An Heiress in Venice (3 page)

Alice:

I woke up Saturday morning, still dazed at the intensity of my reaction to Enzo. I’d practically thrown myself at him. I had wanted him to do sweet, depraved things to my body. There was something about him, the way he held himself, the slow ghost of a smile when he looked at me – he made my pussy ache in need and anticipation and arousal.

I wandered out into my living room, and there, pushed underneath the door, I found another envelope. My heart started pounding, and bile rose in my throat. I moved forward shakily, and slid open the contents. A photo of me from last night, taken somewhere on my walk either from or to Casanova. And scribbled on the photo was one word in red ink. ‘Slut.’

I couldn’t stay in my apartment anymore. The idea that my mysterious letter writer had been separated from me by just a thin wooden door? Every muscle in my body trembled in panic. I grabbed my purse and my keys, and I ran away, trying hard to outrun my fear.

***

Enzo:

I found her in a small café not far from her apartment. She was sitting in the sun, her eyes fixed on a newspaper in front of her. I cursed under my breath. I’d seen the article about her bakery in
La Nuova Venezia
this morning; it had included several snide comments about how the Americans were going to revolutionize baking in Venice.

“Feel like company?” I asked, walking up to her.

She looked up at me, quickly blinking away her tears. Damn it, she’d been crying at that article? I was going to kill Luigi Costa.

Her smile was tremulous. “Hi,” she said softly.

Something was the matter. Everything in her body language displayed fear. Last night, before she’d run away, she’d been luminous and alive. Today, she was a different woman, terrified and hurting. What the fuck had happened?

“What’s wrong,
gattina
?” My hand closed around hers.

She took a deep inward breath, and I could almost see her walls clicking back in place.
Damn it.
When she looked at me, she smiled a polite smile that didn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Why are you here, Enzo?” she asked. “Is it to try and convince me to be your submissive at Casanova?”

I laughed, surprised at her directness. “I am attracted to you,” I responded, matching her honesty. “It doesn’t happen very often. And if you want to sub for me at Casanova, I’d very much enjoy it.” I took a sip of the espresso the waiter had set down in front of me. “But in the meanwhile,
gattina
, if you need someone to lean on, I’m around.”

“What does that word mean,
gattina
?” she asked, her brows furrowed. “You called me that last night as well.”

I smiled. “Kitten.” So she had noticed I’d called her that last night. She reminded me of a kitten, this woman. Soft and warm, terrified, yet brave and curious. She had layers to her; layers I desperately wanted to uncover.

“I might have claws,” she retorted.

I laughed in startled surprise.
She was flirting with me.
“I would be incredibly disappointed if you didn’t, Alice,” I responded.

She raised her eyebrows. “Really?” she asked. “You don’t like your women soft and pliable and obedient?”

“In bed, maybe,” I responded. I pulled her hand into mine, and raised it to my lips, nibbling the fleshy pad on her palm and feeling the tremble run through her body. “But otherwise?” I looked into her eyes. “I like them spirited,” I said, “but above all, I like them fearless and unafraid.”

“Is it that easy then to maintain that distinction?” she challenged.

I was puzzled. This wasn’t a question that someone with some experience with dominance and submission would ask. “Alice, how much prior knowledge do you have of BDSM?”

“None,” she responded, and I cursed silently under my breath. I never played with inexperienced submissives. Ever. Damn it. “I’ve been curious about BDSM for a very long time, but my husband Ian wanted no part of it,” she clarified.

I took a deep breath, trying to push back the instinctive fear that had risen. I was old enough to know myself, to know that I was interested in Alice. And she wasn’t Maria, from so long ago.

She had noticed my hesitation, and I could see the ire flash in her eyes. She took a long drink of her tea, and set some money down on the table. “Thank you for your company, Enzo,” she said. Then, she left.

