by Brook Wilder
Out beyond the noisy cresting waves, the setting sun painted the sky orange and red with splashes of pink and purple. The stunning mosaic of color on the clouds reflected beautifully on the wild water. It was almost as if the whole world was on fire with vibrancy and life.
The yacht, which had been cruising along fairly quickly, gradually slowed and stopped, bobbing gently on the ocean’s surface. A few moments later, Vittorio loped up the stairs from where he’d been piloting the fantastic vessel.
“Pretty view, isn’t it?” Vittorio said. He held two long stemmed glasses and the neck of a fat green bottle between the fingers of his broad hand.
“Beautiful,” Sharon agreed, nodding. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
There was a loud pop as Vittorio forced the stubborn cork out the neck of the bottle. A delicate trail of mist crept out of the mouth. He carefully poured champagne, watching as the bubbles amassed into a thick foam which threatened to spill over the top of the glasses. He passed one glass to Sharon, who accepted it graciously.
Sharon sipped the sweet, smooth wine. The bubbles tickled her tongue and throat. She felt so spoiled. A date on a yacht wasn’t something she’d ever expected for herself. She’d fantasized about it, of course, but never believed for one moment it would ever become a reality.
The pair watched in awed silence as the sun slipped beneath the horizon, leaving them alone beneath a vast expanse of dark sky dotted with stars. Sharon craned her neck to take them all in. The view of the stars was great in rural Kansas and Sharon had been missing the little twinkles in New York. The constant saturation of fluorescent and neon light rendered the stars almost invisible in the city. But out here, on the water, she could see the cosmic swirl of the Milky Way as she had never seen before.
“Wow,” she breathed admiringly.
“Yeah,” Vittorio agreed.
Sharon looked over at him. The perfectly cut lines of his face were bathed in bluish starlight. His dark eyes were turned up, shining in contentment and wonder. When he looked down and noticed Sharon’s gaze, he scooted closer so that his denim-clad thigh pressed against hers. He put a hand under her chin, tilting her face and planting a tender kiss on her lips. Sharon kissed him back, a twitter of excitement brewing in her chest. Being out here, away from the entire world, with Vittorio, was beyond romantic.
“Would you like me to show you around the boat?” Vittorio asked her, in that low, seductive voice that Sharon would follow anywhere.
“Sure.” Sharon stood, careful not to spill her champagne.
Vittorio rose as well, leading her from the top deck to the cabin. Two plush, taupe leather chairs faced the complicated-looking series of buttons and dials that Vittorio had used to pilot their ship out into the water. Everything in the cabin shone. A small granite countertop ran along the back, hosting a single white orchid that accented the room with its beauty and sweet scent.
Sharon followed Vittorio down another flight of narrow steps to the luxury lower deck. In a compact little living room of sorts, sleek white couches adorned with fat purple throw-pillows surrounded a coffee table made of repurposed driftwood. The room opened on one side to a deck. Sharon could see the dark water lapping at the edge of the deck in the fading light.
“This is nice,” Sharon said. She had thought the penthouse was fancy, but the level of affluence of the yacht was almost too much.
“Thanks,” Vittorio smiled. He was clearly proud of his fancy boat, as he deserved to be.
Sharon noticed a subtle frame that hung further back on the wall. The black frame held a beautiful calligraphy print that Sharon couldn’t quite read. She maneuvered around the coffee table and between the couches to get a closer look. She peered at the ornate script, which upon closer inspection read: “Vittorio & Lara: 6-21-2015”
There’s that name again, Sharon thought, immediately tensing up. Lara had been a persistent nag in the back of Sharon’s head and now here she was again. That date was just under three years ago.
Sharon suddenly swallowed hard. Was Vittorio married?
Vittorio realized what Sharon had seen and winced. “Don’t worry about that,” he told her.
“You, uh,” Sharon started, “you said her name the other night. When you spent the night that first time.”
“Oh,” Vittorio said, clearly surprised.
“Was she your wife?” Sharon asked, sickening jealousy seeping into her voice.
“No,” Vittorio assured her. “I don’t have a wife. Probably never will.”
Sharon didn’t like the creeping sensation of disappointment that lingered in her gut when he said that. Obviously, she had never expected him to marry her, but she hadn’t realized that a tiny bud of hope that he might had begun to blossom.
“So, what’s the date?” Sharon inquired.
“You’re really nosy,” Vittorio told her.
Sharon shrugged. She crossed her arms over her chest and stared Vittorio down until he sighed.
“That’s the date we were supposed to be married,” Vittorio confessed. “Happy?”
She wasn’t happy, she was shocked. “What happened? Why didn’t you get married?” Sharon asked suspiciously.
Vittorio shook his head, his jaw hardening in annoyance. “Why do you care?” he demanded, his irritation palpable.
“Because,” Sharon admitted, “I want to… I want to get to know you better.”
Her voice was so sweet and sincere, she could feel Vittorio’s anger start to dissolve. He looked at her with his dark eyes. Sharon could see pain behind them.
