Nobody's Girl

by Love, Michelle

  “I know. It’s just…it’s my Mom, you know? She doesn’t want anyone else to know about it, especially Dad.”

  The doctor, Roger Loomis, an old friend of the Zacca’s, nodded, sipping his coffee. It had just been coincidence that he was in Paris for a conference, when Ivo called him to ask for his advice. “Ivo, Adria is one of the strongest people I know. If she can’t beat this, well…”

  Ivo was grateful for Roger’s reassurance but could not get past the word ‘cancer.’

  His mom had called him, and for a few moments hadn’t even mentioned it, asking after Sofia and the gallery, and Clemence. His parents were delighted at becoming grandparents, even in the bizarre circumstances surrounding it. It was only when Ivo invited her to the opening of the gallery that Adria spoke up.

  “Actually, darling, I’ve got a spot of cancer which I’m being treated for at the moment. Nothing serious, just a shadow on my lung. Don’t tell your father. He has a new woman and I don’t want him ruining that just to come running back to me.”

  Ivo had been too shocked to speak for a moment. “Mom…”

  “Don’t worry, darling, it’ll be okay. They’re going to cut that figlio di puttana right out of me. There’s a surgeon in Paris who is the best in the world.”

  “Good, then I can be with you.”

  “No,” Adria’s voice rose sharply. “No, dear, please. You have the opening and Sofia and Clemence to worry about. I am fine.”

  “God, Mama.”

  “I’m okay, Piccolo, I swear. I wish I hadn’t told you now.”

  That had bugged him. Why wouldn’t his mother let him care for her? Yes, she was right he had the baby, and Sofia and his work, but did she really think he couldn’t handle her too?

  He thanked Roger and left him at the café, walking back along the river to the gallery. The renovations were complete now and the façade of the gallery, shining white stonework, looked incredible.

  Ivo walked in and listened to the silence. No more hammering and drilling. Just peace. He walked silently to the studio at the rear where he saw Sofia working on the painting of him. He leaned against the doorframe and watched her work. The tender way she stroked the paint on, the fine detailing. She stood close to the canvas, concentrating wholly on it. The effect was sensual and erotic, the way she looked at Ivo via the painting making him realize the intensity of Sofia’s feelings for him. She stood back to check her work and he padded silently into the room. He slid his arms around her waist, feeling her start slightly, then lean back into him. Neither of the spoke, just looked at the painting for a long moment.

  Ivo gently took the paintbrush from her hand, and Sofia turned in his arms, gazing up at him. Ivo bent his head to kiss her, his hands sliding under her shirt. He stripped her slowly and lifted her onto the long wooden table, laying her back so he could admire her body. He took up the paintbrush again, and dipped it into a pot of dark burgundy paint. Sofia smiled as he drew the brush from her throat to her sex, the line dipping with the curves of her body. He painted a circle around her navel and Sofia wriggled with pleasure. He used every color he could reach and painted her body, the mounds of her breasts, the soft flesh of her thighs. He stripped off his suit, his erection long and thick against his belly as he continued his work. He painted her nipples a dark ruby red, highlighted her collarbone with gold. Ivo finally dropped to his knees, pressing her legs apart and took her already hardened and excited clit into his mouth. Sofia moaned at the touch of his tongue lashing around the sensitive bud, her fingers, slick with paint, tangling in his dark curls. He brought her to the brink then stood, thrusting his huge cock into her. Sofia cried out as her legs tightened around him, his hands locked with hers. The paint made their bodies slide easily together, her breasts pressed against his chest as he slammed his cock into her. Sofia clung to him, raking her fingernails down the hard muscles of his back, her mouth hungry against his lips. So ferocious was their fucking, they tumbled off the table onto the floor and Ivo pushed her knees up to her chest so he could thrust deeper and deeper inside her.

  As she came, Sofia could barely breathe, so delirious was she from what he was doing to her, and after she felt him come, pumping thick creamy semen deep inside her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “That was incredible, Ivo Zacca.”

  He smiled down at her. “You have no idea what you mean to me, il mia amore.”

