An Heiress in Venice

by Tara Crescent

  I looked at her. Oh, I wasn’t done, not by a long shot. I wanted this woman again. “We are only just getting started, Alice,” I said, kissing each of her fingers.

  She stretched lazily and hummed in pleasure. “In that case,” she smiled, “let’s head to the bedroom right now?”

  ***

  Alice:

  I’d been reckless before, but I had never been as reckless as I was being tonight. But Enzo was in my apartment and we’d made love on my couch. He was in my bedroom, and I didn’t want to think anymore, I didn’t want to be sensible. I just wanted to feel. I wanted magic.

  Enzo pulled me into his body and kissed my neck, and I felt the tremors course through my body again. I reached for him and pulled his mouth down on mine, and our lips met in an explosion of passion. “What do you want, Alice?” he asked me.

  “Why, are you going to do whatever I want?” I replied, and he blinked at me, startled, before a truly wicked smile curled on his lips.

  “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I will. But you’ll have to ask for it.” He moved me backwards until my legs made contact with the bed, and he pushed me down on it. A wordless gesture had me parting my thighs for him.

  “Make me come again,” I said boldly, wondering how far he was going to let me go with this.

  He shook his head. “Too broad of a request,” he said, his lips twitching. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  I felt the heat rise on my face. I’d been married when I was nineteen, still a virgin, and Ian had obviously been a lot more experienced than me. I’d never actually asked for anything; I wasn’t used to being explicit about my needs and desires.

  “Enzo,” I started to protest, then I bit my lip and stopped at his look of displeasure. “Sir,” I tried again. “I’ve never done this before.”

  “Done what, Alice?” he asked, amused. We were both naked. I lay back on the bed and he watched me, and damn it, he was trying not to laugh at me. A vein of stubbornness I didn’t know I possessed opened, and I squared my shoulders. Fine. He wanted me to ask? I was going to ask.

  “Please Sir,” I said. “Would you suck my nipples?”

  In response, he just growled. His eyes glinted in pleasure, and he lowered his head down to my breasts, sucking each nipple in turn until they both stood, swollen and erect, engorged with desire.

  I shifted restlessly. I felt each pull of his talented mouth as a shockwave that travelled straight to my pussy. My fingers reached down unthinkingly, to touch my swollen core, and he hissed in displeasure.

  “You don’t get to touch yourself without permission,” he said evenly. His fingers traced a path down my body, lightly grazing my breasts. “These are mine to touch,” he said. “Aren’t they, Alice?”

  I whimpered at that light touch. More. I wanted more. “Yours Sir,” I agreed. “These are your breasts.”

  His eyes flashed a deep satisfaction, as his fingers continued their travels. He circled my belly button with his forefinger, and I shivered. “This is your belly button, Sir,” I said, unprompted and was rewarded with his smile.

  “Very good, gattina,” he said, his mouth nibbling at my throat. His fingers slid down my body towards my core, his knuckles grinding into my slit. “Your pussy, Sir,” I gasped, as my hips lurched greedily towards him.

  “That’s right, Alice,” he said. “And you don’t get to touch my pussy without permission.”

  Wait, he meant just for right now, didn’t he? But his lips at my nipples distracted me. “You know,” he raised his head and surveyed me. “If you want me to do something else, you’ve got to ask for it.”

  Damn it. I had hoped that he had forgotten.

  I felt the heat rise in my cheeks as I uttered the next words. “Can you use your teeth?” I asked hesitantly.

  “Use my teeth where, gattina?”

  “On my nipples, Sir,” I whispered, and my entire body shook with tremors as he nipped those swollen peaks. He sucked and he nibbled, and his teeth grazed each engorged bud, and I fisted my hands at my side and moaned with pleasure. My pussy wept with need at his touch. His erection nudged the space between my legs, and I couldn’t deal with the slow build-up anymore. I needed him in me with a sudden, clawing desperation.

  “Please Sir,” I pleaded. “Please fuck me.”

  His lips curved into a half-smile, but he reached for a condom. I smiled inwardly. I hadn’t even noticed him bringing the foil packet into my bedroom.

