by Sienna Mynx
Leaning in, Giovanni brushed his lips over Eve’s chubby cheek. He reached and turned off the lamplight. For a moment, he couldn’t bring himself to leave her side. She grew and became more independent each day. Just the other day, she told him no. She said the word with such force, he could do nothing but rethink his request of her. He loved it! In his life, the burden of children and a wife were never appealing to him. Now he existed for a new purpose.
Giovanni tightened his robe and strode out of the bedroom leaving the door open. He turned off several other lamps as he ventured to the wall, to turn up the dial on the floor lamps. They cast away enough of the shadows to navigate the halls to and from the rooms and kitchen. The villa was just as he requested, a slice of paradise. When he returned to the spa room, he untied the belt to his robe and shrugged it off. He eased in the bubbling waters with nothing on. Reclining against the wall, sitting on the spa bench, he closed his eyes and let the Jacuzzi’s rippling waters perform their magic over the tension, making knots of his bones. His legs floated out in the current before him. Soon, the love he’d had all day lulled him into a peaceful state.
“Sweetheart?”
His lids parted a fraction, but his vision remained unclear. Focus slowly returned. The vision before him made him doubt if he was truly awake. Shock rendered him speechless for a moment. Mira had brought him the fantasy tonight.
She’d taken a raspberry red scarf and wrapped it around her luscious curves in the sexiest way he’d ever seen. He studied her a moment to understand how she accomplished the task. It appeared that first she brought the fabric around her breasts, thick enough to cover her nipples but thin enough to reveal their heavy fullness. The scarf then went behind her back and crossed over to the front of her abdomen, where she ran both sides of the fabric down to the apex of her sex in a V, covering her pussy. She drew it back up like a G-string to barely cover the split of her perfectly shaped ass cheeks; and then around her waist, wrapping it twice before tying it in a creative bow at her belly button.
She freed her hair from the pinned up messy style she wore since their tryst on the yacht. It was brushed straight from the roots, but thick curls rested on her shoulders. Her lips were as bright red as the material she used for his present. Everything about her, including the widening of her hips, fullness of her breasts, and slight rounding of her tummy, enhanced her beauty.
“Well? What do you think?” She turned around to make sure he got the full effect.
“Bellisima!”
She approached but hesitated at the opposite side of the tub. Mira gauged the bottom to be four feet deep. Still, her heart raced at the thought of it being deeper.
“Something wrong?” Giovanni asked.
She’d told him once of her phobia of drowning, and she felt silly even questioning the safety of a Jacuzzi tub. She and Kei had been in plenty. This one was wide enough to fit a dozen or more people and the lights at the bottom made her think more of a swimming pool than a spa tub.
“Bella? Is something wrong?”
“No, sweetie.” She sucked in a deep breath and lowered to the edge. She slipped her feet, legs, and thighs into the water with caution. To her relief the surface of the water reached her breasts. She gasped twice to try to remain calm, composed, and sexy as she waded towards him. She could tell he wasn’t buying her bravado. So she walked quicker, preferring to touch the side wall for balance. It was the sexiest walk she could muster. Giovanni laughed, and Mira felt silly by the time she reached him.
“What was that about?” He continued through laughter.
“It’s deep.”
“It is not. Come here.” He drew her to him. He looked down at his present. “Is this one of your designs?”
She lifted her arms from the water, bringing some with her. She wrapped them around his neck. “Yes. You like? It’s a Giovanni original. When I start working again, I won’t be designing for the fashion savvy only. I will also have a private label. Giovanni Originals. The clothes I wear, for you.”
“Mmm,” he moaned. He reached under the water and untied his gift. The silk unraveled and drifted out from between her legs, a red stripe rippling under crystal blue waves. Mira brushed her lips across his. Her nipples tingled as they surfaced and bobbed in the water, and then brushed his chest. And when his hands eased down her spine to cup her ass, she drifted even closer. He rose. Mira winced over being held up in the current of the Jacuzzi by just his strong arms.
“Relax, I have you.”
