An Aria in Venice: A Musical Interlude Novel (19 page)

“I
promise not to ask,” she says quickly, her eyes leaving me and fading away into
that place where she escapes to. I squeeze one of her hands, bringing her back
to me. Glancing up, she gives me a weak smile. To my relief, she doesn’t ask me
about the thing I haven’t been able to talk about for almost five years. I’m
not ready yet.

Instead,
she does something else. “When Mother, Alek, and I were running away from my
father back in Moscow, I got lost in an alley. A bad man found me. He was …
let’s just say he wasn’t very nice. But Nikolai saved me.” She swallows hard
and glances out at the canal, her face frozen in a memory I’m not sure I can
bear listening to her recall. My body tenses. I have a feeling this is going
someplace that will make me want to hurt somebody for her. “I don’t remember
everything that happened. Mother’s therapist says I don’t want to and that we
shouldn’t push it.” Turning her sad eyes toward me, she continues, “You asked
me where I go when I shut myself off from the world. Now you know. My father
was just as much responsible for what happened to me as Leona is for the way
she hurt you and your brother.” I know she’s not telling me everything, but
hell, neither am I.

I
take her hands, pulling her body close to mine, and lean back on the pillows
inside the canopy, moving the chiffon curtains together as I do so—shutting out
the world of pain and hurtful memories. “That’s enough heartache in one night.
I don’t recall seeing Jack and Rose killing each other with sad stories. Or did
I miss that scene in the movie?”

“No.
You didn’t,” she answers. We share a weak laugh before our gazes lock and the
connection I’ve been waiting to see for so long in her eyes takes hold on our
souls. I lean across to kiss her lightly on the lips, stroking her cheek with
one gentle finger. “There’s this poem my papa wrote. He used to say this one
line each morning to Mama before he left for work. ‘And how very blessed I have
been in discovering thee.’” She blushes and smiles, holding me inside her gaze,
her eyes now a rich deep blue like sapphires. She reaches out one hand to touch
my cheek, the gesture perfectly innocent, but her touch still vibrant.

“I
feel blessed, too,” she whispers, bringing her lips within a breath of my own.

After
a long blink, I smile. “Even after everything you’ve heard, you don’t think I’m
a lost soul waiting to be snatched up by those ghostly prisoners?”

“Those
ghosts better not try taking you off this boat. That is, if they know what’s
good for them.”

I
move my lips to her palm. “Lady, you are killing me with your words and that
deliciously feisty mind of yours. You’re everything.” I gaze at her with naked
admiration. I’ve had some amazing women in this life, and some crazy ones as
well. But tonight, I’m with Adriana, and she is hands down the most gorgeous
woman I’ve ever been around. For her to open up to me means she trusts me. For
me to do the same with her means I’ve crossed a line I painted long before we
left Milan. There’s no turning back now.

She
leans forward and kisses me on the cheek. “Are we going to sail the canal until
the sun rises? I heard St. Mark blesses people who ride under the bridge at the
break of dawn.”

“No,
but we don’t need the blessing of Saint Mark,” I answer. What she doesn’t add
is the part about Saint Mark blessing lovers who pass under the bridge, and in
order for the spell to work the couple has to be kissing as the gondola passes
by.

For
Adriana to be thinking about a lover’s spell makes me wonder exactly what’s
going on in her mind. Is she beginning to want more from me? We barely know
each other, yet we have so much in common that I feel like I’ve known her for
years instead of a couple of weeks. For example, I know she enjoys the slick
vocals of Norah Jones while I relish the raw sexiness of Carla Bruni’s voice,
two little facts that’ll come in handy during tonight’s mission. I only hope
the gondola’s sound system works. That’s the benefit of riding inside one that
belongs to a millionaire’s club, you get all the perks you need.

Leaning
against the wall, I place my palms on either side of her head, trapping her
with my body. A deliciously dark look clouds over her normally bright eyes; her
scent an intoxicating mix of floral, fruit, and the slightest bit of sweat,
giving her a primal edge that I can no longer resist. I want her. She wants me,
too. I can tell. Can feel it. Mama adores her. So what the hell am I waiting
for? I should take her back to the room and bang every bit of hesitation out of
me and every single ounce of insecurity out of her tiny dancer’s body.

“The
things I could do to you,” I say aloud before I can stop myself. Hell, I don’t
want to stop this, whatever this thing we’ve been doing has turned into.

“What
would you do to me, Luca Martuccio?” she gasps out, her chest heaving, and I
can’t stop myself after she asks me that question.

