It was difficult, however, to maintain her attitude of detachment. Her body was suddenly burning with a need she neither understood nor desired. She could feel the secret place first growing moist, and then distinctly wet with that odd need. He seemed to be kissing, stroking, and caressing every inch of her body. She bit the inside of her lip to prevent a scream from escaping her when he mounted her and pushed into her tight sheath.
“Ah, cara mia,” he groaned, “how perfect you are!” Then he fucked her until his lusts exploded. Afterwards he remarked, “Your juices were copious, cara mia. Now you see how pleasurable such activity can be when you are eager for your husband.”
With each passing day, she grew to hate him more. Her mother did not come, and she learned from Agata, who had learned it from Antonio, that Orianna Pietro d’Angelo had been forbidden entry to Sebastiano Rovere’s palazzo each time she had come to see her daughter. Bianca was furious, but she knew her anger meant nothing to her husband.
He had a right to do whatever he pleased, and he knew the law well. Her rights were few.
Bianca knew she needed to please her husband in some special way so he would grant her approval to see her mother. And she knew exactly what would please him more than anything else.
He made a point of reminding her daily that she belonged to him, that it was he who controlled her fate. But the one thing he had never been able to gain from her in their six months of marriage was her cries of pleasure. Bianca knew her husband well by now. If she gave him that, he was certain to reward her, and she would ask to see her mother. It was the only thing she had with which to bargain.
That night when he called her to his bed, she went to him, her long dark hair and her body perfumed with the scent of the exotic moonflower. She dropped the pale pink silk robe she wore and slipped into his bed without protest. He was surprised, raising an eyebrow questioningly. Bianca shrugged casually. “Suddenly something is different for me, Sebastiano,” she said softly, and took the goblet of spiced wine from his hand, sipping it slowly until she felt the aphrodisiacs beginning to surge through her body.
He grinned knowingly. “You want something of me,” he said candidly.
“I do,” she admitted truthfully.
“What?” he asked her.
“If I please you tonight, you will give me whatever it is I desire,” Bianca said.
His dark eyes narrowed, but then, amused by her attempt to manipulate him, he agreed. What could she want? Jewelry? A new gown? She was a simple girl for all of her great beauty. “Very well,” he nodded. “Please me, and I will give you whatever it is you want, dolce Bianca.” Then he began to kiss her, and to his great surprise she melted into his embrace, which increased his ardor a hundredfold. He had never known her to be so willing. His hand went to her breast and she made a murmur of pleasure.
Sebastiano Rovere could hardly believe what was happening. For the past six months of their marriage, she had resisted him. He had taken her body a thousand times over, and yet he had received nothing in return but coldness. There had been times when he had felt as if she were not there at all, even after he had ceased letting Nudara join them to please her. Now she lay pliant in his arms, almost purring as he kissed and caressed her. What could she possibly want that had brought her to this point?
It took every ounce of her self-control not to shrink from his touch this night.
Bianca hated the hands that stroked her, the fingers that pinched her nipples and probed her body, her husband’s superior air of possession. He revolted her to the point where she actually had to secretly swallow back the bile that rose in her throat. Instead, she concentrated on gaining what she wanted; he had promised her anything if she pleased him. “Oh, Sebastiano!” she murmured as his mouth closed over a nipple.
This was surely how a whore must feel, Bianca thought sadly. But then she reached down to cup his balls in her little palm. How she wanted to crush the very life from them as his lips and tongue slobbered over her breasts and belly. Instead, she squeezed him gently, tenderly, teasing his sac with her fingers. Then she released him to stroke his cock, which was already burgeoning with his need for her.
He groaned. “Ahh, dolce Bianca, cara mia, I have waited for this night!” Then flinging himself over her, he drove himself into the tight, wet heat and began to piston her vigorously. “I adore you, cara! You are mine and mine alone!” He had to control himself, for he did not want to release his juices too quickly. He slowed his pace.