  Sofia grinned as he pulled her closer and started to nibble her neck. “That sexy Italian talk…”

  He murmured more words she couldn’t understand, but she could guess as he kissed down her body. She laughed when he looked up at her. “Your face is covered in paint – you look like a Wildman.”

  Ivo laughed. “Bella, you should see what you look like right now…possible the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

  Sofia chuckled. “Sweet talker. Come back up here and kiss me.”

  He did as she asked, then smoothed her black hair away from her face. “This weekend,” he said, “I want to take you away. Before you moan you have to work, most of the weekend will be work. We’re going to Venice. I have a friend, another art dealer who I want you to meet, Maceo Bartoli. I sent him some images of your work and he wants to talk to you about a showing there.”

  Sofia felt the panic rising inside of her. “Ivo…I’m nowhere near ready for that.”

  Ivo smiled. “You just think you’re not. Another friend, Elli Navarro want to do as mall profile – now, don’t looked so scared – it’ll be a small Q&A thing, is all.”

  Sofia chewed all this over. “Ivo…if I do that, they will find me.”

  Ivo frowned. “You can’t hide forever, my darling, and besides, wasn’t it they who wanted you away from them? Sorry, that sounded harsh, what I mean to say it, fuck them. This is your destiny, Sofia. It had nothing to do with them.” He studied her face. “Bella, there’s not anything that you haven’t told me, is there? Any threats to harm you? Did your step-father ever…”

  He couldn’t get the words out and Sofia placed her hands on his face. “No, and no. No threats, no abuse. It’s just me, not wanting them to spoil any of this.”

  “I swear,” Ivo said with feeling. “I swear I won’t let them spoil anything.”

  Chapter Eight

  Tamara sighed happily as Penn Black stood and zipped his pants. “That was incredible.” It was the third time they had met, always at the club, always on his terms, but Tamara didn’t care. She wanted to be his sub, wanted to be told how to dress for him, how to position her body for his pleasure. The truth was there was nothing Penn Black could do to her that she wouldn’t enjoy. He was a masterful, almost violent lover, pinning her back against the wall, sometimes painfully across a hard-wooden bench. Even spread eagled on the St. Andrew’s Cross, the cat ‘o’ nine tails being forcibly struck against her skin, Tamara was in heaven.

  Today, he had just wanted to fuck, though. He had taken her hand in the bar, and pulled her towards his usual room, room four, where the management had laid out exactly what he requested. Tamara had guessed that he was a high-roller, a billionaire probably, and that he either owned part of this club, or had some blackmail material on the owners themselves. She wagered it was the former, as the staff were all politely and friendly to him, despite his reserved nature.

  Tamara sat up now, tugging on his hand. “Would Master like me to suck his cock?”

  Black shook his head. “No, not today. I expect you to be here on Friday, however, midnight. I’m bringing a friend. We will enjoy fucking you at the same time.”

  Tamara moaned softly, relishing the thought. “Will Master hurt me?”

  His eyes darkened. “If you perform well, we shall see.”

  ‘Please, Master…a little punishment now?”

  For a moment, she thought he might not obliged her, then, with a swift motion, he flipped her onto her stomach, and she felt his hand crack against her tender skin. “Harder, Master!”

  Black grabbed a paddle from the shelf
and used it against her buttocks until she was sobbing with arousal. “Turn over.”

  Tamara turned onto her back, sore but exhilarated. Black switched her with a riding crop across her breasts, her belly. “Open your legs.” The crop flicked hard against her clit and Tamara came, her back arching up.

  “Please, Master…fuck me again.”

  Black put down the crop. “I don’t have time for that. Finish yourself off or get someone in to do it.”

  Tamara was outraged as he simply opened the door and left. Growling with frustration, she threw her clothes on and slipped out of the club after him.

  He got into a cab and she flagged down another, hoping to follow him back to his home. The cabs weaved in and out of the New York nighttime traffic and finally, Black’s taxi pulled up to an upscale high-rise on the Upper East Side. Tamara watched as he got out – and from the doorway of the building, a heavily pregnant woman opened the door and smiled at him.

