An Aria in Venice: A Musical Interlude Novel (24 page)

“I’m
going to make sure you never regret this night,” he says, and I fully believe
he has the power to make me forget everything and anyone. When he positions his
body between my legs, his hardness stirring my desire into a fire inside me, I
realize I’ve never wanted something so much in all my life.

“This
is going to hurt a little,” he breathes, massaging my cheeks with the pads of
his thumbs. “Trust me?”

“I
trust you,” I answer truthfully, although the sight of his cock, thick and
engorged, makes me a bit wary. Can something that big fit inside me?

He
lifts up a bit and places the tip against the opening to my sex, a moan
escaping his lips as he does so, and he pushes himself inside of me. I inhale a
deep, shuddering breath, the sensation of pain mixed with pleasure overwhelming
me for the shortest moment. And when I’ve taken as much of him as I can handle,
he stops and waits, his body trembling with the need to thrust, to relieve
himself no doubt. I can tell by the firm set of his lips and the way his
breathing rotates—between gasps and him holding his breath every so often—that
he’s fighting against his most primal desires in order to please me.

“Mine,
Adriana. You are mine.” With every beat of his heart I can also feel the throb
of his cock, pulsating inside me. And at this moment, I do belong to him.

I
close my eyes and surrender to the sensation that has now replaced the pain.
Rapture. Wonder. Intrigue. Maybe even a bit of insanity because I’m losing a
part of me. I gasp out and buck my hips, moving in unison with his thrusts.

“You
like the way I make you feel?” he asks.

“Yes!
Oh yes. I fucking love the way you make me feel.”

Luca,
being the skilled lover, caresses me with his cock, moving in and out of my sex
in a way that combines short strokes with long shoves, quickening his pace
every now and then, a combination of moves that soothes the fading burn in my
delicate walls, while loosening me up at the same time. I wrap my legs around
his ass, wanting to feel him deeper inside of me, and he gives me what I’m
asking for right away, lifting up so he can push himself deeper inside me.

“You’re
so tight and wet. Is all that for me?”

“Yes!
Every bit of it is for you,” I answer, lifting my hips up to meet his and
writhing against his cock, meeting his thrusts with my own, each effort
grinding against my swollen clit.

In
return, he gnashes his teeth, pumps a bit harder, and says, “Keep doing that
and ... you’ll make me come.” A string of Italian I don’t understand leaves his
lips next, and even that sexy accent of his sends me whirling deeper into
whatever hole Luca Martuccio has chosen to dig and hide me inside.

Taking
a fistful of my hair, he begins a combination of pumps mixed with kisses and
nibbles on my neck that sends me into a gasping frenzy. A wave of pleasure
begins in my buttocks and spreads through my sex, finally clenching inside my
abdomen. It’s amazing! “Oh God, Luca.”

“Say
my name while you come for me.”

“Luca!
I’m coming for you. Oh God, I’m coming, Luciano Martuccio!” My body convulses
with such a back bending force that I’m not certain what would’ve happened if Luca
wasn’t positioned on top of me.

“You’re
coming ... so hard for me, Adriana,” he whispers, his eyes closed as my
contractions squeeze him, milking every bit of my energy and sending Luca into
a convulsing mix of shudders, thrusts, and growling gasps.

Collapsing
on top of me, he lays that way, the sounds of rowboat horns and thrashing water
blending with our rasping breaths. He eases over on his side without either
releasing the grip he has on my body or pulling out of me, holding on so
tightly it’s almost painful. Eventually, I drift off to the land of dreams with
only the soothing rhythm of our heartbeats lulling me into the first nightmare
free sleep I’ve had in years.

I
have no problem agreeing to accept his offer to stay two more days.

Adriana

A
bird chirps inside the room, but it’s not a real one, though. It’s my cell
phone. I forgot to turn the damn thing off. I press the button on the side,
silencing the ringer before it goes off again and awakens Luca.

I
glance behind me. He’s sleeping, a peaceful expression on his face, reminding
me of a young boy in the way he’s clutching the pillow in my absence. I’m glad
to see him resting. Even though we’re all worried about Simona’s illness, Luca
stands to lose the most. Deep inside the player with a big heart, a little boy
still lives. And now, he’s about to lose the one thing that has grounded him
and helped him to overcome some of the demons from his past.

I
read my screen and inhale deeply, holding the breath. The text is from Nikolai.
I think he must be psychic.

N:
Your silence is agonizing.

I
hesitate and read the sentence twenty more times, wondering if there’s a camera
hidden somewhere in our room, something that tipped Nikolai off on what just
happened between Luca and me. About ten minutes pass, and I still haven’t
decided what to do about the text.

N:
And your hesitation to respond is killing me.

