by Sofia Tate
A short smattering of applause salutes the part played by Allegra’s mentor, who gives everyone a nod of thanks, placing her hand over her heart.
“And as much as I know we’re going to miss her, I know this is an exciting, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for her, and I’d like us all to raise our glasses to celebrate her accomplishments and the extraordinary woman she is. To Allegra!”
A rousing cheer of “To Allegra!” rises from the guests, their glasses aloft, hailing her.
When I shift to glance at her, she is staring at me, her eyes moist, a smile across her face. Thank you, she mouths at me.
I lean in, placing a soft kiss on her lips. I break away to pick up the remote, starting the music again.
Before I can turn back to her, her father approaches me. “Mr. Berkeley, thank you for saying all of those lovely things about my daughter.”
I look him square in the eye, unwavering. “I meant every word, sir.”
“I know you did.” He pats my shoulder, giving me a grateful nod.
Suddenly, I need to see her. I scan the room, but I don’t see her anywhere. I head down the hallway, checking my office and the guest bathroom. No Allegra.
I walk into my bedroom, about to yell out her name when I hear voices in the bathroom. I step in closer, making sure my shadow can’t be seen from the doorway.
“You’re not worried anymore about Ashton?”
Luciana.
“Not after what happened at the Met. I staked my territory.”
I smile proudly.
That’s my woman.
“And not after what my dad told me.”
What’s she talking about?
“What did he say?”
Thank you, Luciana.
“When Carlo took me, apparently Davison was a total wreck.”
What the hell?
“He stayed with my father at our place. He barely slept, and he was always on the phone trying to work his contacts to find me.”
I would’ve done anything, even gone bankrupt, to find you, baby.
“And then Papa found him on my bed…”
Oh shit.
“And he was crying, feeling totally helpless.”
Damn it! Why did he have to tell her that? I guess to reassure her that I really loved her before she left so—
“Aww! Money Boy actually cried?”
My eyes pop out of my head.
What the fuck…
MONEY BOY? LUCIANA CALLS ME MONEY BOY?
Oh, fucking hell, please tell me Allegra doesn’t call me that when I’m not around.
“Lucy, not now…and yes, apparently, he cried. Just don’t tell anyone I told you that, okay?”
I can tell she’s not crazy about the nickname either.
Thank God.
“I promise. That was really sweet, you know. What he said out there.”
Silence.
I can barely hear Allegra. “Yeah, I know. He didn’t tell me he was going to do that.”
“He really loves you, Alli.”
I do.
“I really love him too, Lucy.” I hear her sigh in exasperation. “This is going to be the longest fucking month of my life.”
Mine too, baby. Mine too.
“But then you have all that mind-blowing sex to look forward to when you’re reunited.”
True.
I’m getting hard just from the thought of it, and I want Lucy to leave so I can taste and fuck my exquisite girlfriend in my bathroom.
“Speaking of which, I think we’d better go back. Davison’s probably wondering where I am.”
I smirk. Not exactly, Venus.
“Yeah, Tomas is probably thinking the same thing.”
When I hear Luciana heading out of the bathroom, I quickly slip behind the door of my walk-in closet. Once the coast is clear, I peek into the bathroom to see Allegra standing at the mirror, fixing her hair.
“You’re perfect, baby. Don’t change a damn thing.”
She smiles before she glances over at me. “Sweet-talker.”
I shut the door behind me, locking us in. I lean against the wood, taking in the view of her in her formfitting dress, her sweet, mouthwatering tits pushed together by the tight fabric, dying to be touched and tasted.
“Davison, what are you doing?” she murmurs, half-anxious, half-excited. “You have a houseful of guests and catering staff.”
“Exactly. My guests. My house. My rules. And right now, I want to fuck my girlfriend in my bathroom.”
Within seconds, her eyes turn fiery with desire as she hops up onto the counter. “Then, my love, you’d better hurry up before anyone notices we’re missing.”
Our eyes now locked on each other, I command her, “Take off your dress.”
