by Tina Folsom
The pressure in his balls built, and his hand—moist from Viola’s honey—moved rapidly up and down his cock, squeezing as tightly as he knew her virgin cunt would squeeze him. His heart started beating frantically, and his breathing became ragged. But his breaths weren’t the only ones filling the room.
Viola’s breathing matched his own. Her skin glistened from the moisture that built on her forehead and neck, the tiny rivulets starting to run down her breasts. He looked at those breasts as he continued pumping his fist. When a moan escaped her, he lifted his gaze and looked at her face. The sight undid him. She was licking her lips, her pink tongue snaking out as if she wanted to taste him.
“Oh, God, Viola.” His cock jerked and, a second later, his seed shot from his cock, bursting against her belly and his own skin. Again and again, more semen released until his climax ebbed and he collapsed onto his back.
Chapter Eleven
Viola was still mesmerized after Dante had wiped his seed off both of them and pulled her against his chest. She’d never seen a man touch himself like that. And by God, she’d liked the sight. It had made her mouth water for a taste. Just like he’d tasted her. She’d never thought something like that was possible, that a man would put his mouth onto a woman the way he had.
But when he’d done it, her brain had shut down, and all her body had done was react to him. The thought of what utter bliss her body was capable of made her both rejoice and despair. Now that she knew true pleasure, how could she not despair at the fact that she was going to die soon? She gave a small sigh.
Dante’s chest moved under her hands. “Didn’t you like it?” He tucked his hand under her chin and urged her head up. There was a concerned look on his face when his gaze collided with hers. “It disgusted you when I touched myself?”
“No,” she protested instantly. Nothing could be further from the truth. But how could she tell him that it had excited her when she felt embarrassed by her own debauched feelings? “I—”
“You don’t have to spare my feelings. Next time I’ll take care of it when I’m alone.”
And deprive her of the sensual sight of his body in ecstasy? “Why would you do that?”
He gave her a surprised glare. “Men need release, just like—”
She put her finger to his lips to stop him when she realized he’d misunderstood her question. “No, why would you want to hide this from me? Don’t you like me watching you?”
His eyes changed instantly. His dark brown irises looked almost golden, but it was probably the glow from the fire that made his eyes shine in such a beautiful hue. “You liked watching me?”
Viola gave a small nod.
“Did it excite you?”
More than anything. “Yes.”
Dante lifted his head and brushed his lips against hers for a soft kiss. “I love it when you look at me. To know you watched me while I pleasured myself made me so damn horny.” He paused and inhaled sharply. “I haven’t come so hard in a long time.”
Just thinking of what he’d looked like made her feel hot all over again. Without thinking, she lowered her hand and moved it down his chest. She felt his muscles tense under her as she continued her path south. She stopped when she reached the nest of curly hair.
“Please,” Dante mumbled against her lips. “Touch me.”
Viola allowed her hand to slide down further and encountered the hard flesh she’d watched him touch earlier. And it was hard, just as hard as when he’d touched himself. Just after he’d come, his manhood had decreased in size somewhat, but now, only minutes later, it stood erect again and was as rock hard as marble.
Dante let out a ragged breath. “Viola.”
She wrapped her tiny hand around him, not quite reaching all the way around. “Why is it so hard?”
He chuckled. “Because of you.”
“What do you mean?” She propped herself up on one elbow while continuing to stroke his erection. She liked the feel of it. Despite its hardness, the surface was almost like velvet, so soft and smooth.
He flicked his finger lightly against her nose. “You’re in my bed, as naked as the day you were born, and you smell so darn enticing that no man with any kind of heartbeat could refrain from getting hard at the sight of you. Do you have any idea how difficult it is for me not to sling you under me right now and fuck you so hard you’d faint?”
Shock coursed through her, and she couldn’t help her slight flinch. She remembered the pain when he’d done that before, and she didn’t want a repeat of it.
***
Dante stared into her widened eyes and realized instantly that he’d gotten carried away. He should have never said what he’d felt. She was still scared of being penetrated again, and he’d done the absolute worst thing he could by admitting he wanted to fuck her and drive his hard cock into her to the hilt.
“Oh, damn,” he cursed. “Viola, I’m sorry. Please forget I said that.”
Only now he noticed that she’d dropped her hold on his cock. But that didn’t even matter now. He just didn’t want her to be afraid of him.
She dropped her gaze and looked away from him. “I understand. And why shouldn’t you get what you really want? You’ve been a good teacher. You’ve shown me what I wanted to know. It’s only right that I pay for it.” Her voice cracked.
“Stop.”
“No, I owe you. And I’m not one to not pay my debts.” She pulled herself out of his embrace and laid flat on her back. “Go ahead. Do what you want to do.”
Dante jumped out of bed and rushed to the fireplace, far enough away from her to resist the temptation. “No. I won’t do it.”
“But I know you want to. You said so yourself. I don’t mind.”
She didn’t mind? He ran his hand through his messy hair. “That’s just it. I won’t fuck you just because you don’t mind it. I want to fuck you because you want me inside you. Because you desire me. Not because you don’t mind.” He spat the words, trying to rid himself of the bitter taste they left in his mouth.