N:
Heard you will be held up for two more days. Could you tell me if everything is
all right?

Another
five minutes pass as I sit on the edge of the bed, staring at the phone, trying
to decide if I should respond, the tiniest bit of guilt creeping up inside me.
I’ve been so caught up in the beauty of this family that has practically
adopted me, so lost in the eyes of a man who hits something deep inside of me
each time he glances my way, that I’ve almost forgotten about the things I’ll
have to face when I get home, especially since Luca has decided that my
virginity entitles him to ownership over me. I’ve never been owned by anyone
before. The thought kind of makes me feel like a used car for some reason, but
it also makes me feel incredibly sexy, which must mean I’m a pretty damn good
looking used car … a Bugatti or a Countach maybe. Why should I feel guilty?
Nikolai is no saint, and he made it clear that he didn’t mind me leaving.

Glancing
back at Luca, I find him lying on his back. He has now thrown an arm across his
forehead, hiding his eyes so only his lips can be seen, his muscled chest
rising and falling. He’s truly a beautiful man. Hurt. Betrayed. Misunderstood.
But well-loved by his parents. The rock star designer god. A player with the
big heart that he carries on his shoulder, not so everyone can admire it from a
distance, but so he can give pieces of it to the people he chooses to love. One
thing I’ve learned about Luca is that when he believes in something or someone,
there’s no limit to the things he’ll do to make sure the object of his
infatuation remains happy. His loyalty and generosity are two of the things I
most admire about him. No, he’s not perfect. Yes, he has screwed up some things,
but those are the exact qualities bringing us closer together each day.

Turning
back to the screen, I position my fingers over the keys and type:

Me:
I’m sorry. Everything’s fine. Good night.

I
hurry up and switch off the power before Nikolai has the chance to respond.
There’s nothing worse than hearing the cries of a bird that’s in pain because
of its broken wing, especially if you’re the one who shot the arrow.

Luca

The
next morning, both of my brothers are sitting in the great room, heads bowed
toward each other as they work their hands in various jabs and stabs at the
air. As usual, they’ve already begun discussing something important without considering
my feelings during the process. It’s time for them to change the way they treat
me. Today I intend to take the first step in that direction by telling them the
way I think Mother’s memorial should take place.

I
take a seat opposite theirs and cross my arms. No one speaks for a long moment.
Instead, we have this silent showdown, three sets of eyes throwing imaginary
daggers at one another.

“You
are fucking around with a Dostovsky. You never learn,” Giovanni scolds,
lighting into me without saying good morning.

I
keep my thoughts focused on the goal. “Did you get Marcello to sign the
paperwork, or no?” I ask, anxious to hear more about Mama’s burial plan more so
than anything else. Marcello’s family owns the plot in San Marcale where Papa
is buried, and soon where Mama will be lying alongside him. As the
representative of their estate, Marcello has to give his permission for my
parents to be buried beside each other. I know he’s angry with me for what I
did to his sister, but even the Spirelli’s have morals.

Gio
and Rafe pass knowing looks between each other before turning their gazes back
to me. Rafe speaks first. “You were supposed to use her as a stand-in for
Mama’s sake. That was it. Thought we made the hands off part of the deal pretty
clear. You took the job to the next level. She is our client’s daughter,
Luciano,” Rafe growls, his dark-eyed gaze a storm of anger and jealousy. “Will
you ever learn how to keep a leash on it?”

“Maybe
I will. Maybe not. Fact number one ... Adriana and I are both adults. Not
products or toys for people to use when they find it convenient. Fact number
two ... you’re both being assholes. This is a time for Mama, not our personal
differences. Now, do we discuss her burial arrangements, or do we lose my
support? Because I refuse to sit here and dwell on what I cannot change. I
think I can, no, I will focus on my future. Yes, that future includes Adriana
Dostovsky. No, I do not give a shit how anyone feels about what we’re doing,
including my brothers.”

Giovanni
bolts to his feet. “Did you not learn from the way things ended with Leona?”
His fists are clenched and nostrils are flaring as he glares at me. I might’ve
been worried if this wasn’t my brother, but he is and I want things to get
right between us. However, I’m not going to keep taking his abuse.

“I
have done everything to try and make up for something that wasn’t entirely my
fault,” I answer.

He
scoffs, “What part of sleeping with the woman I loved and dumping her when she
needed you the most sounds innocent to you? Now, we have to pay more money for
Mama’s serum than we can afford.” He’s yelling now, his shoulders heaving,
barely able to contain his rage.

“Calm
down, Giovanni,” Rafe says in a mellow voice as he tips his head toward
something behind us. I spin around. Adriana stands in the doorway, her dark
hair secured in a braid that’s draped over her left shoulder, the style making
me think of Mama. Even Rafe and Gio stop to stare at her.

