The Proposition

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Chapter Eleven


Alejandra’s POV.

I’ve barely woken up and now, I’m sprawled across this man’s chest. He lays on his back, smirking at me, horny and playful. I sit up and straddle him, not wanting my morning breath directly in his face. I can feel how hard he is underneath me and I subtly press my naked pussy over his boxers. Dom’s hands grip my waist, and he encourages me to grind on him. He thrusts his hips upwards, creating a delicious friction against my clit.

“This is my kind of morning,” he comments huskily, staring deep into my eyes. “I could get used to waking up with you in my bed, gattina.”

I blush and remain quiet, unsure what to say to that. Dom grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in for a kiss. His tongue nudges at my bottom lip, but I refuse to open up to him before I’ve brushed my teeth.

Dom lets out a grunt of frustration and lets me slide off him. I grab the sheet and finally cover myself. Dom smirks and flicks my nipple over the fabric, making it hard.

“I want to take you out today, show you my beautiful country,” he declares.

“I’d like that.”

I’ve only been to Italy once before when I was young. I went to Rome with my school, so I’ve only seen a very small part of the wonderful country. Dom stands up, goes over to a chest of drawers and pulls out a t-shirt. He hands it to me, and I thank him. I pull it over my head and try not to swoon at how good it smells. Now that I’m covered and more decent, I slide off the bed and get up.

“I’m going to get dressed,” I tell Dom.

“Okay, I’ll meet you downstairs for breakfast. Do you know how to get to the kitchen?” He asks, only half-joking.

“I’ll find it, don’t worry,” I call over my shoulder and leave his room.

When I get to my bedroom, the door is ajar. I step inside and find a beautiful Italian woman cleaning my room. She’s opened the balcony windows to let in fresh air and has hung up all of my clothes that I left thrown over the back of the vanity chair.

“Hi,” I greet her shyly, totally embarrassed to be half-naked in a man’s t-shirt.

She spins around and smiles at me. “Good morning!” She replies with a thick accent. “I am Noemi, your maid. Let me know if you need me to do anything, I am finishing in here now.′

“I’m Alejandra, nice to meet you,” I reply as I grab the bathrobe from the back of the door and pull it on to cover myself. “Thank you.”

Noemi grabs a wicker basket from the floor, it’s filled with cleaning products. She’s wearing a white dress and looks to be my age, perhaps a little older.

“I didn’t change your bedsheets, Signorina, but I will when you have slept in them, sì?”

“Um, yes, sì, thank you, grazie,” I stumble over my words.

I’m embarrassed that Noemi knows that I stayed in her boss’s bed. Perhaps, she’s used to it. I don’t know Domenico; this could be a regular occurrence for him.

I take a quick shower and plait my hair down my back. I change into a pair of shorts and a vest. If we’re going to be sight-seeing today, I imagine we’ll be walking around, and I want to be comfortable.

Dom has made eggs Florentine when I come downstairs. We eat outside. The patio furniture is cold under my bare legs, but the Sun is already shining across the villa, warming me up.

After we have eaten, I brush my teeth and apply some sun cream. With my Columbian background, I don’t often burn, but you know, skin cancer and all. When I come downstairs, I expect us to get into another bulky SUV. Dom makes me laugh when he comes over with a pimped Vespa.

“You’re joking,” I tell him when he hands me a helmet. “Could you be any more stereotypical?”

He grins at me. “Stereotypes usually stem from truth, gattina. Many of Italians use mopeds to get around. Now, hop on.”

Being driven along incredible winding, quaint Italian streets with my arms wrapped around Dom’s waist, I feel like Lizzie McGuire in her movie.

This is my childhood dream come true.

Dom and I spend the day going around Naples. He takes me on a coastal drive, we stop at the beach, we grab lunch on the water and have ice creams as we browse in shops. It’s heaven. It’s perfect. I can’t quite believe it’s actually happening. I feel the urge to pinch myself and check that this is indeed real.

I take a ton of pictures to send to Hanna. I even take a selfie of Dom and I with Vesuvius in the background. We don’t return home until late afternoon, around five. The Sun is still high in the sky and baking us with heat. Cicadas are buzzing in the trees and the whole atmosphere is like every childhood memory of holidays rolled into one.

Dom and I agree that we’d both like a swim. I know what he’s really wanting, he made that very clear last night. I change into a bikini and meet him down by the pool. No one is around, not even his bodyguards. He tells me that he needs fewer when he is in Naples, it is safer for him here, amongst his own people. To be honest, no one is going to get over the enormous ten foot fence around this compound.

We have the gorgeous pool to ourselves. After hours in the Sun, the temperature of the water is cool and refreshing, not cold. I use the steps to enter tentatively. I give my body a chance to adapt to the water’s temperature. Dom dives straight in from the deep end of the pool. He swims underwater and I watch his blurry silhouette approach me.

He breaks the surface and stands before me. Both of us are standing in the shallow part of the pool. It is shoulder-deep for me and almost waist-deep for him.

Before he can reach for me, I swerve out of his way and dive under the water. I swim the full length of the pool and start doing laps, warming myself up. Dom smirks and joins me. I swap from a forward crawl into breaststroke, taking my time going up and down.

Dom can’t keep his hands off me for long, but I slip out of his reach each time he tries to grab for me. He makes a noise of irritation, which makes me laugh. He suddenly splashes me, surprising the hell out of me. I never expecting him to act childishly.

It’s a decoy to distract me. he grabs my waist and drags me towards him. He snakes his arms around me and constricts them, pressing me to his wet body. I try to wriggle out of his grip, but he’s having none of it.

“Stop wiggling like that or you’re going to make me contaminate this beautifully clean pool,” he murmurs huskily in my ear.

Deciding to goad him, I look at him and scrunch up my nose. “You’re going to shit yourself?”

Domenico narrows his eyes at me and squeezes my hips in warning. “No, gattina. You’re going to make me ejaculate in my shorts.”

I burst out laughing and he frowns at me.

“Sorry,” I manage to say the words between giggles. “It’s just funny hearing you say ejaculate. Especially, with your accent.”

He glares at me, but I can see that he is resisting a smile. “Are you making fun of my accent, gattina?”

I shake my head, trying to sober up. “No! It’s just a funny word, that’s all.”

He smiles coyly and grabs the back of my neck. I know this move now; I know he intends to kiss me. Just as he closes the distances between us, I bring my hand up and splash him in the face with water.

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. I try to get out of his grip, but he’s too strong. Shit. Maybe that wasn’t the best idea.

He opens his eyes. Water drips down his face and off his eyelashes. “Wrong move, gattina,” he purrs.

He grabs the back of my neck again and this time, he brings his mouth down over mine before I can do anything about it. He kisses me earnestly, demanding my mouth to respond. I kiss him back, sinking into him.

My body can’t resist his. Underneath the water, our legs entwine, and Dom moves us, until my back hits the pool wall. Trapped, he takes control of the kiss and devours my mouth.

He breaks it suddenly and grabs my waist. A squeak escapes my lips as he surprises me. He lifts me out of the water and sets me down on the pool-side.

He grabs the knot on the side of my bikini bottoms and pulls. I gasp and try to cover myself as I am exposed to him, but he grabs my wrists and pins them to my sides. Panicked, I look around but find no one. We are alone.


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