by Primula Bond
Antonio leant over me, rousing me with passionate kisses as he rubbed my clitoris. ‘Antonio, give me everything,’ I murmured. ‘I want it all.’ With two fingers inside me and my other hand working hard on my clitoris, tingles shuddered toward my feet. The bedclothes came away from my body as I writhed on the bed. ‘Oh God … I need you so badly.’
I bit my lip, stifling moans that threatened to erupt from my mouth. Faster, and beads of sweat ran from my forehead as I gained momentum, my mouth open wide and eyes clasped tight. I rolled over with my hand still between my thighs. Breathless and fulfilled, I stifled a laugh.
The glow from the streetlamp lit up the curtains and bathed the bedroom in a dark, ochre light. I lay still, listening to my deep breaths, unwilling to move. From one picture in a brochure, I had found happiness again. The scent of the flowers filled the room. One more look at his name on the card and I couldn’t help thinking that we’d both found each other. Whatever he had seen within me I couldn’t quite understand, but I couldn’t wait to see him again.
As I closed my eyes, Antonio appeared, reclined on the hotel bed, his hand circling my dark, erect nipples. I curled into a foetal ball and sighed as the post-climax sensations faded.
‘Wherever you are right now, you know I’m there with you. I can’t wait until I see you in Venice. Arrivederci.’
Chapter Eleven
I leant against the doorframe and pushed my sunglasses on top of my head. Against the white backdrop in the photography studio, a naturally sun-bronzed Italian woman reclined on a makeshift bed of red and gold cushions. Antonio was lost in his work, checking the composition through the lens. He hadn’t heard me enter the room and the young woman never moved her eyes to look at me.
As she lay on the cushions with one arm behind her head, she stared straight at the camera, her wide, chestnut eyes framed by long, raven hair. The camera clicks were the only noises in the studio. Whatever it was that Antonio could see behind the model’s eyes, only he could tell. My pulse quickened from the thrill of entering another portion of his world. Behind the camera, he became dominant, in complete control of his surroundings, and within that sphere, his quiet demeanour commanded total attention.
‘Grazie,’ he whispered. He arched backwards and stretched his arms in the air. He had me all over again. Every contour of his finely honed torso would be mine that evening.
The young woman rose from the cushions. She draped her robe over her evenly bronzed body and pulled the sash tight. Her cherry red lips opened slightly as she smiled at me.
Antonio began to pack away his equipment. With a cursory glance in my direction, he whispered, ‘Wait there.’
What else was I going to do? I’d travelled all that way to meet him again. I trembled as I caught sight of his face and that dark, ruffled hair. His white shirt contrasted with the deep umber tones of his skin. On his face, a day’s growth of stubble accentuated his cheekbones and the dimple on his chin. I could feel the dampness between my legs. I wanted him so badly and fought the urge to lock the studio door and take him right there on the makeshift bed.
The model sidestepped me and exited the studio without a word. As Antonio put away the last of his equipment, I ambled toward him. The staccato click of my heels echoed in the empty room and he stood upright, waiting for me to fall into his arms. The heady aroma of Paco Rabane made me close my eyes as our lips met.
‘I missed you, Stella,’ he said, stroking his fingers through my hair.
‘I missed you too.’ I looked up at his chestnut eyes and my heart beat fast against his chest.
‘I could not get you out of my head. I needed to be with you.’
I stopped him talking with my fingers placed upon his lips. Then we embraced in a passionate kiss, our tongues entwined until we fought for breath.
‘Let’s get out of here.’
‘I am almost finished.’
The thought of what the evening had in store for us surfaced in my mind. Watching him bend over the case, I remembered the way he’d dried himself in his hotel suite, which made the wait until our nocturnal liaison unbearable. He slung his case over his shoulder and offered his arm to me. I clung to him as if I would never let him go again.
‘There is a really nice café just around the corner. Would you like a drink? Or would you like something to eat?’
We left the studio and turned into Fondamenta Sant’Eufemia. Water lapped gently and the gondolas parked against the bank rose and fell with each undulation.
‘I’d rather go back to your apartment.’ He glanced down at me and laughed. We stopped in the street as other pedestrians manoeuvred around us. I threw my arms around his neck and he embraced my waist. He kissed me once, but his lips lingered near to mine as he said, ‘I would like that very much.’
Across the city, the sun was at its zenith and the scorching heat beat down upon us. Antonio lowered the sunglasses to shield my eyes. With another kiss, we headed for Antonio’s apartment. The heat of Naples was just a distant memory. Venice promised flames.
A Cariad Collection
Published by Accent Press
Copyright © Primula Bond 2013
Copyright © Antonia Adams 2013
Copyright © DD Byrne 2014
The right of Primula Bond, Antonia Adams and DD Byrne to be identified as the authors of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
The stories contained within this book is a work of fiction. Names and characters are the product of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be copied, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, electrostatic, magnetic tape, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the written permission of the publishers:
Accent Press Ltd, Ty Cynon House, Navigation Park, Abercynon CF45 4SN
