“Taste.” He coaxed a finger into her mouth.
Adele sucked at the sweet, yet slightly tangy oil with earnest until Ambrogio reclaimed his finger. She melted when he rubbed the liquid onto her shoulders. For one magnificent moment, his digits lingered on those shoulders, the eagerness in his movements apparent after he captured her breasts, molding them in his oil-slicked hands.
His eyes circled over his prey before he latched onto a taut nipple. Ambrogio rolled it around in his teeth as Adele squirmed and grabbed his head. He nipped at one breast and then the other.
The sensual path he licked down her stomach brought him to her bellybutton where a drop of the oil was placed. His pink tongue, just one of the body parts Adele wanted to possess, retrieved the discarded liquid before he continued on his trip down her body.
He rubbed his cheek against her pelvis then plunged nose first into her damp core. Ambrogio inhaled and exhaled her scent, the heat from his breath made her wet.
“Ambrogio.” The craving was evident in Adele’s words.
“Sta paziente,” Ambrogio said.
The request for patience levied from the tormentor sent Adele into a fit of giggles. Ambrogio had covered every inch of her body with oil. As he surveyed his work, Adele’s studied him. She rested her head back on the table when he massaged her thighs, circling his thumbs into the tissue there. Ambrogio raised her leg so her knee was level with his lips.
After a chaste kiss to her kneecap, he continued to worship at the altar of her body. His exploration ended at her feet. Adele hoped he wasn’t a toe sucking man. She hated feet and doubted she could kiss him if he popped one of her piggies into his mouth. Relief swept through her body when he simply placed the object of her disdain back onto the table.
“Are you done teasing me now?”
“I’m returning the favor from this morning,” Ambrogio said.
In one swift motion, he took his shirt off and tossed it aside. Adele’s rapt admiration of Ambrogio’s body started with his chest, then gravitated down to his happy trail, a prominent bulge akin to a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow.
“Do you like what you see?” Ambrogio dropped his pants.
Adele bit her bottom lip at the sight of him, a scant amount of conquests cataloged in her sexual repertoire left her unprepared for his girth. She both feared and desired him. Ensnared by his dick, a candidate for the eighth world wonder, Adele continued to stare.
“I won’t hurt you,” he said.
“I know.”
“I want you to move to the edge of the table,” Ambrogio said.
“Why?”
“Do as you’re told,” Ambrogio gripped both her legs and jerked her forward until her ass was close to the edge.
“What are you going to do?” Adele ached to discover what Ambrogio had listed on his sexual menu.
“I am not a careless man, but I wanted nothing more than to take you right there on the sand, damn the consequences.” He sheathed himself with a condom.
“Ambrogio, please.”
“I remember how tight you were last night.” Ambrogio strummed at her labia.
“You’re infuriating, stop teasing me.”
“I am? How about when I do this?” He curved his fingers against the coiled nerves bundled inside of her.
“You’re going to kill me,” Adele said.
“I am going to give you a deep tissue massage…nella figa.” He pulled his fingers free.
Ambrogio didn’t give her any time to object, piercing her flesh, the perfect ending to his sentence. Inch by inch, Ambrogio pushed his hardness into her core. Adele closed her eyes to the exquisite combination of pleasure and pain his invasion into her body caused. She arched her back and wiggled her hips in response.
“Cara, you must be patient,” he said.
“You’re having trouble following your own advice,” Adele said.
A screen shot of ecstasy played across his face. Ambrogio eyes rolled back into his head before he shut them tightly. His concentration rippled in waves against his forehead as he burrowed himself deeper into Adele.
The next scene on Ambrogio’s face: a look of unadulterated wonder when he opened his eyes, focusing on the spot where their bodies connected. Pierced to the hilt by Ambrogio’s throbbing manhood, Adele saw his face color with a different emotion.
“This is mine,” Ambrogio punctuated his sentence with a sharp thrust.
