"No, please, stop..." Dad pleaded, as he watched with helpless eyes.
"I can't wait to see you in your wedding dress," Marcello whispered. "I can't wait to make you Mrs Ricci. And I can't wait to tear that dress off you when the night is up... Consummate our marriage."
He trailed off his sentence, tilting my face upwards, forcing me to look him in his eyes.
"Just the way you're reacting to my touch, to the way I'm speaking to you... I can tell that you've never been touched by another man before. You can be my beautiful Arabian princess. La mia bellissima principessa araba. Still a virgin..."
He began groaning uncontrollably.
"You must be so fucking tight. I can't wait. Non vedo l'ora, piccola. I can't fucking wait, baby..."
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