Alice:

Enzo Peron could go fuck himself. At the club last night, he hadn’t made any secret of the fact that he was interested in me, and I hadn’t concealed my attraction either. And then he found out I didn’t have any prior BDSM experience, and a mask had fallen instantly into place.

Fine. I had almost been ready to ask him if I could sub for him tonight. I’d been seconds from speaking the words and asking for a second chance.

Casanova held a hundred thousand euros of my money as a deposit. I’d paid another insane sum of money for a trial membership. I gritted my teeth and told myself I didn’t care if Enzo wasn’t interested. There were other men in Venice, and I was going back to Casanova tonight. And if this person who was relentlessly stalking me knew I was going to a BDSM club, and I ended up in the tabloids? Well, I was constantly being sneered at by the tabloids for my imagined sins. Perhaps this time, I’d at least get some enjoyment out of the experience.

Fuck it. Fuck it all.

***

Enzo:

I stood in the shadows of the room and watched her. She was laughing and chatting with Liam Callahan at the bar and though I generally liked Liam, at this moment, I was ready to punch him.

You don’t get involved with inexperienced submissives,
I reminded myself. Then Liam laughed and leaned in to whisper something in her ear, and I knew that though it didn’t make any sense at all, I had to act.

I walked over to the bar and placed my arm around her waist, drawing her into my body. “Hello again, Alice,” I said.

I could see the colour rise in her cheeks, and her eyes flashed fire at me. For an instant, I was ashamed. She had every right to expect me to leave her alone, and she was justified in being furious with me. Yet, I stayed. It was selfish of me, but I couldn’t let go.

Liam looked at Alice with a raised eyebrow, then at me. “You two know each other?” he asked with interest.

“Oh, we know each other,” Alice replied sweetly. “Will you excuse us, Liam? I’d like a private word with Enzo.”

Yup. She was furious. I braced myself.

***

Alice:

I was angry. I was also completely aroused, more turned on than I wanted to admit at the idea that Enzo had come up and put his arm around me,
claiming
me. He wanted to play games? I could play games. So, when we entered a private space, I shut the door and gave the room the most cursory of looks, to ensure we were completely alone. And then, I reached behind my back to unzip my dress, stepping out of it.

Clad in only my black lace underwear, I knelt and looked at him. “May I sub for you?”

For an instant, he looked shocked, but then he smiled at me, slow and amused. “It’s generally not a good idea to play when you are angry,
gattina
.”

“I’m not angry, Sir,” I replied, keeping my voice saccharine-sweet.

He raised his eyebrows, and moved over to the bed in the room, kicking off his shoes and leaning against the headboard. “Aren’t you? In that case, get up and come sit on my lap. Straddle me.”

Blood was roaring in my brain. I was afraid, yet so aroused. This was it. This was the culmination of more than a decade of fantasies. This man. This moment. It was a good thing he didn’t know how intense this was for me, because if he did, he’d have run far, far away.

I moved towards him, straddling his legs as he’d ordered, and I sat on his lap. This close to him, I could almost drown in the liquid chocolate brown of his eyes. This close to him, I had nowhere to hide.

“Tell me, Alice,” he said, his hands stroking my arms, up and down, till my body was screaming and begging for more. “What do you know about BDSM?”

“Some,” I replied. “I know about safe words. I know about hard limits and soft limits.”

He smiled. “Let’s start there then,” he said. “What would you like to use as safe words? You’ll need a word to slow things down, and a word to stop entirely.”

“Yellow and red?” I asked. I wasn’t about to make up some insane safe word like ‘
anaconda’
or something, and then forget it midway through.

“Good,” he said. “Limits?”

“Nothing in public,” I replied. Liam had already made me fill out a sheet for the club records, and my limits were fresh in my mind. “No blood, no other bodily fluids.”

“You know the club has cameras?” He gestured to the black sphere in the ceiling.

“Yes,” I responded. “That’s for safety, right? I meant nothing on the public stage, nothing outside the club, that kind of thing.”