She licks her lips, making me hard instantly. I watch as she hikes up her dress, first revealing the black garters and stockings hidden underneath, then sitting up slightly as her gorgeous breasts come into view, hidden under black lace. She drops the dress to the floor, then quickly unhooks her bra and removes her thong, both following the dress’s path. Her body now on full display, she grins at me wickedly, giving me a What are you waiting for? look.
Here I come, baby.
I slowly stride over to her, undoing my belt with each step. Once I reach her, I let my trousers drop down to my feet. She leans over to pull my stiff cock from under my boxers, stroking it gently with her hands. My head falls back as I groan from the exquisite pleasure of feeling her warm, soft skin caressing my dick.
“So good, baby. So fucking good,” I moan.
Allegra’s fingers moving over my engorged cock is pure ecstasy, and the need for her tongue in my mouth overwhelms me.
I tilt my head back up. I clamp my lips over hers, pliant under mine, her tongue hot as I suck on it. Holding on to the back of her head, I knead her left breast with my right hand. Our heavy moans are the only sounds in the room.
My hand travels down to her pussy, searching for it with my fingers. Once I find it, I thrust two fingers inside her, spreading the wetness inside her over her outer lips, making sure every inch of her is lubricated, fully prepared to be taken by my cock.
I pull my mouth away. “Ready, Venus?”
Allegra’s warm brown eyes burning with desire, she whispers to me in that lilting voice of hers, “Yes.”
I pull back from the sink, quickly removing my boxers and stepping out of my pants. I lift her up. Her luscious ass fits perfectly in my hands, as she instantly wraps her legs around my waist. I slam her against the wall, impaling her, easily sliding into her like a glove. We fit together perfectly.
Our breaths match, rapid and excited. Her ankles pull me in tighter to her, locking around my waist. Her pussy clamps onto my cock as I thrust into her.
“Look at me. I want your eyes on me when I make you scream my name,” I tell her in a rasp.
With her jaw clenched and determined, she looks at me and rasps in return, “I love you, Davison. Now fuck me hard.”
Under her command, I pound into her, our grunting growing louder with each plunge into her sweet pussy.
“You feel so fucking good, baby,” I growl.
Suddenly, she kisses me, practically bruising me with her lips, turning me on even more. I want her to come undone so she won’t be able to forget what I feel like, what I taste like, when I’m miles away from her.
With each drive, we’re closer and closer…
Her head snaps back. I can feel she’s on the verge. “Davison!” she shouts.
She’s coming, her body shuddering, her sex milking my cock like a damn vise, tighter and tighter until I groan in exquisite release as I burst inside her, my cum spilling down her legs.
I let go of her as she uncoils her legs from my body, sliding her back down the bathroom wall. She curls her hands around my head, now nestled in the crook of her shoulders. We stay mute until our breaths normalize.
“Think anyone is missing us?” she asks.
“At this point,
I really don’t care.”
I hear her sigh in bliss.
The sweetest sound ever.
I watch as she puts her dress back on, then looks at me directly in the eye. “Davison?”
“Hmm?”
“Would it be okay if we said our good-byes tonight?”
“Why? You don’t want me making a spectacle of myself on the tarmac at Teterboro tomorrow?” I tease her.
“No, it’s not you. It’s more like I’ll be a total wreck.”
I caress her cheek with my fingers. “Whatever you want, baby. And anyway, what we just did, that was a preview of coming attractions for the rest of the evening.”
“So maybe I should go out there and feign some yawning.”
I kiss her soundly on the mouth. “The way you think, woman…totally fucking turns me on.”
And it always will.
Chapter Seven
Allegra
Even though my family photos are still standing in their frames on my dresser and nightstand and my beloved promotional poster of “Pavarotti in Central Park” is hanging on its hook on the wall over my desk, my room still seems different thanks to the large black suitcase sitting on the carpet in the center. The emptiness in my room is palpable from where I’m standing in the doorway. This is going to be the longest time I’ll be away from my home and my father.
