Liberate Yourself (The Desires Unlocked Trilogy Part One) (15 page)

‘Can I buy you a drink?’ he asked formally.

This is how they would start, as if they were strangers once again. Meeting anonymously. Picking each other up.

Two glasses of prosecco later, Theo asked her if she wanted to take off her coat. Surely she was getting a little hot? She had been waiting for this moment. She spun around on her stool, and gave him a serious stare as she untied her belt and started to unbutton her coat.

‘Are you sure you want me to do this here?’ she asked him.

He looked at her in bemusement. She opened her mouth slightly, running her tongue along her bottom lip, while at the same time parting her legs, forcing her coat up her thighs so that he could see what she did or rather didn’t have on. His eyes widened in surprise, and then darkened with desire.

‘Why, Signorina Rosselli,’ he whispered, his voice an octave lower. ‘You are a shocking young woman.’

She swung off her seat and sashayed out of the bar, her coat half undone, not failing to turn a few heads in her wake. He followed her out into the foyer, and into the lift.

‘What floor?’ he asked, putting his hand over hers as she pressed the button, and bringing it to his lips.

‘Four.’

He stripped her of her coat in the lift, delighted at her audacity, kissing her hard on the mouth before wrapping the coat around her again and literally dragging her to their room. There they made intoxicating love in the very spot they landed as they fell through the door.

This was how they continued for two months. The day he moved into her apartment started well on the office desk, but gradually the spontaneity waned. And curiously it was Valentina, rather than Theo, who sobered up first. She knew it was because of that telephone conversation with her mother, when Tina had claimed that neither of them could ever relate properly to one man. It had irritated Valentina to such an extent that she was trying hard to prove her mother wrong. So when Theo left one of his envelopes for her one morning after he had gone out, she didn’t rip it open with glee as she had done before. Instead she read the contents calmly, tore up the card and instructions and rang him to tell him that now they were living together, there was no point to their secret trysts any more. They could go on a proper holiday that summer with the money they would save. She remembers the disappointment in Theo’s voice.

‘Are you sure that’s what you want?’ he asked her.

‘Yes,’ she replied emphatically. ‘It was fun, but now we are living together, it’s not appropriate.’

‘I don’t understand. Are we just roommates now? Do you not want to have sex any more?’ he said in a low, anxious voice.

‘No. I mean, of course I want to have sex with you. But . . . well . . . we are living together, and we have to be clear about things.’

She paused, and he didn’t reply, so she continued in as light a tone as she could. ‘I just think it’s important that I don’t think I own you . . . I mean, you’re free to sleep with anyone else you want to . . .’

As she listened to herself, it was as if her mother was speaking. She was certain she had heard Tina use that very line to one of her many lovers.

Theo was silent for a moment.

‘Valentina, let’s talk about this when I get home.’ His voice sounded tight, possibly angry.

She made sure she was out that evening with Antonella and Gaby, and by the time she got in, he was already in bed. Still awake and waiting for her. She didn’t let him speak, putting her hand over his mouth as she made love to him. Neither of them ever brought the subject up again, and there were no more surprise envelopes delivered. Yet when she thinks back to that night, she has a vague memory that maybe, just maybe Theo did say something to her, after they had made love. She was drifting off, curled up within his arms, inhaling the sanctity of his scent, when she might have heard him whispering to her:

‘I want what you want, Valentina.’

Did she dream it? She must have done, for he is almost as flighty as she is, disappearing on mysterious work trips and
flirting easily with other women when they are out together. He never seems to mind any attention she might be receiving herself.

Have fun
.

Maybe she should have continued to play those games with him. But she hasn’t felt much like fun the past few weeks, despite her best efforts. In fact reading those two words, innocuous as they are, makes her uncomfortable. She is due to go on her first photographic assignment in Leonardo’s club today. She wants to discuss her ideas for the shoot with Theo, and now he doesn’t even know that she will be spending the evening in the company of sadomasochists.

It is one of the negatives from Theo’s black book that has given her the idea for tonight’s scenario. The image she was able to enlarge today was of a pair of naked breasts with a see-through lace scarf bound around them, almost flattening them, although she can make out the nipples emerging through the material. She had a memory then of a chest of old clothes her mother left behind in the attic. They belonged to Valentina’s great-grandmother, and Valentina is sure she saw a similar lace scarf among them.

