Uncensored (The Manhattanites Book 7)

by Avery Aster

  Limo after limo unloaded one couple after another.

  “Here we are!” Jemma shouted to Luigi, who stood next to him as she grabbed his arm. “Lex is right behind me at security.” She pointed behind her to focus Massimo’s attention as Luigi pulled her close and walked the red carpet.

  He studied Jemma with suspicion. She didn’t make eye contact. Something didn’t sit right, but…what?

  Massimo scanned the crowd, trying to find Lex.

  Yuk. His eyes caught the unfortunate Scilla and Ottavia staring at him. They were two hangers-on who remained ill-fated reminders to his friends’ choices for mistresses. He’d never let them get any closer than a hello.

  Scilla, the anorexic-looking stray, waved to him from the velvet rope’s other side. “Massimo, you want Ottavia and me on your arm tonight?”

  “Ciao, principe,” barked Ottavia. She exemplified a gluttonous port.

  “No grazie,” he replied and offered a fake smile. Massimo turned away with zero interest, checking to make sure his wallet remained in his back pocket. Lex, hurry…

  Scilla and Ottavia, professional con-artists, existed by trolling those with means. While attending The Rolex Capri Sailing Week, he’d heard some society gossip. Last seen in Forte dei Marmi, the girls cleaned out a retired millionaire’s bank account. Poor bastard had made his riches as a leather manufacturer, and today—penniless. How those two hustlers ended up there to bother everyone again remained anyone’s guess, but he’d stay clear at every cost.

  Lex squeezed up behind him. “Sorry, we ran late. Boy, it’s shoulder to shoulder under this rooftop.” Taking his arm, she gave him a peck on the cheek.

  The gathering moved him farther away from Scilla and Ottavia, who shot Lex stink-eyes.

  “It’s okay, bella.” He set his focus onward, guiding Lex behind him through the group. Massimo stepped up to the press box and red carpet area for photos. He heard their names called, but voices became distant as his eyes refocused.

  Stepping out from the assembly, Lex threw a poncho to the side.

  What the… His eyes caught Lex in full view, naked. His jaw hung open as he sucked the summer humidity in. Powerless to determine what had happened, he thanked his feet for remaining planted on the ground.

  She turned to face him, such lustrous beauty.

  Pop! Flash! The flashbulbs went off. Clickety-click. Pop! Flash!

  Right hand on her hip, Lex tilted her face for the cameras. Advancing one foot out from the other she smiled, a stunning beam held for sixty seconds. Lex eyed the paparazzi at her far left, and bit by bit she turned her face and repositioned her feet. She kept her face front and center then gave the photographers a wink, dropping her shoulders back into a sexy laugh when she eyed the final group on her far right.

  Where did she learn to strut and pose this way? “Lex!” An audible sound of disbelief erupted from his lips and his breath caught. No, she wasn’t naked, but alluded as much. She wore the sexiest dress he’d ever seen—it didn’t suit her character at all. How did he not see her dress earlier? He’d caught her face as she approached.

  “Prince, come on. The cameras are snapping.” Lex spoke as if she wore jeans and a t-shirt.

  “Over here, Signorina Easton!” shouted a reporter. Pop! Flash!

  “What do you have on?” Massimo tugged her close to him to cover her up.

  “The Times wanted more skin. I’m giving everyone what they asked for.”

  Decked in a helmet beehive hairstyle, a woman walked up and introduced herself as Molly with a camera behind her. The red button flashed, indicating it was recording. “Lex Easton, you look smashing this evening on Prince Massimo Tittoni’s arm in something we’d never expect from you, a risqué gown.” She continued, her British accent soothing his unease. “Mind telling BBC World Fashion News who you are wearing?”

  Lex had turned an about-face in his mind. Who stood with confidence facing the reporter and onlookers? She couldn’t be the American he’d dragged to an event the night prior.

  She licked her lips. “Hi, Molly. It’s great to see you. My gown is by Jemma Fereti for Girasoli.” Lex smiled, offering a turn.

  The reporter nodded. “Where might our viewers at home order this gown?” She motioned for the cameraman to secure a pan shot.

  “This dress is sold by custom order at the prince’s Milan showroom. It’s Girasoli’s new luxury couture line.”