Chapter 4
B ianca released the iron self-control over her body that she usually employed when in her husband’s bed. She let the aphrodisiacs he had fed her take over, and shuddered as her natural desires exploded within her. She was astounded by the emotions assaulting her, and thought that if she could love this man, how wonderful that would be for her. But she didn’t love him. She hated him. But it didn’t matter how she felt. He must be satisfied with her performance tonight. He must believe that he had finally overcome her resistance.
“Oh, caro mio,” she whispered with hot breath in his ear. “Fuck me! Do not stop! What a fool I have been to resist you, my Sebastiano! Ahh yes! Yes! Yes!”
How long had he waited to master this proud beauty, and now she was begging him. He would have laughed aloud had his lust for her not been so great. For the first time, he felt her sheath contract with strong shudders about his hard cock. He groaned and forced her legs up and over her own shoulders so he might plunge deeper and deeper into her heat. She began to scream, and he howled with his victory over her. Never had he known such pleasure with a woman as he knew this night with Bianca.
She fainted as he poured himself into her womb. There would be no child from this travesty, she knew, for Agata fed her a noxious potion each morning to prevent it. She came back to herself quickly, her hands caressing him over and over again as she praised his passion. She managed to rise from his bed to bring him more spiced wine. Then she bathed him and herself because she knew he would want even more now.
“Have I pleased you, Sebastiano, mio amore?” she purred as she pulled herself next to him on the bed and began to stroke his broad chest.
“You will need to do more before I give you your way, dolce Bianca,” he growled. His head was still spinning.
Bianca giggled girlishly. “You are a magnificent lover, caro mio, and I know that once is never enough for you.” Then, giving him a quick kiss, she slid between his legs and, grasping his cock, began to suck upon it most vigorously. Madre di Dios! She had become such a whore for him tonight. She would never get the stink of him off her skin. He began to swell in her mouth, and she teased his balls, letting her fingernails run gently over them.
He moaned and his hand wrapped itself into her ebony hair. “Little sorceress,” he said accusingly. “I cannot believe you have brought me to a stand so quickly.”
“You are ready?” she inquired of him.
“I am,” he told her.
Bianca pushed herself up and onto her knees, presenting her round bottom to him.
He was quickly on her, and driving into her sheath eagerly. “Ah yes, cara mia!” he murmured into her ear. “I love how tight you are for me. That is why I ordered that your servant bathe this bit of you with alum and water each day. So you will remain tight for me, dolce Bianca. Only for me! Only me! No other man will ever fuck you.”
“Only you, caro mio Sebastiano!” she cried out to him. “Oh! Oh! It is too perfect! Do not stop! Do not!”
He couldn’t stop with her that night. He had her five times, and yet was not content. He allowed her to sleep in his bed, keeping her there for the next two days while he fucked her until finally she collapsed with his lust, even as he admitted his satisfaction. Having Bianca yield so completely was something he had not expected. If truth be known, he was beginning to become bored with her constant resistance. Only the fact that she charmed his business associates, especially the Medici, had saved her, for he had been contemplating her death. He had gained the envy of all of Florence
in marrying her, but she had proved nothing more than a great beauty until last night. But now her capitulation to his amorous nature had changed all that. He might keep her for a while longer until she bored him a final time.
He had her carried to her apartments and heard the cries of the servingwoman, who had come with her from her father’s house, when she saw her mistress’s condition.
For several days he heard nothing, and then his own servant, Guido, told him that the mistress’s servingwoman had sent word that the lady Bianca would speak with her husband. He brought a bouquet of roses from the gardens when he came to her rooms. “Cara mia,” he said in greeting, bending to kiss her lips as he handed her the flowers.
Agata took them immediately.
“Sebastiano,” Bianca said in dulcet tones, “your strength has quite exhausted me, but not so much that I would forget to ask you for my reward.” She gave him a small smile as she spoke, her hand upon his arm as he sat at her bedside.
“You were superb, cara mia, and are deserving of whatever you desire of me,” he told her in sincere tones. “What would you have? A new gown? A ring?”
