You’re going to drive me insane, Daniela, even before I taste your sweet little pussy. If I didn’t have a war to fight, you wouldn’t be going anywhere.
You belong here. In Porto. Deep down you know it, and that’s why you don’t want to sell the property. The fertile vineyards, the lush valley, and the ancient city—reigning over the empire is your destiny—and mine.
For now, I’m going to give you some time to play. Something you never had the chance to do under your father’s watchful eye. It’ll be my wedding gift to you, before I bring you home and drop you into a gilded cage, where you’ll spend the rest of your days as my obedient wife.
Until then, develop your passions, take some classes, dance in clubs, and sip those fruity drinks that young American women love so much. You can have your fun away from the glare of the spotlight, but under my protection.
Enjoy, pretty girl, but not too much, or I’ll drag you home and drape your tight little body across my knee, until your ass is the color of Vintage Port. Then I’ll fuck you until your screams echo off the stucco walls.
I pull the red ribbon from my jacket and smooth the satin between my fingers before bringing it to my nose. The faint scent of orange blossoms, sweet and pure, brings my dick to life.
We’ll meet again, Princesa, and when—
Boom!
The car jerks sideways. I jerk with it.
Thiago brakes, and the vehicle skids to the right.
What the fuck?
I glance out the window, struggling to stay upright in the seat.
A rig is alongside us—inches away. Even a reinforced car is no match for something that size. We’re caught between the monster truck and the edge of the narrow road.
The river. Fuck.
The truck swerves and sideswipes us, again.
We land on the shoulder, spinning, the Mercedes teetering on the edge of the embankment.
My fucking phone is nowhere to be found.
I grab the seat in front of me for leverage and fumble for the button, lowering the partition between us.
“This is an attack!” I bark, as Thiago fights to control the vehicle.
Boom!
Fuck!
“We need reinforcements,” he yells, as we take another hit and tumble into the steep ravine.
“Call the villa. Press the SOS button on the steering wheel,” I shout over the noise.
Thiago doesn’t respond. Not even when I scream his name the second time. Or the third.
Time slows as we bounce around the interior, weightless.
While the car rolls, I claw my way to the front, and cling to the steering wheel. My vision is blurry, dotted in black. I grope for the button and press. But I can’t hold on.
The car bounces, sending my head into the windshield.
Can’t see.Need to stay awake.
Stay awake.
Stay awake.