your fridge for a month. I keep eating them and they're still there." He says with a raised brow.

"I bulk bought them, and I have like a hundred in my storage. That's it."

He lets it go and after he washes what he used, he picks me up and moves us to the sofa in the living room. His hand sits on my bare stomach, caressing it in an upward-downward motion. We watch the show playing in comfortable silence. As he gets up to go to the bathroom, my eyes land on the unlocked phone when multiple texts come in.

More than twenty consecutive texts are sent, in less than forty seconds, which makes me curious, and when I look at the phone I wish I had just minded my business.

Someone's nudes appear on the screen, as the texts continue to flood in. Then a video is sent, and even without playing, I can tell it's the same brunette giving head.

What takes me aback is the text that follows:

I want us to be like this again. You whispering that I'm the best you've ever had and me doing everything to please you and prove you right.

The bathroom door opens and I quickly put the phone back.

He sits by me but doesn't hold me. Instead, he starts typing on his phone. I try not to pay attention to him and try to pay attention to the TV.

Tired of him not paying attention to me, I turn to look at him and sit on his lap, straddling him.

A smile quickly adorns his face, and his hands move to my waist, holding me in place. His phone goes off, "Give me a second. I just need to reply to this."

I give him his time to reply, which fuels my need to make him experience shit he's never felt before, not with whoever Sophia is or anyone else.

Finally, he puts his phone down and looks at me. He moves a strand of my natural hair behind my ear and gently caresses my face.

I quickly move my lips to his neck, pulling him closer to me; I hear him release a moan as his grip on my waist tightens. "What are you doing to me?" If my attention wasn't solely on him, I would've missed his question - given how quietly he whispered it.

= =

As Alessandro cums in me, I reach my eighth climax and my body falls onto his. He holds me, his hand moving on my lower back, as he finally pulls out.

"Fuck, Hela, whatever that was, I love it." His voice is low and breathy.

"I'm leaving for almost three weeks, I need to make up for my absence." He kisses my forehead and holds me tighter. "Need to make sure you know that no one you're going to fuck until I'm back even compares to me."

I feel his breath hitch for a fraction of a second before he starts to stroke my hair.

At the airport, Hanna helps me take my carry-on bag. Just before security, we stop, so she can give me my stuff. "Be safe, girl. I'll see you Thursday when I come see the opening of your club," she says. "Text me as soon as you take off and when you land. Okay?"

I reply with a yes, and hug her tightly. I notice she's shaking, so I hug her tighter. "I'll be fine. Trust me. Trust God. I'll text you." Hanna lost her brother in a plane crash ten years ago and hasn't been comfortable with planes ever since.

As we take off, I watch out the window as we lift off the ground and get lost in the dark night sky.