  “Fantastic. We look forward to learning more about you two and the projects ahead in the weeks to come.” The reporter turned to face the camera, allowing Lex and Massimo to walk behind her. “I’m Molly Straten for BBC World News.”

  He held on to Lex’s arm, attempting to smile as the camera’s recording light flashed to black.

  Lex turned for the photographers shouting her name.

  Torn over whether to socialize, dance, or take Lex home and cover her up, Massimo didn’t know where to start first.

  “What?” She turned, studying his confusion.

  “Follow me.” He walked her through the crowd, ignoring the people waiting to speak to him.

  “Massimo, don’t you wanna say hello to—”

  “Basta.” Massimo scanned the large club as they stepped inside.

  Lit and roped off, the right side showcased artwork up for auction with additional security. The expansive space was decorated in white, quiet with everyone staring one another up and down, exuding society’s good graces.

  Massimo couldn’t turn around and march back out the front door. The media would label him as unsupportive. He and Lex needed to stay for at least an hour or two.

  Across the hall, the dance floor was packed with bodies in the dark, grinding to a trance tempo with atmospheric melodic phrases. He motioned at his bodyguard to take a break and leave them be. “Come on.” He hugged Lex tight around her narrow waist and carried her to the dance floor.

  “Masi!” Lex’s hair clip dropped to Massimo’s feet. Golden locks cascaded over her bare shoulders.

  He returned her to her feet and reached down, picking up the diamond accessory. The floorboards vibrated under his feet to the electronic tunes. He remained down, staring up at Lex.

  My wish came true—those legs. Long legs supported her exquisite physique, and the entire room’s focus turned to Lex. He realized no matter where he took her, onlookers would want to be close to her. How could they resist? She’d finally come out from hiding behind her sewing machine and was truly a sight to behold. Lex trusted in his company to help her forget about her family and, for one night, allow her to just dance. “Let us have fun, bella.” She extended her hand as he stood, holding her tightly in his grip. Together, they stepped into the party.

  Untz. Untz. Untz.

  “Yo, yo, yo! This is y’all’s boy, DJ Dejon! You ready to trip wit’ me on my latest spin? This ditty we’s callin’ Undressed,” a male voice shouted over the sound system.

  Moving to the dance floor, Massimo rested his lips alongside her ear and squeezed her tight. “I see Jemma has influenced you.”

  “The gown is growing on me. I love it, don’t you?” Lex stepped back, adjusting her breasts for him to admire. Tapping her feet, she moved her hips and danced. He noticed her body responded to the high-speed tune better than the previous night’s Giuseppe Verdi's waltz.

  “Yes, very much so,” Massimo declared. “You caught me off-guard.”

  DJ Dejon’s pink laser show beamed from above. Neon fluorescence reflected over Lex’s crystal wrapping, causing her sculpted body to radiate.

  Onlookers turned to admire Lex’s beauty. He knew they would.

  She glowed.

  She danced.

  She entranced.

  Oontz. Oontz. Oontz.

  “Tell me your wet dream ’n’ I’ll be your fantasy,” Dejon recited over the beat. His orders blasted through the speakers. “What’s your fantasy, y’all?”

  The words sent a chill through Massimo’s body, giving him permission to let his guard down and play. />
  Bam!—a loud smoke gunshot went off. Shiny gold and silver confetti fell from the rafters, landing in Lex’s hair. Glitter stuck to her skin as she twirled and cheered along to the crowd’s attention.

  With a head shake, Massimo watched tiny metallic pieces fall to his feet. He tugged Lex into him in hopes she’d hide his obvious erection. Her hands came up over his shoulders as she inspired his feet to bop with hers. Massimo felt her nails raking his scalp, going up and down his neckline. Ah, ooh, aahh. Those nails feel good. Her touch made every inch of his body rise to attention. His nuts cinched tight as he danced with his legs a little farther apart.

  The dance floor moved with naked silhouettes, revealing the performers’ best assets. They all paled in comparison to Lex.

  He put his mouth up to her ear. “Lex, I am a jealous man. As ugly as it is to be jealous, I am. I wish I could say I’m big enough not to let it bother me, but—”

  “Zip it. Let’s have fun,” Lex interrupted him and fisted his hair tight through her knuckles. She meshed her body into his and her nipples pebbled against his chest. “My panties are wet, Masi,” she whispered.