What the hell was wrong with him? He’d never turned down an offer like that before. And his dick was as hard as ever. Not even her lukewarm offer of sex had been able to make him deflate. Yet, here he stood naked as a babe and randy as a sailor, refusal spurting from his lips. Somebody should stake him for his stupidity.
And since he was already on the subject of his own stupidity, why on earth hadn’t he bitten her yet? He’d had plenty of opportunities to take her blood without even using any of his powers of persuasion. Yet, he’d done no such thing.
Like a docile pet, he’d cuddled her and taken care of her needs instead of taking care of his own. Was that what happened to men when women trampled their ego?
Dante balled his hands into fists, wanting to kick somebody. He felt his jaw tighten and realized to his horror that his vampire side wanted to emerge. The itch that always accompanied the lengthening of his fangs was already spreading.
Feeling panicked, he searched for his clothes. When he stalked toward his garments and snatched them off the floor, he heard Viola’s hesitant voice from the bed. “Have I done something wrong?”
He didn’t look in her direction for fear he’d feast his eyes on her body and succumb to the temptation of taking her in the most savage way he could. And then he’d be no further than before. She’d never stroke his ego and build it back up if he hurt her now.
“Sleep. I’ll be back later.”
There were still several hours in the night left. After giving his servants instructions not to let Viola leave the house, he stalked into the night to hunt. He needed blood, and the more the better. Only when his thirst for blood was stilled would he allow himself to return home. Then he would be better able to control his carnal urges. Because unleashing those on Viola and hurting her would not appease his need to be forgiven.
Forgiven? Only when the word scrambled through his mind did he realize that guilt was driving him—guilt because he’d driven her to set the pistol to her hea
d and pull the trigger.
That’s when he knew his actions and his feelings had nothing to do with his ego. It had to do with the fact that he’d saved her life—even if he’d been the one to drive her to take it.
Preserving it was his mission now.
Chapter Twelve
Viola awoke with a splitting headache. Had she been alone, she would have moaned in pain, but she found herself cradled in Dante’s arms. He was fully dressed and asleep. The fire had burned down, but the embers were still glowing, providing sufficient warmth for the room.
Not wanting to alert Dante to her condition, she did what she always did to try and make the ache go away: she breathed in and out and wished herself in a peaceful meadow. She slowed her breathing and tried to only concentrate on the picture in her mind, but this time, the picture wouldn’t come. All she could see in her mind was Dante: the way he’d touched her in the gondola, the way he’d put his mouth to her sex and licked her until she’d screamed out her pleasure. Dante, Dante, Dante. Like a chant, his name echoed in her head.
Instead of her breathing slowing down, it sped up. Instead of her body falling back into a peaceful slumber where no pain existed, she felt her skin heat and her stomach clench with need. The need to be touched. By Dante.
Her aching head was forgotten. All that existed now was his body close to hers. Viola clasped his hand and pulled it to her naked breast. The contact of skin on skin soothed her, but it wasn’t enough. She needed him to stroke her, to tease her nipples the way he’d done it before. To squeeze her breasts and make the ache go away.
When she clasped her hand over his and squeezed, thus tightening his hand over her breast, he stirred. An incoherent mumble broke from his lips, but he didn’t wake. She sighed in frustration. This wouldn’t do.
She looked at his relaxed form, his face almost soft and peaceful in his sleep. And his manhood—the hardness that she’d felt under her fingers the night before didn’t seem to be there. The bulge under the fabric seemed to be smaller. Viola cupped him with her palm and felt the heat beneath. When she squeezed gently, Dante suddenly stirred.
She raised her eyes to his face just as his eyes flew open, a startled look crossing his face. “Good morning,” she whispered.
“If you don’t remove your hand from its current position, I can’t guarantee what else will rise this morning.” He gave her a meaningful look. But instead of removing her hand, she squeezed him again. Something in his eyes told her that he hadn’t meant his words as a threat.
“What if I don’t?” she teased, suddenly much more sure of herself, because under her hand she could already feel him swell. It appeared that he hadn’t lied the night before: her presence in his bed did excite him.
“What do you want?” His voice was lower now, and she recognized the rumble in it as arousal. The same arousal that now made her cup the hard length of his manhood.
“More.”
“You want more of what we did last night?”
“Yes. But this time—” She hesitated, unsure of how to form her request.
“This time?” Dante prompted.
“I want to touch you too.”
“Viola, you’re going to kill me.”
She wasn’t going to be violent, he had to know that. “I won’t hurt you. I saw how you did it yourself. I can do—”
He exhaled. “That’s not what I meant. I know you won’t hurt me. But you’re going to make me lose all control if I let you touch me. Don’t you see? How can I show you the pleasures of the flesh when I can’t keep myself under control?”
She didn’t understand how that was any different than what he’d done to her. “But I lose control when you touch me. It’s not fair if I don’t get to do the same.”
Dante shook his head and sighed. “I guess I can’t argue with that, can I?”
“Is that a yes?”
Excitement coursed through her when he nodded. She would get to touch his beautiful body, pump his hard shaft in her palm, and make him surrender to her the same way she’d surrendered in his arms when he’d showered her with his caresses. She licked her lips in anticipation.