She closed her eyes and calm moved over her. Evidently, he could feel her discomfort and decided on his own remedy. Giovanni turned with her and rose in the water, while forcing her to extend. In a matter of seconds, she was floating with his hands underneath her. Mira smiled, comfortable that he was holding her, and a bit overwhelmed by the water lapping the sides of her face and getting in her ears. He kissed her lips. “Open your eyes.”
She did. She looked up into his.
He let her drift and get used to the water before he brought her upright. She stood, running her hands back over her hair, now wet, with water trickling down her forehead.
“Was I swimming?” she kidded.
He laughed. “Almost.”
He took her hand, and together, they stepped up and out of the sunken Jacuzzi. He brought her to the long thickly- padded mat right before the window. Mira dropped to her hands and knees, crawling across. He lay over her and she greeted him with another kiss. She lifted her hand and her finger landed softly to his lips. “It’s my turn.”
Giovanni looked at her curiously but didn’t resist as she rolled him over to his back. Mira reached to the towels and plucked one. She took her time drying his chest and arms. “You know you never told me what they mean. All of these.” She swirled the towel over one tattoo and then the other. “Especially this one.” She drew the towel down his forearm, wiping at the large gothic cross with the depiction of Mary and the baby Christ inside.
“I had it done the day after I buried my mother.”
“It’s beautiful,” she said. She didn’t know her mother, other than the stories people told her. But she knew his pain. No child, no matter the age, could get over the death or abandonment of a parent. Mira rose and he reached for her. “Just a second, baby,” she said.
She went to get a few things she’d packed in her trousseau for the night. On her way back in, she passed a platter of fruit and cheese. She hooked her silk bag on her arm and picked up the tray. Giovanni lay on the mattress pad. He had his arms folded behind his head. She placed the tray next to him and set down her goodie bag. The first thing she removed was a blindfold. Catalina tried hard to find handcuffs but they couldn’t locate any in time. The blindfold was the best she could do. When she brought it close to his face, she saw a light of interest spark in his eyes at the sight of it.
“Now you’re going to be a good boy for me. Right?”
He nodded and she leaned forward to tie the blindfold and cover his eyes. He cupped her breasts in his hands as she did so. He plucked her nipples playfully. Mira giggled. “Stop distracting me.” She secured the tie to the back of his head.
“Cara mia, ti voglio bene.”
“I love you too, sweetheart,” she smiled down at him. She laid out over his long hard body. Her tongue licked at his lips, dipped in his mouth, flicked at his chin. “I have a question. I want you to answer it truthfully,” she said, parting her legs a fraction so his erection pressed nicely against her sex. “What’s your favorite?”
“Favorite what?” Giovanni asked.
“Exactly,” Mira laughed.
“I don’t understand.”
Mira smiled and eased down his chest with kisses and licks. His thighs parted and she slipped between. Now, face to face with his cock, she gave it a sweet kiss.
“Yes. This is one of my favorites,” he groaned.
“I thought so, sweetheart,” she said, and then licked the length of his cock from base to tip.
“Goddess, what yo
u do to me,” he groaned.
Mira held his cock and swallowed two inches of him. She wrapped her lips around her teeth and took him deeper into her mouth, sucking, pulling, and swallowing. It was good to him. She could hear the grunts of his torture escape him in short bursts between deep intakes of breaths. Looking up at him, while her head bobbed up and down as she swallowed then released more and more of him, she became mesmerized with how his massive muscular chest rose and fell with his staggering breathing. She could feel his penis swell in her mouth and knew he neared release. She prepared herself to take all of him but he refused her the pleasure. He sat upright and ripped off the blindfold. In a swift move he drew her off his dick, to force her to her back.
“I want you,” he said, his voice grave and desperate.