  Unntz. Unntz. Unntz.

  “Let’s get undressed taaah nyte. Undress—” Dejon cranked up the tempo as an electric tune boomed signature Ibiza’s balearic beats. He fist-pumped from his DJ booth.

  The crowd roared.

  Massimo cupped her ass in the club’s darkness. Oh, Dio mio. Her arousal moistened his fingertips. “Bella, you said your panties are wet. I noticed you’re not wearing any.”

  “I’m not?” She ground her pelvis into his and encouraged, “Maybe you should check again.”

  “I cannot have you walking around anymore. Every man is staring at you, hard for you, wanting to—you know.” And every woman, too. He noticed the group dancing next to them. A woman kissed a girl who stroked a guy.

  For a second, a familiar face flashed by in a blur, dancing and bumping. Massimo put the suspicion aside, realizing Rocco had scheduled himself to work at the mansion that night. The Rocco lookalike danced with Pope Benny. Free from his papal vestments and in street clothes, God’s Rottweiler came out to whoop it up with his gays in his red Prada loafers.

  “No, Masi, I don’t know. The only person I have an interest in has yet to fuck me.” Lex danced a foot or two away from him. Massimo realized she wouldn’t get far, though, as the dense crowd caged her in. With a seductive tease, she trotted back into his arms.

  “I do not fuck. I make love,” Massimo defended. “Bella, do not leave my side tonight, per favore.”

  “What ever.” Her eyebrows arched, testing his response. She returned her chin to his shoulder as her body pulsated to the music against his.

  “Do not test me if you cannot finish what you start.” She’ll be gone tomorrow.

  “I never leave anything unfinished.” She turned around grazing her backside into him. Taking hold of his hands she lifted them in the air. Her head falling back against his chest as she lowered both of their hands to her stomach and glided them over her pussy.

  He inhaled her hair’s sweet smell as the lock’s tickled his face. Massimo rubbed their combined hands deeper over her mound as he ground his erection into her ass. “Let us go home.”

  “No, I don’t want to.” Lex turned to face him, wrapping her arms tight around his shoulders. He didn’t want to let her go. “Take me downstairs.”

  Platinette, a well-known tiara-wearing drag queen in platform shoes, blew a brassy saxophone and danced around them.

  Lex teased, tapping Massimo’s ass. Maybe Massimo didn’t hear Lex right. Did she say downstairs? How did she know about the private rooms?

  “Eh? What did you—?”

  “You heard me!” Lex exclaimed. The same you heard me she’d snarled at him over their first dinner brought a smile to his face. But that time, she danced in his arms.

  I love her. “Downstairs?”

  She nodded. “Uh-huh. Do as the music says.” With an adventurous hair toss, she repeated, “Undress me.”

  “Are you sure?” Wondering if she’d drunk Bellinis without him, he lifted her head and caught her eyes with his. Lex stared at him, an unsated hunger in her eyes. Making love to Lex could change everything.

  “Yes.” She placed her hands over his chest and confirmed, “We both want this.”

  He gripped her hand and glanced over his shoulder as they headed for the elevator. Massimo instructed his bodyguards to wait for them upstairs. He wanted to be alone with Lex.

  ALL CAMERAS, CELL PHONES & VIDEO ARE PROHIBITED read a large sign at the elevator’s entrance.

  Going Down in Tabitha Simmons Chandelier Stilettos

  “I love your chest, Masi.” Lex unbuttoned three notches from Massimo’s shirt, running her fingers across his well-developed chest. Thin, dark hair covered his defined pectorals. Magnificent.

  They were alone in the elevator, the wheels cranking, descending, taking them away from the paparazzi, music and onlookers as they lowered five floors underground.

  “Grazie, I have always wanted to see the downstairs. Everyone talks about it.” Between his kisses, he illuminated tidbits on the seventeenth-century building they partied in. There was an underground former wine cellar located in Milan’s Zone One historic district called Brera. He cited the structure had been modernized with electricity and trendiness because the famous 1950s opera singer Maria Callas hosted many elite parties there. Lex speculated as to why he rambled on. Massimo couldn’t be nervous. Could he?