To her surprise, the chest isn’t locked, even though she spent ages going through her bureau looking for the key. She opens the lid and sits back on her heels in delight. How could she have forgotten about this treasure trove of costumes? A powerful scent emerges from the chest. She recognises it but
she can’t identify it. It is a pungent aroma, like blooming roses. It must have been the perfume her great-grandmother once wore. She pulls out one delicate, exquisite garment after another: silk blouses, evening gowns of chiffon, velvet jackets and skirts, and a cloche hat in felt. There is even underwear, a pearly chemise and black silk stockings, along with frilly white garters. And there is a scarf. It’s perfect. An absolute dead ringer for the one in the photograph.

Valentina dresses less severely tonight. She is nervous, no doubt about it. If only she had someone to come with her. But of course she can’t tell a soul about what she is doing. She is not sure how some of her colleagues in the fashion world would react, although she suspects most of them would think it was fantastic. She likes to keep her creative work private. She puts on a little sixties suit that belonged to her mother. The skirt is very short, but then these ladies are going to be naked, so really she has no need to feel self-conscious. As she goes down in the lift in her apartment building, she wonders if she will see the man she saw yesterday, but as she steps outside her door, all is quiet on Via De Amicis.

The club feels different when she arrives this time. It is no longer empty. There are people now in those rooms, enacting their fantasies. Leonardo is nowhere to be seen, and she is greeted by a buxom blond woman clad in corset and suspenders.

‘Oh you must be Valentina,’ she says warmly. ‘I’m Raquel.
You are very welcome.’ She has a sweet, almost childish smile that looks incongruous with her corset outfit. ‘The girls are waiting for you. They’re very excited.’

Valentina catches her breath, tries to calm her beating heart and follows Raquel down the staircase. This is her last chance to back out. Once she goes into the Atlantis Room tonight, there will be no way she can return to her old way of looking at things. But she has no intention of going home. She is here now, and she always sees things through.

Raquel stands outside the wooden door, waiting for her.

‘Ready?’

Valentina nods and walks into Atlantis.

Sitting on the daybed are two young women about the same age as her. Leonardo is right: they are both stunning. One has long curly red hair; the other short peroxide blond hair. Both girls are still dressed. The redhead is wearing a red dress to match her hair, stockings and high heels. The blonde is more casually dressed in a short blue dress with cap sleeves. Her legs are bare and she has no shoes on. They both look gorgeous. Their lips are moist and glossy, and their skin dewy in the fake sunlight streaming in from the skylight. Probably models, Valentina thinks, although she doesn’t recognise either of them.

Raquel introduces the girls before departing, leaving Valentina alone with her subjects. She has set up shots so many times in her day job, yet for a minute her mind goes blank. Finally the redhead, Rosa, speaks.

‘So what do you want us to do?’ she asks, smiling at Valentina coyly.

‘Well, I am a little new at all of this,’ Valentina explains, not catching her eye.

‘At photography?’ asks Celia, the blonde.

‘No, no, I’m a professional photographer.’ She puts her bag down on the big black desk, opens it and takes out her camera, still unable to look either girl in the face. ‘What I mean is, I don’t really know what you do . . . I’ve never been into S and M . . .’ She thinks it is best to be honest with the girls so that they don’t make assumptions.

‘For real?’ Rosa says, and Valentina catches her exchanging looks with Celia. ‘So why are you here?’

Valentina fiddles with the light meter. She feels gauche, and a little stupid.

‘I’m interested in what you do . . . I want to understand.’

‘Well the only way you will understand is by experiencing it.’ Celia gives her a penetrating look, as if she can see her naked beneath her clothes.

Valentina ignores her, and turns to Rosa. She needs to remain businesslike, otherwise she is just going to look like a fool.

‘Maybe you could start with what you were planning to do, and I have a few ideas with a prop I brought with me that we could possibly introduce at some stage. I might ask you to hold a pose, if that’s okay?’

‘Sure, no problem. Shall we start?’ Rosa asks. Celia is still
staring at Valentina, making her feel uncomfortable.

‘Yes . . . do . . .’ Valentina says, fumbling around with her camera, her heart in her mouth.