  “How would you like to be fucked, Alice?” he asked me. No doubt he was referring to a position, but when I answered, I begged for something else. “Take me for your pleasure, Sir,” I pleaded, and his eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t need to take, do I Alice?” he asked. “No. You will give yourself to me.” His fingers curved around my chin, and he inclined my head and I met his gaze.

  I looked into his eyes, and almost drowned in their warm brown depths. My emotions were a sudden, raging storm, and I willed myself to find my center, the one spot of calm that remained in me. When my words came out, they came from that spot of calm.

  I couldn’t lie to myself. The connection I felt with him was ocean-deep, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.

  You will give yourself to me, he had said. My answer was wrenched from a place where only truth existed. “Sir,” I whispered, holding his gaze. “I already have.”

  An unnamed emotion flashed in his eyes. “Turn around,” he said gruffly. “Get on your hands and knees.” I obeyed wordlessly, and I heard the distinctive crinkle of the condom wrapper tearing, and then he plunged into me with a hard stroke.

  I bit my lip as he bottomed out, and that little slice of pain knifed through my body. But it was a good pain, and I pushed my hips back, mutely begging for more.

  Smack. The spank echoed in the quiet, and a stinging, warming pain blossomed from the spot where his palm made contact. I hissed and wriggled my hips, my response the same as before. More. I wanted more.

  He fucked me, hard and fast, deep and sure. He smacked my ass, and each stinging blow made me whimper and beg for more. His hands wound through my hair, pulling slightly at the roots, and I shivered in complete pleasure at the tiny prickles of pain in my scalp.

  I was riding a relentless wave; I was being pulled higher and higher. His hands seemed everywhere. On my ass, grazing the reddened skin with his fingernails. On my clitoris, urging me towards climax. In my hair, holding me in place as he pummelled my body.

  Too much. It was all too much. My orgasm was a tidal wave, relentless and unstoppable, and when I exploded with a shriek, I felt him stiffen and groan, grabbing my hips to pull my body deep down on his cock.

  ***

  I couldn’t throw him out. I was greedy and I wanted him to spend the night. Once again, I dismissed my fears with reckless abandon. “So,” I asked him sleepily once we’d washed up and prepared for bed. “I don’t get to touch my pussy without permission?”

  He gave me an even look. “No orgasms without permission,” he said. “There will be consequences if you masturbate.”

  I pouted, but he was entirely unmoved. He just smiled lazily at me. “My pussy, gattina. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I giggled and moved into his body.

  Chapter 17

  Alice:

  We’d texted all week. We’d made plans to have dinner Friday. I was more than happy to skip Casanova and have Enzo all to myself. I was going to cook dinner for him. We were going to eat a nice, romantic meal, and he told me he had something special planned for the evening. I couldn’t wait.

  Of course, things fell apart.

  Friday afternoon, when I received the letter in the mail, I realized the price of my greed and the extent of my self-delusion. My hands were shaking as I opened the envelope, and chills ran down my spine.

  Sure enough, there was a photo of Enzo and me, kissing at the front door of the palazzo. And on the back was a rant, written in red ink. At least, I hoped it was red ink.

  Are you fuckin
g kidding me, Alice? Do you want your nice gentleman friend to die? End this. I grow tired of your defiance.

  Did I want Enzo to die? I had been reckless, I’d involved Enzo, and now, he was in danger. I had to pay the price. I had to end things with Enzo tonight at Casanova.

  No matter what the cost to my heart was, I had to keep him safe.

  ***

  Enzo:

  She had texted me, cancelling our dinner plans, and asking if she could see me instead at Casanova.

  I knew an ending when I saw it. What I didn’t know was why.

  She cared for me. She knew I cared for her. She was safe – Antonio’s protection had ensured no more break-in attempts, and my conversation with Luigi had kept her out of the tabloids. I’d watched the fear recede gradually from her eyes.

  I’d watched her slowly reciprocate my advances, and when she’d laughed and invited me to her apartment on Sunday, I thought we’d turned a corner.