Vittorio took a deep breath, then said, “She died.”
Chapter 6
Sharon
The two words hung heavy in the air between them. Sharon’s empathetic heart broke for him. She could see the reluctance he’d fought through to let his guard down this way, and all for her sake.
“I’m sorry,” she said sincerely.
“She was killed, actually,” Vittorio continued.
Sharon inhaled sharply. Death was one thing, but murder was wholly another. Why had she been killed? she wondered, her mind suddenly racing. Was it… was it because of Vittorio?
Sharon was suddenly frightened. Here she was, with this admittedly dangerous man whose would-be wife had been murdered. Sharon always felt safe in Vittorio’s arms, but his admission was a definite wake-up call. She couldn’t help but wonder if she was in danger too.
Vittorio shook his head, squinting his eyes as he seemed to try to shake away whatever thoughts had invaded his mind. Suddenly, he snapped his head up, an angry gaze fixed on Sharon.
“Get on your knees.” Vittorio had snapped into his authoritarian, dominant mode.
Sharon hesitated for just a moment, trying to process her combination of mild fear and arousal. Vittorio may be dangerous, but he was also definitely sexy. She was reluctant to admit, even to herself, just how aroused it made her when he affected his take-charge demeanor. Slowly, she dropped to one knee, then to the other, as she knelt on the plush rug on the floor.
“No,” Vittorio said. “Not here.”
Sharon felt his hand wrap around her fine blonde ponytail as he jerked her to her feet and forced her on unsteady legs down a short narrow gangway to the boat’s bedroom. He pulled her back down, hunching his incredibly tall frame over her as he brought her back down to her knees. His heavy pulling made her scalp ache and the wooden floor of the bedroom was hard on her kneecaps.
Vittorio flipped his free hand, so that his palm faced her, and pressed it against her mouth, effectively silencing her frantic panting. “You forgot again, didn’t you?” he growled at her. “You forgot you’re not here to get to know me. You want to use that pretty little mouth so bad, I’ll show you how to use it.”
He dropped his firm hold on her head and brought his hands to the modest neck of her striped shirt. He gripped it hard and tore it into two pieces with a loud ripping sound. He forced his hand into the cup of her lacy white bra and fondled her heavy breast. Sharo
n exhaled a ragged, excitable breath.
“Yeah,” he teased her as he rolled her peaking nipple between his callused fingers. “This is what you’re here for. This is what you like, isn’t it?”
Sharon kept her gaze below his and nodded silently, a warm sensation blooming within her breast and between her legs.
He released her breast and grabbed her jaw, squeezed it hard and forced her to look up into his dark, angry eyes.
“Isn’t it?” he yelled, tiny flecks of spit flying from his mouth.
“Yes,” Sharon gasped. Her aqua eyes met his almost-black ones with a desperation that matched his intensity. She wanted him to stop but needed him not to. The way he taunted her, teased her, seduced her… it was never fair. The warring emotions and sensations in her body were overwhelming.
Vittorio put his hand over Sharon’s throat, her head bumping hard against the wall as he pinned her back. She leaned back almost uncomfortably far, her hips jutting out in front of her. Vittorio maintained eye contact with her as he walked a hand down her stomach to the lip of her chinos. He reached under the waistband, where his greedy fingers found her tingling sex. Sharon whimpered as he roughly brushed past her clit and forced his middle finger inside her.
“This,” he said, as he hooked and curled his finger inside her. Sharon was sure he could feel how wet she was already. “This is what I want you for.”
Sharon’s legs began to shake. Vittorio stifled her throaty moan with a kiss, forcing his mouth against hers. Between the feel of his lips against hers, his hand at her throat and his finger exploring her most private area, she felt overstimulated and heady. This man was too much for her.
Vittorio broke the kiss and released her. Sharon leaned forward, anxious to catch her breath. She looked up at him while he undid his pants. He dropped them to the ground in front of her, freeing his rigid erection. It never ceased to amaze Sharon how thick his cock was. She had never seen anything like it.
Sharon opened her mouth, eager to suck his length and make him groan, but he forced his finger into her mouth instead.
“Suck,” he commanded.
Sharon did as she was told, hollowing out her cheeks around his long finger and sucking it clean of her own salty juices.
“Good girl,” he chided her. “Now you’re using that slutty little mouth correctly.”
Something about the taste of her own arousal and the dark look of appreciation on Vittorio’s face lit a spark in Sharon. She looked right up at Vittorio, letting her light eyes go wide and innocent while she sucked hard on his finger. Vittorio’s lip twitched with appreciation and need. He yanked his finger out of her mouth and wrapped his broad hand around the base of his cock. He slid his hard member into her eagerly awaiting mouth, pushing the hard round head almost all the way into her throat. The force of his thrust knocked her head back against the wall and Vittorio kept her pinned there as he slid himself in and out.