“Do
you want me to show you?”

She
nods furiously as she grazes her lips across mine, lingering over my lip ring.
“Words are a huge waste of time.”

“A
woman after my own heart,” I say as I take a handful of her hair in my hand and
tilt her head back. I now have full access to those gorgeously perfect lips,
her slender neck, and the curve of her breasts.

Behind
us, the waters of the canal swoosh gently to the rhythm of our breaths mixing
together, creating our very own music … an aria, as my ballerina calls a short
song that stays with you forever, affecting you in such a way that each muscle,
every bone, every single organ in your body falls under its spell. An Aria in
Venice. My old home has never hypnotized me in such a way as it’s doing right
now. Coming here with my parents each year had always been more of a task in
the past, although, I admired the love they had for each other. As I deepen the
kiss between Adriana and me, I think I finally understand the thing that has
pulled Mama back to Venice each year, especially this one. I would jump off the
Basilica a thousand times a day just to feel Adriana’s soft lips pressed
against mine every morning.

What
does admitting that to myself mean for us now?

Her
hands slide up under my shirt, the touch of her skin like an aphrodisiac, my
body shuddering. Using her tongue to explore the ring situated on the tip of
mine, she circles around the area. The piercing has made the skin around the
ring extra sensitive, so the sensations I’m experiencing shoot straight to my
cock, hardening me to a point of aching for relief. In return, I tighten my
grip on her hair and pull her body closer to mine as though we’re one lover
instead of two separate people. I’m not sure, but I think this is it, the one
kiss. The master of all moments in a man’s life leading up to that day when he
knows he has found his breaking point; the player’s demise syndrome, as my
friends back in Milan call the way I’m feeling right now. And if Adriana will be
the one leading the way to my fall, then I’ll happily accept my
self-destruction.

I
make my choice, move my lips to her ear, and say, “Let me make you feel like a
woman tonight.”

Adriana

 “Would
you like that, Adriana? For me to make you feel like a woman?” Luca manages to
whisper through our gasping breaths. I nod and continue my assault on his lower
lip, specifically the golden hoop that drives me a little crazier each time my
eyes land on it; and now my mouth will have the chance to do what my mind has
been doing for a long time—fantasizing like crazy! My hands race a marathon to
see which one can caress the most parts of his hard body first.

“I
need you to slow down, little Maia. I’ll still be here in the morning when the
sun rises. I promise,” he says between kisses. “Take your time, my love.”

I
move back the tiniest bit, every pore, each cell in my body on fire. Slowing
down isn’t an option I want to consider right now. “We’re not going to ride
around the canal until sunrise, are we?” I won’t lie, the thought excites me
almost as much as the two of us making out in a red gondola, which is named
after one of my most favorite historical queens, while sailing the Grand Canal
at midnight with a gondolier who must be totally used to these things. Pateri
hasn’t once tried to take a peek at us. But then, would I really know if he’s
been checking us out? I have been a bit preoccupied.

“Tell
me what you want, Adriana,” Luca breathes as he gently nips my neck. “I need to
hear you say it.”

“I
want you to make me feel like a woman, Luca.” He lifts his head and stares into
my face, his eyes a hooded mystery.

“And
what does my lady want me to do?”

“Kiss
me.”

“Kiss.
You. Where?” His tone is wicked, and his words ooze with seductiveness.

I
pause, the words caught on my lips because I’m too scared to tell him the
things I really want to say. “Kiss me all over.” Tilting his head, he narrows
his eyes, his expression dangerous. Suddenly, I’m thinking I might’ve ventured
a little too far out of my comfort zone with this man. Carla Bruni’s seductive
voice fills the canopy around us, the sexiness of her music and her throaty
vocals only serving to further charge the atmosphere inside the Queen
Elizabeth.

“Do
not be afraid to let go, Adriana. I won’t hurt you.” He caresses my cheeks with
the pads of his thumbs. “Now let me into that pretty little mind of yours.
Tell. Me. What. You. Need.”

“I
need … I …” I close my eyes and listen to the strength of my heartbeat,
allowing myself to give in to the ache in my body and the fluttering in my
chest.
Let go, Adriana. This is what you wanted, right?
I open my eyes
and say, “Make me forget everything. Kiss me until I’m crazy insane. Put your
hands all over my body. I want this. I want you.”