  Penn Black’s face lit up in a way Tamara had never seen on him before, and he wrapped the pregnant woman in a bear-hug. Tamara’s jaw clenched and unclenched. He was married with a baby on the way? Wow, just wow.

  Tamara began to smile. Well, if Penn Black thought he could have it all, and use her like a piece of meat, he had another think coming. At the club, he could do what he liked, but now Tamara had a new game to play. She would make his wife’s life hell until she left Penn, and the Tamara would move in and give him what he obviously really wanted.

  Tamara, herself, and a life where he could be in complete domination of her whenever he wanted.

  Tamara began to grin. “Back to the club,” she ordered the silent taxi driver. She would go back, find Grant, get her rocks off. She pulled out her phone and called him.

  He answered, and she could hear from the background that he was fucking somebody. “Are you at the club?”

  “I am…hang on, no, keep riding me, princess, that’s it. Just getting warmed up. Where are you?”

  Tamara smiled to herself. “On my way. Did you bring what we discussed?”

  “I did. It was easier to get them in than what I thought.”

  “I paid off the security team.”

  She heard Grant give a throaty chuckle. “You sure have a lot of sway here. See you soon.”

  Tamara hung up, thinking about what he had just said. A lot of sway…but what if she had all the sway, all the power. An idea formed in her head and she laughed out loud, wondering why she had never thought of it before.

  At the club, Grant was waiting for her in their room. She walked in and smiled triumphantly. Grant was at his most magnificent when he was naked. Sure, he didn’t have the body and face of Penn Black, but his cock was long and thick, and what she liked most about him was his arrogance, and that pure lack of empathy in his eyes. He was fisting the root of his cock as she stripped. “Where do you want me tonight?”

  “Lay on the bench, I need you to finish me off. There’s another man’s cum inside me – I expect you not to mind that.”

  Grant shrugged. “Why should I care?”

  He lay back on the bench, but the nodded to the bed. On it, lay a large leather wrap case. “Have a look in there. I think you’ll enjoy what I’ve brought.”

  Tamara went to the bed and unfurled the wrap. She smiled when she saw the knives, gleaming and sharp. She picked out a mid-sized one, then went to straddle Grant’s tumescent cock. She sighed as she lowered herself onto it, the placed the steel against Grant’s chest.

  “Are these used?” She traced the tip against his skin and a tiny red line appeared. Grant didn’t even flinch.

  “No. I invested in some new ones, just for us. To use on whoever we want, or each other.”

  Tamara felt a warm glow go through her. “You like being cut?”

  Grant shrugged. “I like pain.”

  Tamara traced the tip over his heart. She loved the power that she had over him, to know she could end his life so easily. “I’ve been thinking. I might open my own club. Specialist, exclusive. We could make a fortune, but better still, we could enjoy our particular peccadillos.”

  Grant smiled. “Go on.”

  She met his gaze. “There are always plenty of people who go missing every year in this city. Most of them are never found.”

  Grant’s eyes were alive with arousal. “Those who would go willingly?”

  Tamara half-smiled. “And some who we choose. They wouldn’t be willing, but I find that even more exciting, yes?”

  “Did you have anyone in particular in mind?”

  “Not yet. We’ll see who pisses me off the most.” She stopped talking to give a little cry and came with a long groan. Grant grunted, and she felt his semen mingle with Penn Black’s inside her. She climbed off of him and went to lay on the bed. “Let’s talk some more about this, then I will let you fuck me again.”

  Grant obeyed without a word, laying down next to her. “I’m in. I’ll put up half the investment.”

  “Good. I need to talk to my father to release some of my trust fund but that shouldn’t be a problem.”

  “Daddy’s girl.” Grant’s smile faded when she saw the anger in her face. “Hey, I was kidding.”

  Tamara relented. “Fine. Now, before your dick gets limp, let’s play around. Business talk can wait for now.”

  Sofia’s eyes were wide as the car drove up to the Zacca family’s private plane. Ivo grinned at her. “I know, it’s a luxury and we should think about the planet but, just this one time, can’t a guy try and impress his girlfriend?”

