Ensnared by Mafia, Days and Nights

If not for her gratitude for him saving her grandmother, Giselle would have been far less patient.

"Come in," she said, stepping aside to make room for Henry.

Henry entered the dance studio, a place typically reserved as Giselle's personal sanctuary, one he normally wouldn't dare to intrude upon.

The studio was set up like a compact one-bedroom suite, furnished with all the essentials, including a fridge stocked with Giselle's favorite snacks and beverages.

Occasionally, she spent the whole day there, and Henry, not wanting to disturb her but concerned she might be hungry, had arranged for a fridge to be installed and stocked it weekly.

Giselle directed him to what she considered the best seat in the house and adjusted a small sofa for him. "Please, sit."

The table beside him was already set with drinks she had prepared in advance. Henry settled into the sofa with satisfaction, stretching out lazily and crossing his legs, his eyes following the fluid movements of Giselle's elegant dance. Today, on his twenty-eighth birthday, his beloved had agreed to perform a dance just for him.

Lifting his beverage, a sweet-tasting sparkling water with a hint of peach-a flavor he imagined a young woman would favor-Henry savored a sip.

The sweetness exploded on his palate, a burst of delight he hadn't known in his earlier years, filling his heart with an unprecedented joy.

As the music filled the expansive room, Giselle danced in time with the rhythm, her toes tapping the floor gracefully, reminiscent of a swan playing in the water.

From her calves to the instep, she maintained an aesthetically pleasing curve, each movement marked with a beautiful arc.

Watching her, Henry found himself swallowing hard, gripping his drink and taking a large gulp to quell the burgeoning whimsical thoughts within him.

As the music climaxed, Giselle's steps quickened, even causing a blur of motion.

By the midpoint of her performance, Henry's drink was finished. He stood to fetch another bottle from the fridge.

However, after pouring himself another drink, he didn't immediately sit down but instead chose to view Giselle from another angle.

The lighting in the dance studio rendered her apricot-colored dress slightly translucent, revealing her sleek, elegantly poised back.

As the dance concluded, the fading music mingled with Giselle's soft panting, sparking the imagination.

Henry approached her swiftly, his hands naturally finding her waist.

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Her body, warmed up from the dance, felt alive and supple beneath his touch.

Overwhelmed, he sighed deeply, pressing her gently down onto the sofa as he leaned over her.

The light caught the sweat on her nose, making it glisten like drops of honey.

He retrieved a wet wipe and began to gently dab away the sweat from her face.

Even as his patience wore thin, he handled her with the delicacy of an artist tending to a priceless sculpture.

The thought of what they might do in the dance studio unsettled Giselle.

She tugged at the wet wipe in Henry's hand, saying, "I can do it myself."

"I'll take care of it," Henry insisted gently, prying her fingers open to take the wet wipe from her.

After wiping her face, the kisses that followed seemed to herald an impending storm.

Planning your weekend reading? Ensure you're on 000005s.org for uninterrupted enjoyment. The next chapter is just a click away, exclusively available on our site. Happy reading! The kisses fell like a torrential downpour, each one striking Giselle's skin, overwhelming her senses.

Henry adjusted their positions frequently, taking advantage of Giselle's flexibility, which allowed him a broad range of movement.

When he finally carried her out of the dance studio, Giselle could barely open her eyes, her body still trembling slightly.

She deeply regretted the terrible idea she had come up with earlier that day at the hospital to avoid a medical examination.

It was as if she had walked straight into the lion's den!

And now that Henry knew how easily he could manipulate her body, his appetite had increased significantly. When would this ordeal end?

...

Deep into the night, outside a villa in Southampton, three people were angrily arguing with the gate guard. The guard pulled out a long gun and curtly warned, "Stop this nonsense or I won't be nice!"