Adele bit the inside of her cheeks, his proclamation nearly did her in, making her wetter than she could have possibly imagined. Stretched gloriously by Ambrogio, Adele shivered when he started a slow grind against her most intimate of parts. His pelvic bone grazed her clit with every gyration of his waist. Adele’s fingers sought refuge in the deep V present in his oblique’s as she held on for dear life.
“Faster,” Adele said.
She raised her lips level to his as the pressure rose in her body. Ambrogio plundered her mouth and her sex simultaneously. His sexual prowess sent Adele plummeting straight into an body rocking orgasm. Her head, held aloft to aid her desire for his lips, buckled under the strain.
As Adele panted out the last breaths of her orgasm, Ambrogio changed positions. He lifted her leg across his chest where it rejoined its partner. He rode her side saddle, gripping the curve of her hip tightly for leverage.
“You’re so beautiful,” Ambrogio said.
He plowed into her with demanding thrusts. Her timid moans and sighs grew into full blown screams. Easily malleable, Adele felt like spaghetti cooked al dente.
When Adele moved from her side to her belly, Ambrogio propped one of her legs up on the table and continued his assault. The table shook with the force of Ambrogio’s thrusts.
“Give me your arm, Cara,” Ambrogio said.
She placed her arm around his neck. Twisted like a sex pretzel, Adele’s body contorted to accommodate Ambrogio’s kisses.
“Again,” Adele said.
“As you wish.”
He palmed her breast and tweaked her clit, ministrations which sent Adele flying. Her body convulsed into spasms. Ambrogio’s body jerked against hers, signaling the finale to their lovemaking.
With his sweaty forehead braced against her back, Ambrogio’s breath returned to normal. She had regained strength in her legs, no longer needing the table to hold her up, she planted her feet firmly on the ground.
“You’ve ruined me forever,” Adele said.
She had never been taken to such heights during sex. After what just transpired, Adele feared sex with anyone else would fail to measure up to what she had just experience.
“I feel the same way about you.” He enveloped Adele in a tight hug.
Adele felt his semi-erect penis rub against her backside. She wondered if sex could be listed as a cause of death.
Chapter 14
Adele sensed the imminent danger of Ambrogio’s close proximity, to combat it, she side-stepped away from his touch, the move was met with yet another swift backhand to her rear.
“You’re becoming mighty generous with those hands of yours,” Adele said.
She rubbed her ass in a rough manner like a mom trying to remove a grass stain from a pair of pants. She stopped when she saw how enraptured he was with her movements, not wanting to entice him further. She needed to rest her throat and her vagina.
“Don’t act like you didn’t like it, Cara, and don’t move. I want to clean you up,” he said.
Ambrogio grabbed a towel from a rack suspended on the wall. With the wet towel in hand, he dabbed at the perspiration collecting around the rise and fall of her cheeks, lips, nose and mouth.
Her stomach flipped when he captured her breasts in the folds of the towel. Adele avoided his gaze, concentrating instead on the clouds in the sky. He swirled the towel around her midsection.
He spread her legs just enough to inch a portion of the towel into the apex of her thighs, the traces of their union cleaned by the gentle stroke of his hand. Adele felt Ambrogio’s finger graz
e her cheek before he used it to tilt her gaze in his direction.
“I think you’re a figment of my imagination,” Adele said.
“Would a figment of your imagination do this?” Ambrogio swiped the tepid cloth across her nether lips.
“You’re supposed to be cleaning me up, not trying to get me dirty again.” Adele reminded him.
The rest of her wipe-down occurred without further event. They dressed quickly and ventured into the belly of the spa. It was a ghost town, full of massage appointments lost. The reservation desk stood abandoned.
“You paid the entire staff to leave?”
“So, you wanted the entire staff to hear you screaming? I will remember for the next time,” Ambrogio said.
“Who says there will be a next time? You’re exaggerating. I wasn’t loud.”
“The way your need rose, pebbling against your skin when I touch you indicates something different. Don’t worry, Cara. Your shouts were like music to my ears,” he said as they continued their sexual banter on their way down the cobblestones stairs, amid cocoa trees and calls by exotic birds.
“I should check on Felicità,” Ambrogio said.