  She was blowing hot and cold, and I had one of two options. I could think she was a tease, someone who got their kicks and giggles by playing games.

  Every instinct I possessed told me that wasn’t it. She was afraid. Something was preventing her from being who she was. I’d been content to slowly uncover her layers when I thought we had all the time in the world. But now, I needed to act. Fast.

  ***

  She was practically distraught when she got to Casanova. I could tell she was struggling not to burst into tears. “What’s the matter, gattina?” I asked, pulling her into my arms. Her body was trembling, and I wanted to hold her tight and promise her that I’d take care of everything. She had nothing to fear.

  “Please, Enzo,” she whispered. “I just need to lose myself for a bit. Please take me hard.”

  When it came down to it, I could refuse her nothing. “In that case, Alice,” I said evenly, “come with me.”

  Chapter 18

  Alice:

  I shivered. His tone had been hard, smoky and sexy; a sure sign that the games between us were beginning. I was weak, but I needed him. One last time.

  “What are we doing?” I asked him, as he pulled me into a private room, furnished only with a bed and the usual dresser filled with sex toys.

  He flashed me a truly evil grin. “You’ll find out in due course of time,” he responded. He pulled a black silk blindfold out of the bag and dangled it from his fingertips.

  Motes of arousal danced over my entire body at his words; at the ownership implicit in his tone. Unasked, I knelt, my knees parted, my hands linked behind my back. “Yes, Sir,” I whispered.

  Tuck away the memories, Alice. Remember everything. The way his body feels under your fingers, the way his stubble grazes your face when he whispers into your ears. Remember this feeling of utter, complete protected security, though it won’t last. Because, tonight, when you leave this club, this ends.

  I pushed back all the emotions with ruthless need. This was almost the end, and I wanted to submerge myself fully in Enzo. Grief could come later.

  He tucked a stray tendril of hair behind my ear. “Very good, Alice,” he said. “I do like the kneeling. But you should get naked first.”

  I removed my clothes with a minimum of fuss. If he wanted a strip-tease, he’d ask for it. My only role was to obey. Once I was naked, I settled back on my knees, my legs spread apart so I was exposed to his gaze.

  I waited.

  “Let’s talk about anal sex,” Enzo said. “Interested, or is it a hard limit for you?”

  I flushed slightly at his directness. “I like anal,” I responded and he smirked. “What?” I asked defensively. “I was married, you know. It’s a myth that married couples don’t have sex or experiment.”

  He laughed aloud. “That wasn’t why I laughed,” he elaborated. “I just really like when you are open about what you want.”

  I tilted my face up for a kiss, and his lips grazed mine. When I revealed my hidden desires, he made them come true. There was an addictive power in that honesty. “But it’s been a few years since I’ve done it.”

  He looked at me steadily, waiting for me to correct that sentence. Enzo didn’t tolerate pretty euphemisms. “It’s been a few years since I’ve had anal sex, Sir,” I offered, and he flashed me a grin.

  “I’m going to ease into it,” he said. “Don’t worry; I have a strong vested interest in making sure you enjoy yourself.”

  I smiled. It wasn’t any particular concern that he was going to be harsh that had prompted me to voice that sentiment. “I really didn’t doubt that for a second, Sir,” I said. “But I was surprised you hadn’t already broached the topic of anal sex at Casanova.” Somehow, I had expected that part of the whole Dominance thing was Enzo taking my ass when I was tied up.

  Some nameless emotion flickered in his eyes.

  ***

  Enzo:

  Why had I waited, why had I held off possessing her round, pert ass at Casanova?

  There was something about this woman. Her submission was given with grace and perfect honesty, and though she was new to the game, she played with compelling sincerity. It was more than that though. I had never objectified the women I played with at Casanova, but they had also never quite become three-dimensional to me. With Alice? I had really wanted to know her outside the club.

  I wanted to savour all of our firsts, and I didn’t want them all to be at the club. I wanted them to be in the privacy of our own space, our togetherness unmarred by observers. Nothing made me realize how important Alice was to me than my reluctance to share any part of her.