  “Are you going to make me sing soprano?” She tucked her fingers along his trousers’ brim, rubbing his cock’s head with her thumb.

  “Sì,” he replied with confidence. Heat passed through her as she realized he stared at her, in effect through her. Everything came into focus. Perhaps she’d mistaken his apparent tenseness for intense seriousness.

  No turning back now.

  The elevator doors released. She stepped out into a romantic Lombard interior opening.

  “This is beautiful.” Lit with silver candelabras, the space was decorated as something straight from Architectural Digest magazine.

  “I have never seen the rooms, but Luigi says they are amazing.” He motioned her over to the concierge who greeted them and provided a floor plan with house rules such as; ask before you touch, bring your own condoms, wipe up after yourself, don’t be creepy, and keep in touch with your emotions.

  “Numero uno,” stated a young male model type who stood at the podium. He slipped Massimo a key with a Roman numeral “I” centered in gold foil.

  Massimo gripped the brass chain, leading Lex down an extended hallway. She held on to his arms, rubbing his triceps under his shirt. Months spent fantasizing she’d be held by those muscles came to be her reality, and hopefully more was to come very soon.

  He unlocked the door, letting her in as he followed behind her. Decorated in creams and violet with paneled walls and a white marble floor, Lex felt at home in the room. Two gothic leather settees sat opposite a sizeable round bed. Fitted in lavish pillows in varying jade hues, she walked over to the edge, picking up a cushion and drawing the fabric to her.

  “We have all night, bella. No Girasoli, Easton, Jemma, Rocco, dogs, or security guards.” Relief washed over his handsome face as he slipped off his sport coat, and he added, “Only you and me.” He placed the jacket on a nearby chair. His masculine beauty filled the room.

  “When is the last time you didn’t have any distractions?” she asked.

  “Years.” Dimming the crystal globes hanging above, Massimo staged the room to amber then walked over to her. “Bella, you are an enjoyable distraction.”

  Finishing what she’d started in the elevator, she unbuttoned his shirt. His cock gave a thick impression under his slacks. On the last button, Massimo held up his arms. She unfastened his ruby cufflinks, peeling his silk shirt off then dropping it to the floor.

  “So handsome, so hot,” she complimented, admiring his six-pack. Pressing her l
ips to his pecs for a kiss, she opened her mouth, and teased his left nipple with a light bite. His muscled body surprised her with a flinch. Soothing his tenderness, she licked his scratch, tasting citrus on her tongue. “Good for you?”

  “Sì, feels buono.”

  “Masi’s nips are sensitive,” she teased. Lex rotated her attention to the other while he loosened his belt buckle, taking charge.

  His pants dropped with a thud.

  “Turn around, face the wall.” He kicked his loafers off and stepped out from his pants, pulling his briefs down.

  “What?”

  “Tonight, you do as I say,” he ordered.

  Lex clenched her vaginal muscles together. Pressing her backside against him, his hard cock pulsated upon her flesh.

  Dominant. Powerful. Male.

  “Someone is excited,” she gasped as an intent tug pulled at her back.

  “Sì, since the day I met you.” Massimo rubbed his hands over her shoulders, his touch warming her body. “You have been, also,” he confirmed as he unzipped her dress. He lifted the bedazzled material above her midsection, then up over Lex’s head.

  “Much better.” Being naked in his presence excited her. Lex felt her hair cascade over her face. The dress slipped between his affectionate fingers as he wrapped his strapping arms over her breasts, drawing her backside to his front. She fought the urge to turn around and look at his sculpted face. His eyes always told her what he thought. At that moment, she wasn’t certain what jumbled through his mind, other than he gave the impression to be spinning.

  “Eyes ahead,” he ordered. “Let me admire you for a minuto.”

  Focusing her eyes on the creamy wallpaper, she experienced a tickle as his hands slid between her legs. “Take me, Masi.”

  “Stop telling me what to do, bella.” His hand struck down over her backside.

  Yes! The loud slap shocked her. “Now we’re talking,” she responded as he grabbed at her flesh, palming her ass in his hands. Her pussy juiced inside.