~ Stephano

The next morning, she was already at the little table when I came out of the bathroom, quiet, legs crossed, that fucking silk nightgown clinging to her like a second skin. The same one she wore the first night we got here. I knew the damn thing by heart now. I could trace every inch of her thighs with my eyes closed. Knew exactly where the fabric ended and the curve of her ass began.

And she wore it again. This morning. Just like that. Like it was laundry day and she didn’t know she was driving me out of my fucking mind.

I had a towel slung...