A warm hand settles on my shoulder.
“Ready, cara?” my father asks.
“I am,” I reassure him. “Just waiting for—”
At that moment, my phone chirps with a text. It’s Charles, telling me he’s waiting for me downstairs.
“He’s here.”
I grab my purse and Gotham Conservatory messenger bag, pulling my suitcase behind me. I stop by the front door to check I’ve got everything. My father hands me a plastic bag, from which I can already detect the scent of a salami-and-provolone sandwich.
“Papa, they’re going to feed me on the plane.” And knowing Davison, he’s probably overstocked it. I smile thinking of my overprotective man.
He shrugs his shoulders. “Eh, it’ll probably be all fancy food. This will remind you of home. And me.”
I embrace him tightly, my eyes moistening. “Oh, Papa, how could I possibly forget you?”
“It’s just…I’m so proud of you,” he croaks, fighting his own tears. “And your mamma would’ve been too.”
At the mention of her, I take a deep breath and try my hardest to keep myself in check. “I know. I love you, Papa.”
“Ti amo anch’io, Allegra.” He pulls back. “Now let me help you down with your suitcase.”
Outside on the sidewalk, the hot sun is beaming down on me from a perfect cloudless sky. Some of my neighbors and Papa’s employees from the shop are waiting to see me off, shouts of “buon viaggio!” echoing all along the pavement. I quickly bid them all good-bye, with more food in aluminum foil and plastic bags being shoved into my hands. Being a true gentleman, Charles takes them from me and puts them into the car, with my suitcase in the trunk of the Maybach.
Papa turns to me one last time. “You’re not sad about Davison not coming to see you off?”
“No. We said our good-byes last night. I told him I didn’t want to do that at the airport.”
Papa’s eyes turn wet again. He clears his throat to keep himself in check. “You should go, cara. Call me when you arrive.”
I start to tear up seeing how affected my father is. “I will. I promise I’ll call you every day.”
“Don’t worry about me. You have more important things to do there.”
I hug Papa tightly. “I always worry about you, Papa. Ti amo.”
“I love you too. Now go. Buon viaggio.”
He gives me two last kisses on my cheek and on the top of my head before he lets me go.
I step into the car, immediately lowering the window to give my father and our neighbors one last smile and wave.
As Charles drives up the West Side Highway heading for the George Washington Bridge, I glance over at the empty seat where Davison is usually sitting next to me. The spicy scent of his aftershave permeates the car, and my heart drops, knowing that as excited as I am for what’s about to happen to me, being away for so long from him will be the worst kind of torture.
As we cross the bridge into New Jersey, I take in the view of Manhattan in all of its glory—the magnificence of the skyscrapers towering over the prewar brownstones, the cars buzzing along the highway downtown to Battery Park City, where I imagine I can see Davison’s apartment building from where I’m sitting. The city that holds my heart never stops breathing, its pulse alive and beating.
Once we’re off the New Jersey Turnpike, Charles heads west for Teterboro Airport, which handles the majority of the private plane traffic for the Tri-State area. I watch as the security guard at the gate checks something on a clipboard, then waves us through. We stop at a small cluster of buildings, where Charles helps me with my luggage, guiding me into the terminal.
“Guess you’re an expert at this?” I ask him, the nervousness and excitement coursing through my veins.
“You would be correct, Miss Orsini,” he replies with a smile that slightly eases my nerves.
He steers me to a desk where I check in, handing over my passport to verify my identity.
“Miss Orsini, the plane is ready to go. I’ll escort you out,” the petite check-in attendant announces.
I watch as my bags are put on a trolley, heading out the door leading to the tarmac. When I turn back to Charles, he has a strange grin on his face. Even though I haven’t known him that long, I can tell something is up with him.
“What’s going on?”
He shakes his head, the grin quickly disappearing. “Nothing, ma’am. Mr. Berkeley told me the reason for your trip, and I’m very happy for you.”