***
Dante looked at Viola’s parted lips and nearly felt his heart stop. She wanted to touch him, not because he’d coaxed her into it or kissed her senseless, but because ... Well, why did she? Why would she want to caress the very instrument that had caused her pain two nights ago?
But her eager hands that now opened his breeches and took his fully erect cock out of its confines were testament enough that she wanted to give him the pleasure of her touch. And he was too far gone to stop her. The moment her soft palm wrapped around him, he closed his eyes and let out a deep moan. Nothing could possibly feel better than her hands on him.
“Is it alright like this?” she asked, her voice hesitant.
“Alright?” he rasped, his throat suddenly as dry as sandpaper. “It’s perfect.” After that, he lost the ability to speak and could only grunt out his approval at her tender ministrations.
Viola had a magic touch. At least, that’s how Dante perceived it. Her hand was firm yet gentle. Strong yet soft. She pumped his shaft masterfully, exerting the right pressure and speed, varying between long and short strokes, alternately squeezing hard, then merely running her fingers up and down his shaft. He loved everything she did.
Each caress drove him further toward insanity, because that’s what this was. It was insane allowing her to pleasure him like that when he knew it would ultimately lead to one thing: him plunging his cock into her soft folds. Which wasn’t what she wanted from him. She wanted soft and gentle, stroking and sucking, kissing and licking. And he would give her that, but when she stroked his cock like this, all he could think of was how it would feel if her cunt squeezed around him like that.
“Oh, God, Viola, I’m gonna come!” he cried out the moment the pressure in his balls built. Then his body bucked against her. His seed shot in the air and spread over her hand as well as his shirt and breeches. But she didn’t let go. She continued pumping him until the last of his spasms subsided.
With the last ounce of his strength, he pulled her against his chest and pressed a kiss in her hair. “Thank you.” He pressed her hard against him, not wanting to let go of the wonderful woman in his arms. She molded to him so naturally that he barely registered where he ended and she began.
“I liked that.” Viola’s voice warmed his heart.
“Not as much as I did.” He chuckled and felt a broad smile build on his face. Who’d ever said that virgins were useless in bed? It turned out that this almost-virgin was a much better student than he was a tutor.
Chapter Thirteen
“We can’t do that,” Viola protested and blushed.
“Of course we can. They won’t even know.” For the last three days and nights, Dante had barely left the house to feed, so drawn was he to spending time with the increasingly insatiable Viola. Now that he’d introduced her to the sensations her body was capable of, she seemingly couldn’t get enough of it. It was as if she was trying to soak it all up and store it away for lean times.
The only two things he hadn’t done was truly fuck her or allow her to suck him. With the former he feared scaring her away, and if she did the latter to him he’d never be able to control his body’s reaction. Besides, there was no reason for him to think that she even wanted to suck him. However, she seemed to want to know more about sex, so he’d decided to show her what others did. Since it excited her to watch him stroke himself, maybe she would enjoy watching another couple.
“Come, I think you might enjoy this. It can be very arousing to watch someone make love.”
He noticed her cheeks darkening even further. When she tried to lower her lashes to escape his gaze, he shelved her chin on his palm and made her look at him. “I will touch you while you watch.”
Her lips parted, and her pink tongue appeared, licking herself. He recognized how her pulse was racing now. Then she nodded slowly. “But I
want to touch you too.”
Dante smiled and kissed her cute nose. “I should hope so.” He’d never been in such a good mood as long as he could remember. Somehow the chit brought out his lighter side.
A short while later, after he’d instructed her what to wear—or not to wear for that matter—he took her by the hand. On bare feet, they snuck into one of the small storage rooms to the side of his brother’s bedchamber. Years ago, Dante had discovered that the mirror over Raphael’s fireplace was translucent on the other side, allowing anyone who knew about it to spy on him. Dante had only discovered it because he’d been searching for an old book in the room. And he knew nobody else had access to it because he kept the only key.
Not that he would normally spy on his own brother. It held no interest for him, however, it would provide some titillation for Viola, and it would be in a safe environment.
When they entered the room, Dante locked the door behind them so they wouldn’t be disturbed. He noticed Viola’s look zero in on the pillows that lay on the raised wooden platform which had initially been built for storage.
Dante had made sure the area was clean and had spread sufficient pillows on it for both of them to be comfortable while watching Raphael and his wife.
When Viola opened her mouth to say something, Dante put his finger on her lips. “Shh. We have to be quiet. My brother has exceptionally good hearing.” All vampires did.
He led her up the four steps to the platform and pulled back a black curtain on the wall it was facing. The mirror behind it was a window into Raphael’s bedroom where his brother was undressing Isabella.
“Oh!” Viola gasped and turned away in embarrassment.
“They can’t see us,” Dante assured her.
Hesitantly, she turned back and looked through the glass. Dante didn’t watch the goings on in Raphael’s room. Instead, he looked at Viola. He’d told her only to wear a corset, stockings and garters, and a dressing gown over it. And the dressing gown had only been so nobody would see her half-naked as they’d walked through the corridor.