“Take me, any way you want. I’m yours,”
She turned on her hands and knees. He eased her under him, making her lie flat on the padded mat. The candles twinkled, making the marble floors and water surface glisten. He rubbed his hand over her left buttock and then the other. Mira squeezed her eyes shut when his tongue swiped between the two and licked her intimately. Giovanni tilted her ass up to him by a firm hold to her hips and eased in her pussy first with measured intensity, until she pushed back against the invasion with her knees to give him greater access. He fucked her sweetly at first, massaging her clit to make the pleasure evenly felt. He used smaller circles of his hips, keeping their connection. And it worked. She felt as if someone had poured warm honey into her pussy, his glide was so smooth and hotly satisfying. And when he changed his strokes, mercy! She nearly cried out. He withdrew. She was flipped to her back and immediately she tossed up her legs to lock her ankles around his neck. With him raised on his knees it became a very easy task. He held her hips and pumped hard and fast into her. “Take it, baby, take all of it,” he grunted. She did, refusing to give into the crushing pressure inside her pelvis to release. Her endurance spurred him on, to push her harder; further, she could see the hunger in his eyes for full dominance.
While fucking her, he looked over to her bag of treats. Mira noticed his distraction. However, there was too much intensely driven pleasure between her legs to comment. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her legs were now straight and her ankles rested on his shoulders. He slipped out and she nearly screamed in disappointment. It was when she heard him squeeze gel into his palm that she understood why. “Be mine, Bella, all mine, relax for me.”
Her legs spread wider into a V and he pulled her forward so each leg could drop over the bend of his arms. She felt the push of pressure on her anus and arched her back forcing her ass down instead of up. It was instinct and fear of the foreign act. Fabiana loved to do it. She didn’t understand why any woman would. He gently guided her back into position. Mira squeezed her eyes tightly shut, biting down so hard on her lip she feared she’d draw blood.
“Relax,” he said under a soft rasp. Her eyes opened, and she could see his chest rise and fall with deep breaths. He was trying hard to reel himself in. His face was flushed and his chest and arms seemed to bulk. He wanted this desperately. She could see it. He wanted all of her. Mira nodded and forced herself to relax.
The first plunge ripped into her. Shocked by the force she cried out, despite her vow not to. And then surprisingly, the tightness below melted. He did not proceed with aggression. Soon he was entering her, and escaping in ways that stimulated and rocked her perceptions of passion to the core. Giovanni’s head dropped back and the veins in his neck protruded. Whatever she felt, he felt tenfold. He released a strained breath and his thrusting became demanding. Mira cried out and he showed tenderness, releasing his seed deeply into her. Immediately, her body pushed him out. He dropped on her panting. She lay there, stunned by what they achieved. His staggered breaths grew shallow and he gathered his composure. Rising and lifting her. She ached badly, but he carried her to the now cooler jets of the Jacuzzi tub. The moment she submerged, she felt her body cool down. Mira drifted with him, holding her to his lap. He brought her up to his arms and kissed her. She clung to him, waiting for the ability to breathe again.
*****
Marietta slowly opened her door. She’d forgotten Lorenzo’s comment about keeping a man to watch over her, posted outside of her door. She nearly closed it when she found him there—waiting. The black silk robe she wore barely reached mid-thigh. Their eyes met. Quickly, she hurried out of her room to Lorenzo’s before the impropriety made her abandon her bravery. She didn’t bother to look back. She knew the man was staring. Fuck him. When she opened the door to Lorenzo’s room, she found darkness inside. The bitter stench of his cigar greeted her. She hated smokers. This, among other things, made her question the attraction she couldn’t deny between them. Marietta crept inside his room, expecting to find him asleep. He laid in the middle of his king size bed with his arms folded behind his head. A smile teased the right side of his mouth.
“What took you so long?” he said.
The question stopped her. The plan to slip into his bed foiled. Did he know her better than she knew herself? Hell no! The man was an arrogant jerk. A sexy, arrogant, jerk and her attraction to him was like a drug. She couldn’t get enough.
“I, ah, I came to ask a question.”
Lorenzo’s brow arched. “Really?” A smug snort of laughter escaped him, and it made her want to gut punch him. But she maintained her composure.
“Yes, really.”
“Then ask me beautiful, and then come join me.” He sat up, extending his hand.
She rolled her eyes. “You spent your birthday with me.” She crossed her arms in front of her. “I want to know why. Why don’t you celebrate your birthday?”