“That’s
all I needed to hear.” A dark look crosses his face as he dips his head and
devours my mouth, sucking on my bottom lip before parting my lips. Our tongues
entwine for a brief moment, then his mouth begins a trail down my chin to my
neck, and finally to the exposed skin on my chest, his body situated in a
position where he now lies on top of me. I can feel his erection, the hardness
of him exciting me even more than I believed to be possible. Sliding the straps
of my dress off my shoulders, Luca’s experienced mouth clamps onto my right
nipple, suckling it. I gasp and tremble, unable to believe I have waited this
long to experience something like this. I have never felt anything so
delicious, so mystical. Instinctively, my hips lift and grind against his
erection, causing him to release a moan as he sucks on both my nipple, his
tongue a lashing belt of experience.

“Do
you like it when I lick your nipples, Adriana?” he asks, his voice a throaty
groan of sexiness, making me even more light-headed than I already feel.

“Yes!”

“Yes,
what?”

“I
love it when you lick my nipples,” I say, surprised because I’m much less
hesitant than I was when we first started our venture.

He
gives me a tiny smile and murmurs, “I’m going to lick you all over now. Are you
ready for me, Adriana?” I nod. Speaking is out of the question, because right
now, I’m so not ready for a man like Luca Martuccio.

Easing
his hands up under my dress, he keeps his gaze locked on my eyes as his hand
finds a way into my panties, his fingers caressing my inner folds, massaging my
clit, but curiously avoiding my opening. I throw my head back against the
pillow, close my eyes, and give a shuddering gasp, not caring one bit that
we’re inside a gondola or what our driver must be thinking about the two horny
creatures riding inside his vessel. The only thing I care about is giving in to
this hunk of a man who’s showing me a side of myself I never knew existed.

A
hand weaves through my hair, grasping the strands at the roots and holding my
head back in place. Opening my eyes, I stare into Luca’s face. “Tell me you
want me to lick it,” he whispers, his thumb massaging my clit, ruthless in its
goal of making me insane. At this point, I’ll tell him anything he wants to
hear.

“I
want you to lick it, Luca.” I make sure and say his name this time, because I
can tell by the way his face lights up that he likes it when I do so.

“You
want me to lick what?” he urges, tightening his grip in my hair so it’s now
becoming the tiniest bit uncomfortable, but not unbearable. He wants me to say
that … the word. I’m not sure I can do it, but when he increases the pressure
on my clit and speeds up the way he’s circling around the delicate skin, the
sexy fucker knows he’s got me right where he wants me to be.

“Tell
me. What you want me to lick,” he growls. “Or would you rather I stop?”

“Lick
me. Lick my pussy! Just do it before I shove you out into the canal, you sexy
fucking asshole!” I call out.

“What
a naughty mouth my little Maia has developed,” he says, his eyes gleaming as he
lowers his head and traces a path across my bosom, my nipples, and positions
his body between my legs. Sliding his hands up under my bottom, he eases my
panties off in one fluid motion and spreads my legs. “I think a little punishment
is necessary here.”

He
lowers his head and begins teasing the sensitive folds of my sex with that
godforsaken tongue ring. A ripple fires through my body and my hips buck up. I
become lost in sensations of pleasure, my mind drifting in and out of my body
until I am no longer certain I have any good sense left. I have never felt
anything like this before.

Wrapping
his arms around my thighs, Luca grabs hold of them and spreads my legs wider,
holding me in place as he licks all over my inner folds: a combination of
tongue ring, lip hoop, and heat from his mouth. He’s working his skilled magic
on me, sending my body spiraling into depths of sensations, shudders, and
shivers I never believed could be possible. This has to be the best punishment
ever created because the man truly knows how to work his mouth and his body
jewelry.

Moving
one hand away from my left thigh, he manages to expose an even more sensitive
part of my clit, teasing the skin with his tongue ring while his lip ring stays
inside my folds. I’m getting double teamed by Luca’s tongue and that damn mouth
jewelry. I grab two handfuls of his hair as a sensation, which is both
pleasurable and painful, spreads through my sex and pelvis, my stomach, and finally
my nipples. My thighs tremble uncontrollably as Luca continues licking my clit,
the lash of his tongue ruthless in its drive to please me.

I
must be dying. Maybe I’ve already died, and Luca’s an angel. Only someone
otherworldly can work a tongue and lip ring that way. Either I’m dreaming, I’ve
croaked, or I’m experiencing the first orgasm of my life. No matter. All of
this is heavenly, and I can suddenly see why people go bat-crap insane over
someone after sharing this kind of intimacy.