Adele agreed and they converged on Felicità’s door like troops storming an enemy stronghold. When their knocks were met with silence, Ambrogio produced a key. His heavy feet clamored against the wood floors announcing his entrance in the empty cottage. An eruption of clothes covered the desks, the bed, and the floor. Adele waded through the thick piles of clothes in search of a clue.
“Maybe she’s at the front desk again.” Adele thought back to the first time she met Felicità.
“Andiamo,” he said.
He flew past her, the gust of wind he produced with his departure further uprooted Adele’s sex hair. They started on a collision course for the front desk. Adele struggled to keep up with Ambrogio’s athletic strides across the hotel’s courtyard. Upon bursting through the doors, Ambrogio and Adele saw Marissa, Felicità’s nurse, pacing by the front desk. Ambrogio captured her mid-stride and held her firmly.
“Where is my grandmother?”
Marissa’s tear-stained face shook with apprehension. It was like someone took a pin and pricked Marissa. Her normally jovial personality buzzed around in the air before landing deflated at Ambrogio’s feet. Her chubby cheeks now appeared gout and droopy. Her voluptuous frame sagged against the weight of Ambrogio’s wrath. Before Marissa became entangled in the web of Ambrogio’s interrogations, Adele placed herself between them. She pried his hands from the frightened woman.
“Ambrogio, you need to calm down,” Adele said.
“If it was your father who was missing, would you be calm?”
Adele looked up in shock at Ambrogio’s insensitive words. He bit his lip in what she hoped was remorse.
“I apologize Adele. I am just worried about my grandmother,” Ambrogio said.
“I only left her alone for a minute,” Marissa explained.
“You left her alone. I pay you a king’s ransom to ensure she is not left alone. I gave you the benefit of the doubt the first time and now you’ve failed me again. She could be anywhere on this island,” Ambrogio said.
“Mr. Argentero, I’ve radioed the staff. The groundskeeper saw someone fitting your grandmother’s description leave in a taxi,” Celeste said.
“I want to speak with the groundskeeper,” Ambrogio said.
“He’s headed this way now,” Celeste said.
They heard him before they saw him. An orchestra of tools in play on his belt announced his arrival into the building. His bulbous figure reminded Adele of a buoy in the middle of the ocean. He bobbed up and down when he walked as if he was fighting to stay upright. He planted himself in front of Celeste, regarding his interrogators with a solemn expression.
“Ignatius, what exactly did you see Mrs. Argentero doing,” Celeste asked.
Ignatius removed a meticulously folded handkerchief from his pocket. He sopped up the rivulets of sweat dripping from his forehead and neck.
“I was pruning the bushes by the front gate. Those bushes are real sensitive. I would be too if I greeted passersby all day, every day for the duration of my life. Anyways, I ducked down real low. I tell my plants they’re doing a good job of growing. I was in the middle of my work when I heard Yanice’s cab pulling up to the property.”
“Did you see my grandmother get into the taxi?” Ambrogio resembled a scale, leaning from side to side, trying to equally distribute his annoyance with Ignatius’s long-winded answers.
“Well, she jumped into the cab like someone held a torch to her backside.” Ignatius accepted the bottle of water Celeste handed to him. The water secreted out of his pores as soon as he drank it.
“What was she wearing?” Adele asked.
“She was a vision. She wore a flowing tie-dyed skirt. I’m not certain about the rest of her outfit. The armful of jewelry she wore glowed when caught in the sun.
“Why didn’t you stop her?” Ambrogio asked.
“I’m just a groundskeeper. Plants are my game. If it ain’t got a root, I figured it means ain’t meant to stay in one place,” Ignatius said.
“Thank you, Ignatius,” Celeste said.
Celeste called Yanice after Ignatius lumbered away still patting at his slick forehead. Fortunately, he was in the area having had dropped off a passenger at a nearby hotel. Yanice walked in with his usual cool island ease. Stock piled in access, his signature cargo pants brimmed with goodies.
“I was on my way back here,” Yanice said.
“Where did you take my grandmother?”
“I took her to Pointe Serpahine in Castries. She kept saying the word “shopping.” Yanice stared at Marissa.