“I want my mother,” she answered him simply. “I am told you have forbidden her my company since our marriage. I am certain I have been misinformed and some foolish servant has acted on his own. I ask nothing more of you than to see my mother, caro mio. It is a little boon, is it not? And far less trouble and expense than a new gown or a jewel would be.” She gave him another smile.
“When will you come to me again, dolce Bianca?” he said. “Come to my bed and give yourself as you did a few nights ago?”
“I will come whenever it pleases you,” Bianca lied. “When will you allow me to send for my mother so she may visit?”
“In a few days’ time,” he promised.
“And I shall join you tonight if it pleases you,” Bianca promised him.
“It pleases me well!” he said eagerly. “Send to your mother to come in three days’ time, cara mia. As long as you continue to please me, how can I refuse you?” He smiled his toothy smile at her. “I will leave you now to rest, for you should know my vigor is fully restored,” he said, leering at her. Then, kissing her hand, he left her.
“What have you done to him that his mood is so changed?” Agata demanded.
“I have played the whore,” Bianca said bluntly. “Now fetch my writing desk and the vellum so I may write to my mother.” She wrote the invitation, and it was, to her relief, quickly dispatched. Antonio took it himself and promised to return with an answer before the day was over.
That night, Bianca went to her husband’s bedchamber to find the slave girl, Nudara, waiting with him. “Caro mio?” Her tone was questioning.
“We must have a little variety in our passion, dolce Bianca. Now that you have accepted your duties in my bed I thought I should bring Nudara for our amusement. I will even allow you to beat her, for she is a very naughty wench, aren’t you, Nudara?” He chuckled darkly, and held out his hand to Bianca.
It had been difficult—nay, near impossible—to play his willing lover when they had been alone. Now she would have to do it with the slave girl present, and a part of his passion. She saw the girl looking at her slyly as if she knew exactly what Bianca had done, was doing. “I should like to beat her, Sebastiano,” she heard herself saying. “I do not like the way she looks at me. She is too pert for a slave.”
Sebastiano Rovere chuckled. He was very much enjoying the woman his beautiful wife was becoming. “What will you have? The strap or the dog whip?” he asked her, curious as to which she would choose.
“The dog whip,” Bianca said sweetly.
“My lord, you cannot allow this!” Nudara protested.
“How dare you question your master, girl!” Bianca snapped at her. She took the little whip her husband handed her. “Lie upon the bed with your bottom raised for me.”
“My lord!” Nudara threw herself at Sebastiano Rovere’s feet.
With a wicked smile he dragged the girl up and flung her facedown upon the bed, smacking her buttocks as he did so. “Up! Up, wench. Your mistress will now attend your punishment and I believe she is right. You are much too pert.”
She couldn’t do it. She just couldn’t do it, Bianca thought. But then she saw the avid and eager look in her husband’s eye. Joining him in his depravity would bind him closer to her, and she had not yet seen her mother. The whip descended upon the hapless Nudara’s bared flesh several times. She was careful not to break the girl’s skin, but her blows were hard enough to give pain and caused the girl to shriek loudly.
Sebastiano was practically drooling with his excitement. His cock had risen quickly with each blow, and the slave’s cries. When Bianca ceased after several blows, he moved behind the slave, grasping her hips and began to thrust into her. It was not her sheath, however, that took his cock. Unable to help herself, Bianca cried out, “What are you doing, Sebastiano?”
“There are several ways to fuck a woman, cara mia,” he told her. “We shall do this eventually together. Give yourself to me, Nudara,” he groaned as he pushed himself into her. “Give yourself!”
“Ohhh yes, master! I love it when you put yourself there!” Nudara cried out, and her pretty face was filled with dark lust. “Do it! Do it!” she begged him.
Madre di Dios! Bianca thought. What more is there to this horror?
“Tickle his balls, mistress,” Nudara called out to her. “It will increase his pleasure tenfold.”
“Take her instruction, cara mia,” her husband commanded Bianca.
