Don't Let Go

Chapter 2 - Fucking italians

Heyyy. 

So funny story: the third chapter was supposed to be private because Wattpad had made it that way a while ago but aparently it's not private anymore, according to my account. If it's a problem with my account and the third chapter is in fact private, and if you don't know the drill yet, all you have to do is remove this story from your library and then follow me. That should allow you to see the third chapter. If not, let me know and we'll sort something out.

But if the chapter is not private and if you can see it perfectly, great then. 

Have an amazing reading and don't forget to vote and comment with opinions and ideas.

Thank you so much!!

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In the morning, things were a little different and not so innocent. They were spooning; her ass was pressed to his hard cock, only being separated by their underwear, though she was wearing a thong so it didn't count as much. His arm was on top of her body but his hand was beneath her top and it was squeezing her boob shamelessly.

Hannah stirred in her sleep but Christian was the one who woke up. He smiled when he noticed the position they were in, although, he made no effort to change it. On the contraire, he held her closer and buried his face in her blonde hair, smelling her shampoo.

He remembered the first time she tried the honey shampoo and how she kept flicking her hair so the smell would stay in the air. She was sixteen at the time.

Hannah slowly opened her eyes and noticed a pressure on both her ass and left boob. Also, her hair on the back of her head felt weird but in a good way. There was also a familiar cologne buried in her, the sheets and in the hard chest pressed to her back.

(Hannah) "De Luca." – she said quietly.

(Christian) "Buongiorno, amore mio." (Good morning, my love) – he kissed the back of her neck.

(Hannah) "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

(Christian) "Right now, I'm trying really hard not to shove my cock deep in your sweet pussy." – he said in her ear.

Saying that Hannah's inner walls didn't clench in arousal, would be a complete lie.

(Hannah) "What I meant was: what're you doing in my bed and why is your hand on my boob?"

He pinched her nipple with his index finger and thumb. Her toes curled and she bit her lip so he wouldn't hear her moan.

(Hannah) "Cristiano." – she warned him, using his real name, the Italian version.

He hummed in response, pinching harder. But then, her phone rang, interrupting them. She picked it up and answered the call.

(Hannah) "Hello?" – she breathed out.

Christian still wouldn't stop his assault on her breast.

(Martha) "Hi. Mrs. Cyrus is here and she says she needs to speak to you. She says it's urgent."

(Hannah) "Tell her I'll be there in twenty minutes."

Hannah didn't even let Martha reply; she just hung up the call and got up from the bed.

(Christian) "Where're you going?" – he groaned from the loss of contact.

(Hannah) "To work." – she said in a duh-voice.

(Christian) "Can't you call in sick?" – he sat against the headboard.

Hannah, who was grabbing both her towels, stopped and looked at Christian to snap a sassy answer at him but it died in her throat when her eyes locked once more to his naked chest, but now it was combined with his tousled hair.