Vittorio threaded his fingers into her hair, his cock as deep in Sharon’s throat as she could take it and held her there. Sharon felt tears running down both of her cheeks and she struggled to breath around his massive dick. Saliva poured down her chin as he choked her with his cock, before Vittoriohe finally released her. He wet two of his fingers with the runny spit on her chin while she coughed and heaved for breath, then reached under her pants again to finger fuck her tight little slit. Sharon gasped and sighed as he toyed with her wet cunt.
“You learning your lesson yet?” Vittorio asked as he teased her.
“Yes,” she mewled.
“What’s that little mouth for?” Vittorio demanded.
“For… for you. For pleasing you.” Sharon bleated.
“Good girl,” Vittorio said, scraping her up off the hard floor and tossing her onto the bed. “Maybe now you’ll learn to stop asking so many questions.”
Chapter 7
Sharon
Sharon bounced gently as she landed on the sheeny silver duvet. The room on the boat was much smaller than the rooms they shared at the penthouse, so Vittorio’s impressive bulk dominated the entire space as he loomed over her. He stripped himself fully, without ever taking his predatory gaze off Sharon. She watched as he strode around the bed. He pulled open the drawer on a small side table and grabbed a neatly bundled length of bright yellow rope.
“Hands out in front of you,” Vittorio commanded.
Sharon sat up on her knees, holding her forearms together out in front of her naked body. She shivered with excitement as Vittorio bound her hands together. She flexed her wrists, testing the rope and the knots, but they were secure.
“Knees together.”
She squeezed her thighs together awkwardly. It was harder than Sharon would have thought to balance without the use of her hands. Vittorio used the long tails of rope to wrap her legs together, so her hands were tied just above the knot that secured her legs. She couldn’t move much, couldn’t even really wriggle. He pushed her onto her side so that she was facing the pillows, away from him. The bed sank behind Sharon as he lowered his weight onto the soft mattress. She felt his big, strong hand on her rounded cheek as he pushed her ass up and forced Sharon further onto her side. He began fingering her again from behind and Sharon had no choice but to lay there as he massaged her insides with his skilled hands.
“Beg for it,” Vittorio demanded.
“Please!” Sharon cried out with no hesitation. “Please, please, please let me feel your cock. Give it to me Vittorio, please!”
Vittorio hummed in approval as he slid his fingers out and nudged her wanting lips with his rock-hard head. Sharon cried out hungrily as he entered her, his thick shaft delightfully stretching her cunt to its limits. He wasted no time before driving himself into, ever harder and faster, taking her pussy for everything it was worth. Sharon moaned, gasped, screamed and cried, still completely unable to move, as he claimed her body. With every one of Vittorio’s deep, throaty sounds of pleasure she felt herself coming more and more undone.
“I love it,” she cried out. “I love the way your cock feels inside me!”
“Yeah you do,” Vittorio rewarded her with a rough smack across her ass. “You love this cock. This tight little cunt is the only thing I keep you for. You know that, right?”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Sharon blubbered.
Vittorio groaned as her inner walls squeezed tighter around him. He’d become so familiar with her body that he could feel she was right on the brink of orgasm and wanted nothing more than to send her over that edge. He shifted her and rolled her onto her back. He draped her bound legs over his shoulder so that she was perfectly positioned to take all of him. He drove into her harder, her sweet face contorting in animalistic delight.
“I want you to look at me when you cum,” Vittorio ordered.
Sharon met his eyes, a mixed look of shame and wanting on her sweet face. She felt his dark eyes watching her as primal pleasure built within her. She knew she wouldn’t be able to hold off much longer and she wanted to give Vittorio what he wanted. Her fast breaths became faster. She felt her body begin to quiver, then an overwhelming wave of ecstasy shredded through her tiny body. She kept her eyes locked with Vittorio’s for as long as she could, until the raging pleasure forced her eyes shut and she screamed.
Vittorio groaned, watching her intently as his cock began to throb. He finished right behind her, filling her slit with his cumload while Sharon spasmed and moaned beneath him.
Sharon barely felt him pull out of her through the daze of her orgasm. She lay collapsed on the bed in a heap, her limbs still gently twitching. With gentle hands, Vittorio undid the knots that held her in place. He pulled the ropes off her sore thighs and down her shaking legs, then released her hands. The skin on her forearm was angry and red. Sharon tried to rub away the achiness. He smiled as he wound the rope back up and knotted it.
“Time for bed,” Vittorio told her.
The pair climbed under the covers. Vittorio pulled Sharon into his chest again. She appreciated
the caring gesture and snuggled into his warmth. He didn’t say anything to her. He almost never did whenever they slept together. But Sharon was starting to understand that, just by being this tender with her, Vittorio was saying more than he ever could have with words. His body language was louder than any caring words could ever be.
She traced a delicate finger over the complicated tattoo on his chest. The brutal lion exposed its teeth in an angry roar, its wild mane creeping up and away towards Vittorio’s shoulders. The lion fit him, Sharon thought. Fierce, masculine, regal and loyal. She traced the gleaming white of the lion’s teeth. While most of the world was used to seeing the scarier, more lion-like side of Vittorio, Sharon considered herself blessed to know him more this way: sweet, satisfied and resting.