“You took a mentally unstable woman into one of the busiest shopping areas in St. Lucia?” Ambrogio asked.
“It’s my fault Yanice. The baby sits right on top of my bladder,” Marissa said.
I tried to hold it as long as I could. She left when I went to the bathroom.” Marissa’s hand rubbed her belly in small circles. Ambrogio narrowed his eyes on the small lump nestled in her grasp.
“Had I known you were pregnant, I would have never hired you.“
Your family may own St. Lucia, but you don’t own me. Don’t speak to my fiancé like you own her,” Yanice said.
He had drawn a line in the sand with his statement, the look in his eyes dared Ambrogio to cross it. Not only did Ambrogio cross the line, he demolished it and reconstructed it in a location of his choosing.
“I don’t own anyone, but I do own the taxi company you work for. I’d say it’s close enough, wouldn’t you agree?”
“Ambrogio, can I speak with you for a minute?” Adele asked.
She needed to stomp out the crackling embers of a battle between the two head-strong men. They had stepped out of eavesdropping distance, but all eyes focused on them.
“You cannot threaten people to get what you want. Stop this pissing contest with Yanice so we can start looking for your grandmother.”
“I’m scared.” Ambrogio ran his hand through his windswept hair. His icy demeanor melted when magnified under the heat of his despair.
“We’ll find her.” Adele tried to reassure Ambrogio and herself.
“I want to help you find her,” Marissa said.
While Adele and Ambrogio had their side bar, Marissa had been engulfed in Yanice’s arms.
“You need to stay here in case she returns,” Yanice said.
Marissa nodded her agreement into his neck. Roles settled, the trio ventured out on their scavenger hunt.
Like dogs released in the world sniffing the ground in search of foxes, the tourists spilled onto Pointe Seraphine looking for a good deal. Yanice and Ambrogio powered through the crowd using their arms as machetes, chopping overzealous tourists down with each mighty swing.
The hierarchy of the shops was apparent, high-end establishments sat at the mouth of the port. These stores swallowed passengers as they disembarked from gig
antic cruise ships.
These buildings boasted fluorescent colors and elaborate storefronts. Some had benches, while other’s had catchers posted outside to reel tourists in with their sweet bargain talk. Their eyes grazed on the varied assortment of shops without a clue as to Felicita’s whereabouts, until Ambrogio stopped, his finger plastered on the pristine glass over a lone piece of jewelry in the display case.
“Eccola!” Ambrogio said
“The necklace….do you recognize it?” Adele asked.
“It’s Felicità’s. I would recognize it anywhere.” He tripped over Adele in his haste to inquire about the necklace.
Upon closer inspection, Adele realized that the flower sitting amidst diamonds was the same flower tattooed on Ambrogio’s ankle. In the store, Ambrogio bombarded the frazzled store clerk with questions in Italian. Naturally, his native tongue was his “go to” language in moments of anger and passion, a fact Adele bore witness to a few hours ago. She felt as though it comforted him in times when he felt lost.
“I’m sorry. Where did the necklace in the window come from?” Ambrogio asked.
“We were fortunate enough to purchase the necklace this afternoon,” the clerk said. Her fair skin lit a match, sending a bright blaze of red hair aflame atop her head.
“How could you determine its value so quickly?” Ambrogio asked.
“If you’re questioning the legality of the sale, I assure you, our appraisers are the best in the world,” the clerk said.
“The legality of your so-called purchase is debatable. This establishment feels distinctly like a high-end pawn shop.” Ambrogio spotted more of his grandmother’s precious heirlooms scattered around the store.
“Sir, once in a while some exquisite pieces fall into our lap. If a customer insists on selling it, it’s our duty to provide assistance. Are you interested in purchasing the necklace?” the clerk asked.
“I’m interested in purchasing all the items brought here this afternoon.” Ambrogio said.
“Absolutely sir.” The clerk smiled. Adele could see her mentally calculating her commission.
“I’m also interested in learning about the whereabouts of the seller,” he said.
Dirty Secrets Page 6