He nodded with a smile. “Understood,” he said easily. “Sex is optional in a session. Would you like this just to be about bondage and submission?”

Could he not feel the heat from my pussy, feel my damp crotch? I wanted him with shocking need. I bit my lip. I’d never asked for sex so blatantly before in my life. “No,” I whispered, my cheeks flaming. “I’d like more.”

Heat filled his eyes. I could feel his erection nudge my thigh, and I shifted slightly. He shook his head. “Not yet,
gattina
,” he chided. “Stay still. Tell me, what in particular turns you on? Is it punishment? Would you like to be spanked and flogged? Would you like to be tied up? Would you like me to get you to the edge of orgasm repeatedly, but forbid you from coming? What do you want to do tonight?”

I gulped. “All of it,” I whispered. “Please.”

He growled and bent his head to my throat, kissing me before biting me at that spot. The sharp pain wound through me, and set fire to my core. I thought my body was going to explode. My heart was pounding; my nerves taut.

His hand came out and wound itself in my hair. Not painfully, just hard enough for me to feel his touch all through my entire body in a shockwave of lust.

“Since you are a beginner, Alice,” he said, “you can ask questions about anything you are concerned about.” He kissed my lips fleetingly. “Beyond that, don’t ask me what you should be doing. All you need to do is follow my directions.”

I nodded silently.  

“Stand up,” he said.

I obeyed, and his eyes blatantly feasted on my body. I blushed, but at the same time, the look in his eyes banished any real coyness. They were hot with appreciation and lust, and I felt very, very desired when I saw the way he looked at me.

I could feel my pussy dampen further at his silent scrutiny. The heat never left his expression. “You are so beautiful,
gattina,
” he said finally breaking the silence. His lips twitched, banishing his serious expression for an instant. “I’m going to spank you now.”

“Oh good,” I said promptly.

He laughed. “Oh good, Sir,” he corrected, and I bit my lip.

“Oh good, Sir,” I repeated after him. Could a single word make you feel more submissive? It did for me. When I said that word,
Sir
, a wall shattered deep inside me, and a piece of me that had stayed dormant for my entire life awoke.

His eyes darkened briefly when I said that word. He didn’t speak though; he just placed his hands on my hips, and pulled me onto his lap. “Bend forward,” he said, positioning me so I lay across his thighs, my head on the bed, my legs spread apart on the floor.

“How hard do you want to get spanked, Alice?” he asked me, almost conversationally, as his hand roamed across my ass.

“I don’t know, Sir,” I confessed, and again I felt a tingle in my body as I called him
Sir.

“No, you wouldn’t, not your first time,” he agreed. “I’d like you to keep as still as possible,” he said. I was going to voice an obedient
yes Sir
, but before I could speak, his hand came down on my ass cheeks.
Smack
.

“Ouch,” I yelped automatically. That hurt. But his hand was massaging away the ache, leaving behind only a faint heat in my ass.

“You’ll have to ask for another,” he said, and I warbled a
Yes, Sir
in response.

Smack.

I had thought that he’d take it easy on me after my yelp. I was wrong. The spank had been just as hard as the previous one. I bit my lip as his fingers rubbed the aching spot, easing away the pain.

“I’d like you keep asking for each spank, Alice,” Enzo said, his voice deep.

Ah, I understood what he was doing, and I appreciated it much more than I could articulate. He could have spanked me and I would have taken it until I gasped out my safe word, but this way, with me having to ask for each spank, he was learning my limits.

“Could I have another, Sir?” I asked him. The heat in my ass was nothing compared to the heat in my pussy. I shifted restlessly on his lap, but his hand held me firm.

“Remember, Alice,” he said. “I’d like you to stay as still as possible.”

Shit, “Sorry, Sir,” I said. I really wanted to obey Enzo. I wanted this. I wanted more.

Smack.

