by Sienna Mynx
“Don’t you worry, baby, I plan to take good care of you.”
Carlo groaned. His luggage dropped, and he pointed to it. The driver gathered it, and they headed out the doors. In his life, he had never experienced such heat. It was like a wall of hot air singeing the hairs in his nose, and burning away his throat and lungs. Carlo put a fist to his mouth and squinted.
“It’s Vegas, baby!” Shae chuckled. “You get used to the heat. Come on, here we are.”
The driver opened the back door to the limo and Shae went inside first. Carlo was anxious to join her. To his relief, the limo was cool and dark inside. "How do you live here? Is it hot like this all the time?"
She smiled. “Most times. But at night it cools off.”
The trunk of the car snapped shut. Shae scooted in close. “We are going to have so much fun. You are just what the doctor ordered.” She rubbed her hand across his chest.
He lifted her chin with his finger and looked down into her eyes. “Why didn’t you call me and invite me?” he asked.
“I... I dunno. I kind of wanted you to make the effort. I was the one flying to Italy to see you.”
“Is that why we fought?”
“Jeesh, Carlo, you never get it! Sometimes when you ask for things, it sounds more like a command. I told you, sweetie. I don’t like being told what to do. I’m not that kind of woman.”
“What kind of woman are you?” he asked.
“The kind that pierces her tongue,” she flicked the silver ball at him.
He chuckled.
She glanced to the driver, and then back to him. She hit a button on the side door. "Eddie, drive around the strip for an hour."
“Yes, Ms. Dennis,” he responded.
The divider between them and the driver went up. They had nothing but privacy. Shae tugged the sides of her hot pink skirt. Carlo removed his sunglasses and watched her. She pulled down the skirt from her hips. She wore a hot pink thong underneath.
“I got two piercings when I came back,” she said and pulled her blouse up over her head and tossed it aside. She wore a pink bikini bra. Carlo smiled. The impression of the piercing could be seen under the bra. It was on her left nipple.
“Why did you get it?” he asked and moistened his lips.
“My birthday, silly,” she said and straddled his lap.
“What?” He frowned.
Shae blinked at him. “Last week was my birthday.” She kissed his lips. Carlo touched her arm and pushed her back.
“You didn’t tell me. Last week when we fought it was your birthday?”
Shae stared at him.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?”
“I did. Three weeks ago, and you forgot.”
Carlo scrambled in his brain to remember. He had a half memory of them talking about birthdays and her saying the date. He said he would do something special for her. But then his drinking started again, and his depression. All he could focus on was her coming back to him. Since no one ever gave a shit about his birthday, he found it hard to remember others’.
He touched her face. Shae smiled, but her eyes glittered with her hurt and vulnerability. “You were right to call me an asshole. I am one. I should have remembered, cara.”
“You’re my asshole, and you’re here now. Carlo?” She ran her hand up his chest. “I missed you. Did you miss me?”
He chuckled when she moved her tongue and made her piercing bob up on her tongue. He reached behind her and twisted her bra until he unhooked the snaps. It dropped from her breasts. The piercing was a small pink rose colored barbell that went through her nipple. Sexy.
“Did it hurt?” he asked.
“No,” she said and kissed his neck.
"Let me kiss it," he leaned in, and she arched her back so he could kiss, then graze the tip of his tongue over it.
“I’ve missed you so much, sexy bambina,” he said and lifted his mouth to hers. She pushed him back to the seat with both hands. He closed his eyes and her lips grazed his neck. Shae had the softest lips. The softest body. She was so curvy with her large breasts, round ass, and tiny waist. Her slender hands went to his Gucci belt, and her lips found his mouth. Carlo’s chest expanded around a deep indrawn breath. There was no doubt that she felt how hard she made him while sitting on his lap this way. Hell, he could feel the wet heat of her plump pussy soaking his zipper.
“You been with anyone else?” he asked her.
"No," she cooed. "I told you I wouldn't. Only you."
“You’re mine?” he asked.
