Dominic reached for the blanket.
Isadora clutched it tighter, but it was useless. His fingers grazed hers..light, unhurried..and he peeled the fabric down inch by inch like he was unwrapping a f*****g gift. Like he had every right to see what was underneath. What he’d done.
And he did.
Because her body already belonged to him.
“Look at you,” he murmured as the sheet dropped lower, exposing her breasts first. His eyes didn’t just linger. They devoured. His gaze was heavy. Her n*****s tightened instantly. His voice dipped. “Il mio capolavoro.”
(My masterpiece.)
She shivered.
He dragged the blanket lower. Her belly. The bruises on her ribs. The streaks of dried c*m. The way her inner thighs still glistened. She tried to turn away. He gripped her chin and tilted her face back to him.
“