Several
more trembles rock my body. I toss my head back into the pillow, my back
arching, my exposed breasts heaving. Releasing Luca’s hair, I brace myself by
shoving my palms up against the sides of the canopy walls and give in to the
fading waves of pleasure. His grip finally loosens on my thighs and he kisses
the skin around my sopping wet sex.

Moving
back up to lay beside me on the bench-bed, he closes his eyes a moment as
though grounding himself, which in turn, gives me time to get my breathing
under control. As my breath stops coming in spurts, which sound an awful lot
like a panting dog, I become aware of what Luca’s doing. His eyes are closed
and he’s breathing heavily, his face screwed up in pleasure.

Is
he doing what I think he’s doing? Oh my God!

I’m
intrigued, if not a bit confused, about why he’s choosing to do something like
that
with me lying here. I’m so naïve when it comes to men. Glancing down to the
space between us, I move my hand over his. He inhales a deep breath and holds
it, opening his eyes wide and staring at me as though he’s wondering if he
should allow me to touch him this way.

“Careful,
Maia. I am trying to be a good boy,” he whispers furiously, his gaze fierce as
it locks with mine, “but you’re enough to test even the strongest man’s willpower.”

“I
want you to feel good, too,” I say and begin moving my hand over his, massaging
his shaft hidden by the dim light built inside the canopy walls. The smooth
skin tightens under my grip and I can feel him pulsing as our hands work toward
his orgasm. A long moan escapes his lips and he closes his eyes again, moving
my hand around until my skin is on the smooth tip of his cock. I gasp just a
bit. I’ve never done anything like this before and I love every delicious
stroke, the moment hypnotizing me along with the gentle sway of the boat and
sounds of Venice all around us.

“
Dio sei bellissima.”
God, you’re beautiful,
he says. “I’m coming for you, Adriana.” Shudders move over his body and I can
feel his cock pulsating under my hand. At first, I thought my effort was
hurting him, but then, I understood how much he enjoyed it because he moved my
hand back onto him. One last tremble rocks through his muscled frame and he
takes my hand in his when his body finally goes still.

A
long moment of silence passes. He opens his eyes. “Damn, woman. You’ll be the
death of me. Of this, I’m almost certain.”

I
reach up and move his hair back from his face, smiling, and a bit confused
about what we just did.

“Was
that your first orgasm? Or maybe I should say orgasms,” he asks, our breaths
still combined as one. That’s how close our bodies are on the bench-bed. I can
smell me on his lips, and the rawness of what we just did and where we’ve been
doing it excites me so much I think I might explode. Heat creeps in between my
thighs, and if I were wearing underwear, then they’d be soaked again. “Tell
me,” he urges, “was that your first orgasm?” I nod, unable to speak.

A
question sits on my tongue. I hesitate and bask in the sound of our breathing a
second longer before I whisper, “Why didn’t you … you didn’t use your fingers.
To, you know …” Even after all I’ve said and what we just did, I still find I’m
blushing and struggling to voice my thoughts.

He
pauses and says, “You mean to ask why I chose not to put my fingers inside
you?” I nod, feeling grateful for the darkness hiding my flushed face. “
Mi
Dio.
Because you are a virgin, my sexy little Maia.” It’s a statement, not
a question; still, I nod again. Deaf and mute Adriana has suddenly taken over.
“I want your first time to be special, and not something done on a whim inside
of a boat.”

“You
knew? And you don’t think ... I’m not less attractive in your eyes now?”

“Someone
help me explain to this woman. This sexy, courageous, beautiful creature. Why
would I think such a thing? Your virginity is precious, as are you. Makes me
feel special because you have chosen me as the one you trust enough to do
something like we just did.”

“I
don’t know what to say.”

“Words
are an unnecessary evil.” His eyes glaze over, lost in some thought, and I want
to ask why, but I don’t want to ruin the magic of the moment we just shared.
“Rest. Enjoy wading inside the arms of the water goddess.” I love his poetical
way of thinking, his sexiness, the untamed way he charges after his passions.

Man,
I’ve been missing out on a life of intrigue and intimacy. I’ve been pretty much
in training to become a nun. I do believe Luca’s what Lis and Jojo would call
addictive in the same way that Lis describes Byron’s bedroom game and Jojo
praises her new boyfriend and ex-con, Jeremy D’Onofrio’s creativity, even
calling him a sex god hidden inside a rock star’s body. Guess I understand what
they mean now. I really do.