Shae smiled. The silver ball resting on her tongue sparkled when she spoke. “Like property?”
“Yes. My property.”
Shae’s brows lifted. He thought she'd be her defiant self and force him to fuck her into submission. But instead, she gave him a shy smile. "I'm yours. You're my man. Let me show you."
Her hand went inside his pants and stroked, tugged, jacked his dick. Carlo watched her do it. A small spurt of pre-cum glistened over the head of his dick. Shae had magic fingers. With steady and increasing frequency, his breathing thinned to the point of him panting. Shae let go of his cock and yanked on his pants to drag them off his hips and down his legs. She did the same with his boxers. Carlo shrugged off his blazer and tossed it aside. Shae returned to him, and he scooted to the edge of the car seat. They were jostled a bit when the driver exited off the expressway and decreased speed. He wrapped an arm around her waist to keep her secure to him. She lifted on her knees with her thighs open, and he used his free hand to hold his penis straight and up as she came down on him.
“Have you been with anyone else? Since I left?” she asked him.
It wasn’t the time to be prophetic. All he could do was feel. And the penetration into her tight, hot walls was so good. Shae felt so good. Her skin was soft like satin. And flawless, an even medium brown tone, with dark hairs on her pussy, and dark berry nipples.
“Carlo!” she smacked his face playfully to bring him back to consciousness. “Have you been with other women?”
“Huh? No,” he grunted. “Voglio scopare con te.”
“What does that mean?”
“I want to fuck you,” he said.
“Only?”
“Only,” he breathed. He swirled his hips and screwed up into her with shallow circling thrusts. He didn't reach as deep as he wanted because she too moved up and down and controlled their passion. Her hands were pressed hard against his shoulders to balance her ride. Shae kept him that way as she looked into his eyes as she rode him. A sly smile to her sultry lips surfaced, and he smiled too.
She went faster.
And faster.
His breath hissed through his clenched teeth, and his brows drew down as he looked at her bouncing brown titties and her thick nipples. Each time she came down on his cock he could feel her legs and buttocks tremble. Carlo touched both of her thighs with love, and she cried out softly in a way that almost made him release.
Shae faced forward. Staring at the man who visited her dreams so often she found it hard to get a good night’s sleep. He was brutish and unsophisticated, but after teaching him how to make love to her, he became so undeniably addictive she couldn’t get enough of him.
She closed her eyes and held on to the image in her mind of his strained face, the firm locking of his jaw, his thick dark brows drawn to a meeting point above his nose, as he resisted and fought so hard to keep control.
It excited her more.
She arched her back and gripped his knees, but kept moving. Her nipples were pointed north. Carlo noticed. She knew he’d like her piercing. He leaned forward and dragged his mouth over it. Though the piercing had healed, it was still sensitive to touch. It tickled her belly while he loved on her pussy. He must have sensed how pleasurable the licks were because he didn’t suck. He just smiled and stared at it as she grooved on top of him.
His calloused hand roamed up her flat, sweaty tummy to her other breast, and he pinched her nipple, making her break rhythm. Shae lau
ghed. Carlo then gripped her hips with both hands. He took over and slammed his pelvis up to match her down strokes, faster and faster.
"Carlo!" she cried out. The friction was too much. He went forward, and they came off the back seat. They landed on the carpeted floor. The small space between the side seat and the mini bar. Her legs were thrown over his shoulders.
“Slow down, baby,” she pleaded in discomfort and pleasure. He grunted. But like a raging bull nothing could stop his drilling her, even though he had tried. He pumped his hips. He stroked into her deep, so deep, she begged again and again for him to go slower. He pushed down, and she felt the strain in the muscles at the back of her thighs. Carlo's hair wasn't what you would call long, or short. It was thick and dark, and when fucking her, it fell forward over his brow. He kept with the swirls of his ass and thrusts that sounded off like a wet smack. He reached so deep now she wanted to scream out with joy. His face was hard, and his eyes became glittering shadows under his dark brows. But he was staring at her. Watching how she responded. And changing his moves to punish or reward her.