Protected by the camera, Valentina keeps her distance at first. The two women seem to go through a kind of mating ritual with each other, taking on roles. Surprisingly, Rosa appears more dominant, with Celia doing things to please her. Rosa sits on the desk, her legs apart, and Celia balances underneath her, pushing her head up beneath her dress so that she must be kissing her, although Valentina can’t see her lips. Now Celia undresses for Rosa, as the redhead reclines on the daybed, watching her. She takes off her dress and stands on her toes for Rosa, her arms raised above her head.

Celia has peeled off her dress so naturally, without any kind of artifice, that Valentina finds she is not embarrassed at all. In fact she is almost enjoying this. The women are so focused on each other’s pleasure. She sees no place for pain in this scenario.

A moment later, however, Rosa strides over to the desk and takes a chain from the bottom drawer. She binds Celia’s hands to a beam above her head. What will happen now? Rosa stands behind Celia and begins to caress her between the legs. Valentina watches the expression on Celia’s face as she responds to Rosa’s touch. It is hard not to feel turned on as she watches Rosa fondling the other woman. She can’t help wondering what a woman’s lips and tongue might feel like on her own body. Celia goes up on her toes and raises her left leg
in the air like a ballerina doing an arabesque, but to the side, and higher than ninety degrees. Rosa crouches and curls her arms around Celia’s right thigh, and licks her between the legs. Valentina watches each minute detail of expression on Celia’s face. At one moment she is the cool dancer; now the sensation of Rosa’s lips passes through her body, so that Valentina can see the tension in her raised leg and pointed toes, she can see her teetering on the edge. Rosa knows just how long to stimulate her for before she pulls back and Celia drops back down on to the soles of her feet, breathless and potent with desire. Valentina takes a close-up of her face, her blue eyes electric and her expression open and yearning for Rosa, her mistress.

Rosa releases Celia from the beam and leads her to the daybed. Celia climbs on to the bed and allows Rosa to chain her wrists to the bedstead. She lies back with her legs open, waiting. Rosa takes off her red dress and her panties, although she keeps her stockings on, just like Valentina would. She walks back to the desk, shooting Valentina a provocative look, opens the top drawer and pulls out a large toy that looks to be a sort of vibrator. Valentina doesn’t remember seeing it when she was here with Leonardo the day before.

Rosa curls up on the daybed with Celia. They kiss, and Rosa begins touching Celia again with her hands. Valentina watches her delicate fingers, the tiny half-moons of her pale nails, as she gently kneads Celia’s skin. Slowly, slowly, Rosa circles her thumbs as she presses deeper into Celia, who yields
herself completely in response to her mistress. Valentina moves closer and closer to the two women, certain that they are so lost in their ecstasy that they have forgotten she is there. She is a few inches from them now, taking a shot from behind Rosa of Celia, her eyes closed and lost in pleasure.

Rosa lies on her back now, so that the two women’s legs are spread, the soles of their feet touching. She turns on the sex toy, and Valentina can see that it has two round massaging heads. It is some kind of twin clitoral massager. Rosa expertly fits the heads into herself and Celia, and Valentina sees Celia jolt with pleasure. Sounds begin to weave around Valentina, the noise of the toy mixing with Celia’s high gasps and Rosa’s low moaning. Valentina wonders which woman will come first, or will they orgasm together? Can she catch that on film . . . or is that too much of an invasion?

To Valentina’s surprise, Rosa opens her eyes and looks at her. Her pupils are so dilated that they are pools of black desire. She switches off the toy, and Celia opens her eyes as well, as if stirring from a deep sleep. She looks at Valentina with the same expectant expression as her mistress. Valentina senses that they want her to do something with them. She pulls the lace scarf out of her pocket and approaches the two women. She takes hold of Rosa’s hot hands and pulls her towards Celia. She unchains Celia’s hands and without saying anything begins to wrap the scarf around their torsos so that they are brought together, their two pairs of breasts touching. Rosa looks up at her again, a question in her eyes, and
Valentina can feel Celia brushing the back of her bare leg with her hand. She steps back, a little unnerved, and starts snapping away, but the scarf has slipped and she has to retie it. She approaches the two girls again, and leans over, trying to tighten the lace scarf. They look like twins of passion. Young modern women bound by vintage lace. This will look so good in black and white, Valentina thinks, as she avoids looking at Rosa’s beseeching eyes.