I am his whore. I must obey, and pretend I am enjoying it. Her fingers began stroking the hairy, pendulous sac that hung free and ready for her touch. “Is this pleasing, caro mio?” she asked him. “Am I giving you pleasure?”
And so the depravity and lust continued throughout the night, and for the next two nights. There was nothing that Sebastiano Rovere proposed in the privacy of his bedchamber that Bianca did not comply with until she thought she would go mad. But her mother was coming! She had sent back a verbal message with Antonio that she would come, and that was all that mattered to Bianca. Her mother would know how to help her escape this hell on earth that she had been forced into. And if she could not escape, Bianca planned on taking her own life, for she did not know how much longer she could keep up this charade with her husband and his slave girl. Last night he had taken pleasure in watching the two women, instructing them to kiss, and suck, lick, and rub each other’s bodies. And when he had sated himself he told them of a man who raised miniature donkeys that were trained to mount women and service them. He was thinking of buying one.
Nudara, of course, had clapped her hands at his suggestion, asking him if had seen the size of a little donkey cock, and curious if it was big. Sebastiano Rovere had laughed knowingly, and assured her the donkey’s cock was big enough to satisfy even her greedy maw. Then he made the slave girl don a false manhood made of leather, and watched while Nudara fucked Bianca with it. Bianca disappointed her husband when she could not seem to gain any pleasure from it, but she quickly redeemed herself by saying that only his magnificent cock was capable of giving her pleasure. He had then delivered what she claimed to desire, her apparently genuine cries delighting him.
Bianca shuddered with the memory of it. She bathed, and dressed, and had Agata dress her dark hair simply. Then she sent her servingwoman to await her mother’s arrival. Her husband had gone off to the courts this morning, preparing to argue an important case. He was in an excellent mood, and fully prepared to win. She would be free of his interference. Agata returned, bringing Orianna Pietro d’Angelo with her. The two women fell into each other’s arms.
Orianna was shocked by her eldest daughter’s appearance. She was unnaturally pale. There were dark circles beneath her eyes. Her ebony hair, while beautifully dressed, looked faded, and she had lost weight. “What has happened to you, Bianca?” she cried.
At the sound of her mother’s familiar voice, Bianca bu
rst into tears. “Madre! Madre! You must take me from this house before he kills me with his excesses! I can bear no more! I have tried for my father’s sake, for my brother’s sake, but I will die if I cannot escape this man. You must help me! You must!” And she pressed herself into her mother’s arms, continuing to weep.
Orianna turned to Agata. “What has happened to my daughter?” she asked the servingwoman.
“Mistress, I do not know,” Agata said. “She will not speak on it, but I believe she is being cruelly abused by her husband when in his bed. There is a sly Moorish slave girl in the house, and Antonio has told me he brings her into the marital bedchamber. And he never comes to my young mistress’s apartment. She is always sent for to go to him.”
“Bianca,” Orianna said gently, “you must tell me everything that has happened. I cannot help you if you do not. Do you understand me?” She tilted her daughter’s tearstained face up so their eyes might meet. “Everything.”
“I am so ashamed,” Bianca whispered. “I did not know that people could do such things to each other, Madre. He has not even allowed me a priest so I might make my confession and at least relieve myself of this guilt. Oh, Madre! I do not believe you have ever known of the things he has done to me. It began on our wedding night.” And then the younger woman explained to her mother in careful detail everything that had happened in the dark bedchamber of Sebastiano Rovere.
Both Orianna and Agata listened, each with a growing degree of horror as Bianca spoke. The mother pressed her lips together to contain her cries at the evil suffered by her child. The servingwoman wept silently, wishing Bianca had confided in her so she might have informed the Pietro d’Angelos of the wicked abuse being suffered by her young mistress. After an hour had passed, Bianca finally stopped speaking.
“Fetch my daughter’s cloak,” Orianna said sharply.
Agata jumped up to quickly obey, bringing the required item and wrapping it about Bianca’s thin shoulders. Then she looked to Orianna. “Where are we going, mistress?” she asked the older woman.
Bianca Page 7