When he lifted on his hands to give her room while continuing to pump into her, she squeezed her breasts for him and brought them forth.
“I want to fuck those titties,” he said in his deep accented Sicilian voice.
“Come on my titties too, yes, Carlo, please.”
He groaned and slipped out of her. Her thighs went down, and his dick landed on her chest. She scooted down where there was more room between his knees, and she pushed her breasts together. Carlo’s dick glided over her skin, hot and sticky with her juices. He pumped his hips, and it jerked in between the fleshy mounds, as she continued to hold her breasts together. She arched her back to keep him locked between. He came in hot spurts, and she tilted her head back as he creamed her chest and neck, even her face.
Carlo dropped back exhausted.
“Tu sei quella che stavo aspettando,” he groaned.
“What did you say?”
“I said, you are the one I’ve been waiting for,” he panted.
Shae reached in the mini bar and got out bottles of water. She tossed him one and then located some napkins. "I'm sure I'm not the first woman you've been with in the back of a limo," she said with a chuckle. She went the napkins and began to clean herself. When Carlo didn't respond she looked over to see, he was frowning at her.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Why do you do that? Dismiss me? You know the sex is amazing between us.”
“It’s just sex,” she mumbled.
“And I’m telling you, Shae, you are the one I've been waiting for. Not because you're a good fuck. Because you make me feel something deeper than sex."
She wet her hair to get his seed out of it. She stared at him in disbelief.
“Do you not believe me?”
“No. I’m sorry, Carlo. It’s just hard to trust words. Especially when men only say them while coming on your face.”
Carlo smiled.
She smiled. “Okay. Yes. I want to believe you. Especially when you say it in Italian.”
“Come here, stop with that. Come to me." He extended his hand. She put the water bottle down and tossed the napkins. She crawled over to him. His pants and boxers were still trapped around his ankles. She straddled his lap once more. His flaccid dick was caught between them.
“In Sicily, many men consider themselves poets. Even men like me."
“A poet? You write poems?” she chuckled and rested her head on his shoulder.
“No. I remember poetry. Collect it in my head like little tokens to use on American women I want to seduce.”
Shae lifted her head. “Have you used any on me?”
“A few,” he smiled.
She smiled and kissed him.
“There’s some I’ve never used. I never had the chance. Never felt the words.”
“Say something sweet and romantic to me.”
“La mia anima é umida se no c'é il tuo sole ad asciugarla,” he said.
"Mmm, that sounds so lovely. What does it mean?" she asked and lay against him with her head resting on his shoulder.
“It means, my soul is moist if I don’t have your sun to dry it.”
Shae lifted her head. She looked into his eyes. He stared into hers. She burst into laughter. Carlo laughed too. “It’s so cheesy!”
“Cheesy?” Carlo said. “Che cosa? It reminds you of cheese?”
She laughed “I mean it sounds silly.”
Carlo nodded. “But good, eh? Makes your pussy tingle when I say the words? Eh?”
“Yeah, as long as you don’t say the translation.”
He pinched her side and she giggled.
“I’m going to love having you here!”
Chapter Two
Carlo looked out the window at what seem similar to a Roman coliseum. It was called ‘Caesar’s Palace.'
“Cos'è questo?” he asked.
“It’s a hotel and casino silly,” she responded by guessing his question based on the frown on his face. Carlo glanced at her and then to the casino. He found it interesting that he would travel so far to arrive at a place that pretended to be Roman. The driver drove around a circular driveway that was wider than any freeway in Italy. There was a vaulted ceiling above the front entrance to block the sun. And the doors themselves had Romanesque statues on either side. He glanced to his girlfriend. Shae fixed her hair. It was wet from sweat and the water she used to clean his seed off of her. But she was still beautiful to him.
“I thought I was going to stay with you. In your home?” he asked.
“I live here. I have a suite I rent. I’ve been living here for over a year.”