  Sofia laughed. “The only thing you have to do to impress me is be you, Ivo Zacca. And be naked,” she added, laughing. Ivo pressed his lips to hers.

  “Mom flew into Paris yesterday and so she offered it to us. I thought, seeing as this is our first trip away together, it wouldn’t hurt. I’ll have a thousand trees planted to make up for it.”

  Sofia frowned. “Your mom flew into Paris…and we’re leaving?”

  Ivo hesitated before nodding. “She has some business stuff to do. I’m sure she’ll still be around when we get back. She wants to spend some time with Clemence before the baby is born.”

  Sofia’s heard thudded uncomfortably. She hadn’t called the other woman, not out of any other reason than she hadn’t had time, but she still felt a little jealous that Ivo’s mother would hang out with her boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend. Don’t be a weasel, she told herself. It’s good that everyone gets along. She had liked Adria very much the brief time they had met but she knew she still had to build an actual relationship with her.

  And this was all so new, Sofia felt as if her life was on a steep incline and she couldn’t stop the forward motion of it.

  She felt Ivo stroke her air. “You okay? Worried about the interview?”

  She nodded. “A little. The only experience I’ve had with the press is through my step-father. He was always in the society pages back home. God,” she shook her head in wonder, “I sometimes wonder how on Earth Mom and I thought we fit into that world.”

  Ivo smiled. “I know what you mean.”

  She looked at him askance. “Yeah, because having two superstar parents must have really made it hard to get used to the press attention.”

  Ivo laughed loudly. “I see your point…but in my case, I meant as an adult. As soon as I could, I got away from that world – as much as I love Mom and Dad – because I hated the intrusion, the microscopic inspection of our lives. The lies they told.” He sighed, his eyes faraway. “When I started to make my name in the art world, I avoided most of the press. I didn’t want people to think I got my success by reason of my parents. I even changed my surname for a while.”

  “You did? To what?”

  He looked at her with a straight face. “Amory.”

  For a second she fell for it, but then she mock-scowled at him. “Funny boy.”

  He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose. “No, just De Lucca. That was my grandmother’s maiden name.”

  “And she wa
sn’t famous?”

  “Not unless you count as Trani’s biggest gossipmonger.”

  Sofia grinned. “It’s a job.”

  “It’s something.” Ivo wrapped his other arm around her and pulled her close. “But you really don’t have anything to worry about. Elli is doing this as a favor to me. She’s a freelance and it’s very, very hard to get her to commit to a job now days. Magazines and editors all over the world clamor for her but she’s very picky. She does love to champion new artists though. She’s lovely, it’ll be a walk in the park.”

  Sofia felt herself relax a little. “And what about these other art friends of yours?”

  “You’ll see. I promise you will have the time of your life though. I have our days planned down to the minute.” He had a mischievous grin on his face and Sofia chuckled at the merriment in his eyes.

  “You do? Let’s hear the schedule.”

  He pretended to consult his diary. “Okay, today, so obviously travel to Venice. Check. Go to hotel. Make sweet love. Have dirty, dirty, sex. Meet Elli and her husband Indio for supper. Have drinks. Come back to hotel. Fuck each other senseless. Order room service after midnight because GF – that’s you – is like the Anti-Gremlin and needs to be fed and watered at regular intervals.”

  Sofia was giggling so hard her eyes were watering. “You are so right, but also such a bitch.”

  Ivo grinned and kissed her. “That’s just day one. Day two – morning, you go meet with Elli and do your interview, after which I take you both to lunch. Then more sex. In the evening, we go meet my friends at their gallery, dinner, dancing, and finally, we walk back to hotel and have sex in as many public places as possible – especially where we might get caught.”

  Sofia was beginning to get turned on now. “And the final day?”

  Ivo leaned in closer and nuzzled her ear before whispering in it. “Just us. Doing whatever we like. Whenever we like. Wherever we like.” He slipped his hand under her dress and trailed his fingertips up her inner thigh. Sofia moaned with pleasure, pressing her body closer to his, breathing in his clean, fresh linen and spice scent. Ivo’s fingers slipped inside her panties and stroked her sex, strumming a rhythm over her clit.