“And
the devil in a green dress appears before our eyes,” Gio murmurs. I throw a
hard look his way. I don’t give a shit that he’s some big time fighter at the
moment. He won’t be insulting Maia without paying for it in some way.

“I
can pay for Simona’s burial rites and her medicine,” she says, ignoring
Giovanni.

“No
way! I’m not taking your money,” I snap, standing and walking toward her.

“You
need it,” she states in a low voice, her big, gorgeous eyes boring into mine.
I’m both flattered and angry; I don’t know which emotion to trust, so I go with
asshole instead.

“I’m
not a charity case.”

She
narrows her eyes. “Not fair. I love Simona and you know it.”

Her
confession hits me right in the heart. I stumble to form the words I need to
defend my pride. “I don’t want Dostovsky money unless I’ve earned it.”

“Fucking
idiot! Mama needs us to be smart, not prideful right now,” Rafe scolds, and for
once, I have to agree with him. He turns to Adriana and says, “I think that’s
an excellent idea and would be grateful for any assistance you’re able to
offer.”

“Si.
Even though it is blood money,” Gio’s bored, deep voice chimes in. What would
life be like without my big brother and his attitude problem around to make a
shitty situation feel even shittier? Boring, I’m sure.

“How
many people had to die for your father to secure his fortune, baby girl?” Gio
continues, “I even heard he tortured people to get information on his enemies.
I must admire a man of such means since I’ve never known anyone like him.”

“Leave
my family out of this,” she warns.

“Or
you’ll do what? Order my execution?” The stupidity he’s showing right now isn’t
about upsetting Adriana, this is my brother doing what he has always done best
… lashing out at me when he believes I’ve gotten something I don’t deserve. In
this case, it’s Adriana’s heart.

“Leave
her alone, Giovanni. I am warning you.” He simply stares at me a brief moment.
As children, we fought all the time. Sometimes playful, most often not. Only
when females came into the picture, girls like Leona, did our relationship
spiral into a deep pit of darkness. The brother I loved and worshipped in spite
of his bullyish nature, suddenly became my archrival in almost everything. It
hurts like hell, and I wish we could go back to the way we were before we
became this.

“I’ll
do even better than leaving her alone.” He stands up and shoves his chair up
against the wall, the noise of the wood vibrating throughout the quiet room and
hallways. “I’ll just take myself out of this picture. Obviously, I’m not
wanted.”

“Giovanni,
Mama will be expecting you for dinner,” Rafe reminds our hot-headed brother to
no avail.

“She
has her golden boy and his scandalous fucking toy. She doesn’t need me,” he
calls out over his shoulder on his way out the door. His words slice me to the
core. I don’t know why I let him get to me this way, but I do.

“You
must forgive Giovanni,” Rafe says to Adriana, surprising the hell out of me.
“He’s taking Mama’s illness a lot harder than he lets on. He’s grateful for
your offer. We all are.”

“I
need a moment alone with my girlfriend, if you don’t mind.” I emphasize the
words to drive my point into my brother’s thick head, loving the way Adriana’s
face brightens now that I’ve finished saying it.

He
hesitates, our gazes locked, and then answers, “Sure.”

When
we’re alone, I inhale deeply and turn to Adriana. “Know this right from the
start. I will not be using you for your money.”

“Okay,”
she says, looking so innocent, even though I know she’s not; especially since
I’m the one she chose to sacrifice that innocence for.
Dio, she’s beautiful.
Her beauty makes it seem like she’s from another world, but her spirit draws me
to her until I’m no longer in control. I’m the moth who decided to hop right
into the flame … after circling around its fire like a coward. “But someday
soon, you’ll tell me what happened between you and Gio, right?”

“Of
course. Come here, baby.” I pull her into my arms, inhaling the scents of
Adriana. The sweet apple body spray makes her smell delicious. Thinking of our
passion last night and the way she held on to my body, pulling me deeper into
her sex, makes me hard at once.

“I
think someone needs a little help with something,” she whispers seductively,
her gaze sliding down to my cock and returning to my face.

“Tell
me, Adriana Dostovsky, do you know where a poor boy might find some relief?”

Narrowing
her eyes as though she’s in deep thought, she murmurs, “I think I might have a
remedy. Buuuut ... it requires a room and a bed.”

“Mi
Dio. My dirty little badass ballerina.”

She
scoffs, “I’m talking about a massage, you gutter-minded man.”

“Exactly
what I need.” I don’t give her a chance to say anything else. Instead, I lift
her tiny little body, toss her over my shoulder, and head back up to our room.
I can’t think of a better way to spend our last day than taking the time to
“massage” away our problems.