“Inside the casino?”
“Yes! You’ll see. It’s really nice.”
The door opened, and Carlo eased out of the limo. Shae followed, bringing his blazer with her. There were a few steps that led to the glass door entrance. People came and went. Private limos were parked closer. Cars of vacationers were to the middle to be valeted, and the taxi cabs were off to the far left.
Shae pulled his hand, and they went up the steps and then inside. The first thing he saw was a twenty-foot tall replica of Julius Caesar with a gold leaf crown upon his head. Carlo found America's take on Italian history interesting. Though Rome conquered Greece, Grecian art had a significant influence over the Romans. The hotel displayed that symmetry. There were marble statues of Imperial rulers and their families everywhere. Golden pedestals with statues over ten feet tall. Female statues in elegant draperies, holding baskets of fruit or seated with a baby in their arms. Men posed in battle with chariots and horses were carved all along the walls and into columns. Then there were the paintings mimicking Michaelangelo and other Italian artwork in the ceilings and on the walls. Carlo absorbed it all. There were even men dressed like gladiators and Roman soldiers walking around. A few stopped to take pictures with tourists.
“Isn’t it amazing?”
Carlo shrugged. It was 1994 and times were changing and cultures intermingling. Still the more he saw, the more he didn't like it. Yes, it was supposed to be a testament to the opulent lifestyle during the Roman Empire. However, a cheap imitation was never flattering. He grew up seeing the real thing, relics and shrines to a culture that stood erect before Christ. This was a hollow imitation of the home he could do without. Shae walked ahead of him, her hand leaving his. He smiled at the sexy sway of her hips and the fresh memory of their drive through the city. He didn't give a fuck about the Palace when watching Shae. He wanted to get her alone and in bed with him.
Shae flashed a card to a man who dropped a velvet rope. They entered an elevator that didn’t seem accessible to the other tourists.
“This leads to the private suites,” she said.
“Why do you live here?”
“Oh? Two years ago the hotel did some remodeling. They opened the Forum with all these fancy shops. Really nice. They also have a few private clubs, for more distinguished
guests.”
The couple entered the golden elevator with marble floors. She pressed the gold button that was a letter instead of a number of a floor, and up they went.
“I got a contract for my girls. We do the parties and a show here in the hotel, so I get a suite for us. Here. The manager, uh, he likes me.”
Carlo frowned. “Likes you?”
“Not that way silly. I made this deal before I knew you. Relax. Remember you have to behave here. No temper, no acting out, no smacking people around if they step on your shoes. Promise me?”
He winked.
The elevator stopped. Shae took his hand and walked him out. There were only six doors on this floor. Three at one end and three at the other. Shae told him a bit about her finances. Her company did well. But it would take the kind of money Don Battaglia had to be able to live for a year on a floor like this.
She unlocked the door and tossed it open. “Welcome home.”
He patted her thigh, kissed her lips, and went inside. It was just as he imagined it would be. The floors were a white marble with gold and gray tracings. The furniture was white, with golden arms and legs for the chairs. The table was marble. The sunken living room was circular, and a white leather sofa wrapped around with golden pillows. All of the light fixtures looked to be gold. Tacked to the walls like flaming torches.
"Eddie will bring up your luggage," she said. "I have three to five girls that stay here from time to time. They might stop in and out. But they know you are here, so they will make sure you’re comfortable. Look, don’t touch. That’s my rule.
“I’ll be a good boy,” he chuckled. Carlo followed her. Shae passed through open double doors. She began dropping her clothes as she went. He unbuttoned his shirt and went after her. He didn’t think physically he could rise to the occasion, but he wasn’t going to pass on an opportunity to try. When he reached the bathroom, he paused again. He liked how big the glass shower was. It looked like it could fit ten people comfortably.
She stood before the mirror braiding her hair. She was nude. The only mar to her brown skin was the tattoo of a Chinese symbol at the base of her spine. Carlo unbuckled his pants.