Surprisingly, this one hurt less than the previous two. “Sir, can I ask a question?” I asked, taking care to hold still, resisting my urge to twist my face around and look at him.

“Of course,” he said.

“Did you hit me less hard that time?”

He laughed. “No,
gattina.
Your body has just warmed up, that’s all.”

Okay. In that case, I was definitely ready for more.

I asked; he spanked. My ass was aflame, as was my pussy. Holding still was the hardest part. I wanted to writhe against Enzo’s body. I wanted to kneel and take his erect cock in my mouth. I wanted to feel his hands on my entire body.

At some point, my panties were tugged down, and the spanks rained down on my bare ass. With each stroke, I begged for more. Reality had retreated to a dim background blur. What remained in the forefront was the strokes that fell on my ass. I felt the burning in my ass and the heavy ache in my pussy, and I wanted all of this and more. I wanted the weight of his body over mine. I wanted to feel helpless as he held me down and slid into my body, and I wanted to unravel for this man, in grateful response to the storm he’d created in me.

“Please, Sir,” I begged at some point. “Please…”

“Another spank,
gattina
?” he asked me, a ragged edge in his voice.

“More,” I responded, twisting around to look into his eyes. “Everything. Please.”

In response, he just lifted me and tossed me on the bed. “Should I take off my bra?” I asked.

He frowned at me in response. “Let’s see if I can remind you of the rules, Alice,” he said sternly. “Don’t ask questions about what you should be doing. Remember?”

I’m sorry, Sir,” I said meekly, but his eyes were still narrowed.

“I think you are going to have to lose a privilege for this,
gattina
.” He rummaged in the drawer in the corner, and pulled out a black silk scarf, still in its plastic wrapping.

“Ah.” He sounded satisfied. “I’m going to tie your wrists together,” he said, “and then to the headboard.” He gave me an amused look. “The slats are rather convenient.”

I put my wrists together obediently, and lifted them above my head. “Such a good girl, Alice,” he praised me. His fingers were swift and sure with the scarf, and before I knew it, my wrists were snugly wrapped together and tied above my head. I tugged at them experimentally, testing the bindings. There was a tiny bit of give, but only a little bit. Not enough to do anything useful.

“The next offence,” he warned me, “and I’m going to blindfold you.”

“Yes Sir,” I muttered. I didn’t want to be blindfolded. I wanted to see him undress.

“Now Alice,” he said, “where were we?” His hands reached towards me and traced the outline of my bra, cupping my breasts, and I shivered in pleasure and didn’t respond to his question. I wasn’t sure if it was a rhetorical question or one I was expected to answer.

I’d made the wrong choice. His hand wrapped in my hair, and he looked at me sternly. “I really hate repeating myself.”

I should have been afraid, but his eyes were relaxed and his breathing was even. He wasn’t angry at all; this was part of the game.  “I’m sorry, Sir,” I answered. “I didn’t know what you were going to do before I asked you a question.”

He chuckled. “I was going to take your bra off,
gattina
,” he said. He reached under me to unhook my bra, taking the opportunity to kiss my lips thoroughly on the way. “You are being a very good girl,” he said again.

I blushed, half-dazed by his kiss. “Thank you Sir,” I whispered.

He pushed the bra straps down my shoulders, but because my hands were tied together, he couldn’t pull the bra off entirely. With a little tsk of impatience, he just pushed it up and out of the way till it bunched at my wrists. I giggled, and I was rewarded by a grin of pure amusement.

“I was a little premature tying you up,” he said, “but improvisation is everything.” I laughed at that, but as his hands cupped my breasts, pushing them together, I stopped laughing, and stayed still in anticipation.

He brushed a thumb across my nipple, and watched it engorge. “I like this reaction, Alice,” he said. He lowered his head, and sucked that nipple between his lips, and grazed it with his teeth. I groaned as he repeated this treatment on the other breast, and I shifted restlessly.
Damn it, he still had all his clothes on. When was he going to get naked?