The smile dimmed on his lips. Finally, something real broke the wall of indifference that was his force field. She expected him to reject her, and her request for truth and honesty. She was prepared for him to talk her out of this stupid attraction they shared so she could keep it strictly business between them. He was as predictable as he was dangerous, she supposed.
She was wrong.
Lorenzo held her gaze for a moment, then spoke. “I used to love my birthday as a kid. It was the last day of the year. That’s a huge day in my culture. Big parties, so much celebrating, all of it made me feel special. Different. My mother constantly reminded me that I wasn’t. I was her son, and cursed to be second in life to anything I ever wanted. And then it all changed when I was about sixteen.”
“What happened?” Marietta pressed.
“My mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. She was quite bitter about it. Wait. No. She was pissed about it. Isabella Battaglia was a bitter woman, pissed about many things.”
“Isabella?”
“I told you, sweetheart, it’s a common name. My mother’s name.” He waved off the connection but Marietta wasn’t quite convinced they should dismiss it. A woman with the name of his mother was after them both? She half-listened, more confused than before.
“When the doctors told her that she would lose her breasts, she refused to believe it. Refused the operation. Refused the treatment. Went to the church for a healing. Shook her fist at God and dared him to try to come for her. And the sickness progressed rapidly. Then fear for Isabella settled in. And to have her afraid wasn’t very pleasant for me.”
“It must have been hard on you?” Marietta asked.
Lorenzo chuckled. “Not in the way you think. My mother, dear sweet ma-ma, took her life on my birthday. I found her. She said in her note she didn’t want to see a new year with her illness, but I knew differently. She didn’t want me to have a new year without remembering her suffering. No more birthdays.”
“What? Are you serious?”
“Very. She was a complicated woman. She wanted to be sure she remained remembered by me. Always.”
“I’m sorry.”
He stared at her with such a cold resolve she didn’t see the man she’d been battling with, but the boy of sixteen.
“That’s awful, Lorenzo.
I’m so sorry.”
“I’m really hurting about it. Come over and make it better.” He teased.
“Don’t do that. Don’t make jokes. What you said, well it’s serious.”
“It’s life. I decided not to dwell on it years ago. My family thinks it matters. I don’t give a shit. It’s why I don’t celebrate the day. I was happy you gave me a reason to. Usually takes several bottles of vino to do so.”
Marietta smiled. “Well we were kind of busy, hard for you to focus, huh?”
He lifted his hand again for her to accept. Marietta began to untie her robe. She stood in his moonlit room, letting the robe slip off her shoulders and down her arms. The negligee was black, crotchless, and something she sometimes wore under her dresses when she wanted to be rebellious or naughty. It served a better purpose tonight. He seemed pleased at what she’d chosen. She approached the bed and he drew back the sheet.
She climbed over and next to him. He rolled her underneath him. “Going forward, no more bullshit. You follow my lead. Agreed?”
Marietta reached to kiss him.
“Say it. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” she said softly.
He moved between her thighs. He would remain there until her back blew out, or his, for the remainder of the night.
Chapter Eight
La Dolce Vita – The Good Life
Morning wasn’t supposed to arrive so soon. Mira opened her eyes, and light, sounds, and shapes came into focus. The sweet melody of her baby’s happiness drew her attention to the right. Eve sat on her father’s chest. She dropped forward on her chubby hands and repeated a word he taught her in Italian. They were so adorable, she wished she had brought in the camera she packed in her trousseau to capture the moment. Fatigue had such a hold on her, she couldn’t summon the strength to speak. Giovanni, however, noticed she was awake first. “Morning, Mommy.”
Eve immediately went for her. Mira was unprepared for her daughter’s lunge and was crushed by Eve’s belly flop on her head. Smiling, she eased up on the pillows and gave her toddler a morning hug. Last night, at some point, they made it to bed. And as he promised, she was sleeping the minute her head touched the pillow, wiped out. “We have breakfast.” His gaze lifted to the ceiling, indicating it waited for them on the third floor. “Are you hungry?”