“Oh, thank you, Charles. That’s very kind of you.” I take his arm, squeezing it gently to let him know how touched I am, smiling back at him. “Take care of Mr. Berkeley while I’m gone.”
“I will, Miss Orsini. Have a good flight.”
With a nod of my head, I turn and follow my escort to the tarmac where Davison’s plane is sitting. I didn’t know what to expect, but the exterior of the plane is decorated minimally with one long black stripe circling it and the only lettering on it is its call sign painted on the side.
The attendant leaves me at the steps. As I walk up, a tall blond man sporting a crew cut and wearing a black suit with a matching tie is standing at the top of the stairs inside the plane.
“Good morning, Miss Orsini. I’m Gerard, the chief steward for Mr. Berkeley’s plane. It’s a pleasure to have you aboard.”
I extend my hand to him. “Thank you. Please call me Allegra, seeing as we’re the only ones on this flight except for the pilot and copilot, I imagine.”
Gerard raises his eyebrows at me, a slight grin appearing on his face. “Of course. It’s just us, Allegra.”
Did I not get a memo or something? Something is definitely going on.
“Please have a seat. We’re just doing our final preflight checks, so we’ll be off in a few minutes. Can I get you anything?”
“I’m good for now, thanks.”
I take a few steps into the cabin, staring in awe. While the exterior of the plane may have been simple, the interior is the complete opposite. The leather seats and carpeting are in a soothing shade of cream, while the fixtures like the light switches and door handles are covered in gold. Couch pillows and a cashmere blanket in taupe cover a long sofa on one side of the cabin. Yet I don’t feel intimidated by the opulence of the space. It’s elegant yet comfortable. The entire plane signifies that someone of means and power owns it, but when you look inside, it’s calming and reassuring, just like Davison.
I sit in one of the single chairs by the window when I hear my phone ring. I almost forgot to turn it off.
When I check the caller ID, I smile.
“Hi, Harvard.”
“Hey, baby,�
�� his deep voice greets me with that rumble I love. “You on the plane?”
“Yes, and it’s gorgeous. Thank you for doing this for me.”
“Always, Venus. Did Gerard give you the tour?”
“Um, no. I think he’s busy at the moment.”
“That’s all right. Even though I’m not there, I can do this for you over the phone. Did you know there’s a bedroom in the back?”
I never sleep well on planes, so the thought of having a decent rest before I get to Milan excites me to no end. “Really?”
“Of course. Why don’t you go check it out? It’s the door on the right.”
“Umm, okay. I guess I have time.”
I look up to the front of the plane to scan for Gerard, but he’s probably disappeared into the galley. I unbuckle my seat belt, walking slowly to the back. I turn the handle on the door to the right just like Davison instructed.
The door swings open, and I scream at the sight in front of me.
“Ready to fly my friendly skies, baby?” Davison asks me, a wicked smirk on his face, his eyes alive and shining and locked on mine.
I fly into his arms, coiling my legs around his waist. Grabbing his hair in my hands, I lock my mouth over his, kissing him furiously even though it’s been less than twelve hours since I last saw him.
When I can’t breathe anymore, I pull back to look at his beautiful face. “What are you doing here?”
He can’t stop smiling. “I thought I’d go with you as far as the airport in Milan, then fly up to London for some client meetings before going back to New York.”
I stroke his face with my right hand. “What a clever man you are, Davison Berkeley.”
“What can I say? I’m the king of multitasking.”
“That’s not the only thing you’re the king of.” I grin back at him.
“Damn right, Miss Orsini.”
I unwrap my legs as he puts me back down on the floor, where I can finally take a look at him and my surroundings. He looks so hot, his dark hair all rumpled thanks to my eager hands, dressed in a white button-down shirt, the pushed-up sleeves revealing his corded forearms, worn blue jeans, and the brown driving shoes I love on him. In the bedroom, the same color palette of cream and gold decorates the walls and fixtures, save for one thing—the double bed in the middle of the room that’s covered in a black cashmere duvet.