  Alice Blackwell was precious to me. Sometime in the last month, she’d become someone I wanted in my life. No, more than that. I didn’t just want her. She quenched a thirst in me I didn’t even realize I had. I needed her.

  And so, here we were at Casanova, and here I was, talking about anal sex.

  ***

  I didn’t answer her question.

  Instead, I tied the blindfold in place, and tugged her forward. “Come,” I said, placing my hand at the back of her neck. She obeyed, her steps sure, trusting that I would keep her from harm, and I felt my throat constrict at that unspoken gesture of faith.

  I positioned her face-up at the center of the bed. For a brief second, I regretted the blindfold. I would have liked to watch the expression in her eyes as I pleasured her. Instead, I would have to contend myself with her breathy moans of need, and I would need to be satisfied with the way that her face twisted with desire.

  I pulled out a tube of lubricant and a still-in-its-wrapping medium-size butt plug from the dresser. As I had promised, I had every intention of taking it slow. I wanted my dolcezza to give me every part of her body without fear. Her nervousness in a session was to be desired, something that would sharpen her lust. But true fear? That had no place in any relationship, D/s or otherwise.

  Slicking the plug with lube, I approached her. Her breathing was slightly faster than normal, and her skin was covered with tiny goose bumps. But her legs were spread for me, and I could see that her pussy was coated with her juice. This was anticipation; and judging by the aching steel of my erection, it was an anticipation that I thoroughly shared.

  I propped two pillows under her ass and nudged the plug against her tight hole. I saw her take a deep breath as she relaxed her muscles. “Very nice, gattina,” I muttered. “That’s right. Relax those muscles for me.”

  “Yes Sir,” she gasped as I pushed in the plug. Her muscles stretched and yielded, and I swallowed at the overwhelmingly erotic sight of the toy disappearing into her ass. I tapped the base of the plug, and she whimpered.

  “How does that feel, Alice?” I asked.

  “God, I’d forgotten how good this feels,” she moaned. “How sinfully wrong.” A cheeky grin flashed across her face for a brief second. “How nice.”

  I bit back my laugh at her sass, and spanked her exposed pussy. “Don’t be a brat, Alice,” I warned, but I could hear the note of indulgence in my voice. “Not unless you don�
�t want to come tonight.”

  She nodded. “I want to come tonight, Sir,” she offered. “I’ll be good.”

  I shook my head, an amused smile on my face. There were Doms, even at Casanova, that would have felt disrespected by her attitude, but I cherished it. Each little bit of sass spoke to a deep comfort and trust. If she was afraid, she wouldn’t be tossing out smart-ass one-liners. She’d be clenched tight and quiet and terrified. I couldn’t imagine wanting that kind of mute submission.

  “You are soaking wet, gattina,” I told her, and watched as her skin coloured. I settled myself between her legs, needing to taste the juices that were threatening to drip on the sheets below.

  Each pull of my mouth drew little whimpers from her. Her open thighs quivered around me, as she fought against clamping them shut. She was a soft, trembling ball of need, and I wasn’t holding back; I wanted her to climax.

  “Can I come, Sir?” she begged, and I moved my palm to rest against her body.

  “Anytime you want, gattina,” I said, and she whimpered, undoubtedly aware that my offer came with strings attached. I grinned. She wasn’t entirely off-base; I typically enjoyed keeping her at the edge. Today though – when I plunged my cock into her tight ass, I wanted her sated and relaxed.

  My tongue traced a tight circle over her clitoris, and she made a little mewl. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see her hands placed above her head, almost by habit. Her fingers were fisted into the pillows, and every muscle in her body was clenched as she neared her peak.

  I pushed three fingers into her pussy, wanted to feel the tremors, and she groaned and shattered. Her muscles pulsed and pulled at my fingers, sucking them deeper into her body. Her head was thrown back, and she completely abandoned herself to sensation.

  When I felt her muscles ease, I pulled myself up, and cupped her jaw in my hand, kissing her across her lips. She deepened the kiss, and when we finally broke contact, she giggled a little. “You taste like pussy,” she said.

  I laughed. “Pussy is delicious,” I told her, and she licked her lips.