A Thief in Venice (9 page)

Lucia:

Antonio was still seated on his chair as I returned, and there was a bottle of lube in his hands. I sat on the table, and scooted my ass right to the edge, and spread my legs wide open so that he was between them.

“Now Lucia, there was a time, a long time ago, when I asked you how many fingers…”

Fuck. He was going to fist me. I whimpered in helpless arousal and anticipation.

“Do you remember?”

I mewled a noise that was supposed to be a yes.

“How many fingers would you like, sweetness?” he asked me. His eyes held mine and I could see the heat in them.

We didn’t have to do this. I could say four, and he would push four fingers into my dripping pussy, and he would make me come. And I would have an amazing time, and he wouldn’t be the slightest bit put out that I didn’t want him to fist me.

But this was my deepest, darkest desire. To be so completely under the control of a partner I trusted so much that I would let him insert his entire hand into my pussy. “All of them,” I whispered as an answer, and he smiled and leaned forward and kissed my clitoris softly.

“It might not work,” I started to say in worry.

“Hush,” he chided. “Stop stressing. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something else. The journey in this case is as fun as the destination, so lie back and relax.”

“Now,” his voice was calm, as he pushed two well-lubricated fingers inside of me. “Don’t forget your safe word,” he cautioned.

I nodded. I wasn’t about to forget it.

“Close your eyes, sweetness,” he ordered. His fingers pumped in and out of me, and his mouth was on my clitoris, and well, well before I thought I was even close, I crashed into orgasm, and lay there writhing helplessly on the table.

His hands held me down, and he wouldn’t let me close my legs. “Keep them parted, Lucia,” he snapped. “We are just getting started here.”

“Yes Sir,” I muttered compliantly. I could hear the slight crack of plastic as Antonio opened the lid of the lube, and then, he had four fingers in me, and he was pushing steadily, rotating them so that each and every bit of my vaginal passage came into contact with his curved fingers.

“I’m going to push deeper, past my knuckles,” he said. “Stop me if it’s too painful.” His voice was quiet and even. His calmness seeped into me and I relaxed. I could stop this anytime, and Antonio would be fine. We were playing together – we would both have fun.

“Okay,” I said.

He pushed, his thumb circling my clitoris in soothing circles. He wasn’t trying to make me come. He was just touching me with enough softness so that pleasure filled my body. A brief pain, a slight feeling of stretching, and then, he growled softly.

“You should see this, Lucia,” he said, his voice appreciative. “The lips of your pussy are puffed around my fingers, and I can see you drip.” I could hear myself as his fingers moved around in me, wet squishy sounds of arousal.

“How many fingers?” I asked him. I wished I could see what he was doing. Next time, I was going to ask for a mirror. Or a camera.

“Four, all the way to my knuckles,” he said. He moved them in and out of me, and each time, there was a slight edge of pain that heightened the pleasure that rushed in. “I can feel every twitch of your muscles, sweetness, and you have no idea what that does to me.”

His voice was less calm now and more ragged with lust. I smiled when I heard that edge in his voice, and I said the words that I knew would bring him closer to that edge. “Add your thumb, please?” I asked him.

“Ah fuck Lucia,” he muttered. He pulled out entirely, and I could hear the squishing sound of lube all over his hand, and he also squirted some directly into my pussy, using his fingers to spread it around my snatch.

“Stop me anytime it gets too much, sweetness,” he warned me, and he curled his thumb into his palm, and pushed his fingers steadily into me. I bit my lip as the pain momentarily flared in my body, but it faded quickly, and then, I felt his hand in every inch of my pussy.

“Antonio,” I groaned.

“I’m going to start moving my hand now, Lucia,” he warned.

“Not too hard?” I asked.

“No, of course not, sweetness,” he replied soothingly, and I felt silly about the need for reassurance, but still glad I had asked. Antonio was a considerate lover who always gave me pleasure, even when he was spanking the living daylight out of me, and there was no reason for my nervousness. Except he did have a fist in my pussy. Some nervousness was understandable.

He pulled out just a little, and then he pushed back gently. I could feel my pussy open for him, and it was a strange feeling, unlike any other that I’d felt. “Is that okay?” he asked me.

“Go just a bit harder,” I panted. I could feel the sweat bead on my brow as he took me in this most intimate of ways. I lifted my upper body and watched as his hand disappeared inside my pussy, and it was the most erotic image I’d ever seen in my life.

“Put your fingers in your mouth, get them nice and wet, and put them on your clitoris,” Antonio ordered. I obeyed, and rubbed my clitoris, as his hand pushed inside me, and all I could feel was intense pleasure. I wanted to grab his wrist and push it inside me, deeper, so he could totally possess me, body and soul. I’d never given myself this way to a man before, and I was pretty confident I’d never give myself in this way to another man again.

I shivered, as I felt my arousal build, the pressure of his hand in my pussy speeding up my climax, and then, I came, every muscle in my body stiffening as my orgasm swept over me, and I just hung on and let each and every pulse shoot through my body in helpless surrender.

As I felt the clenching, thrashing waves slowly subside, I could feel him slide his fist out of my body, and then he leaned forward, and he rested his head on my hips, and kissed me gently.

“You are so beautiful, Lucia,” he whispered. “Your pussy is so wet, so pretty, so gaping open for me.”

“Gaping open, that doesn’t sound like a good thing,” I groaned.

“It’s a very good thing,” Antonio replied. I could hear the note of male pride in his voice, and my lips twitched.  

I moved my fingers to touch my pussy. It felt sensitive. I was going to be in a world of pain tomorrow. “I’m going to be sore,” I remarked.

He laughed. “Yes, you are.” Again, the sound of satisfaction in his voice, and I grinned to myself. “Want some water?” he asked me.

“Please,” I muttered. I drank the water he handed me, and then just lay there on his kitchen table, my legs still open; my body unable to find the energy to move.

I could feel his fingers unbuckling the collar on my neck, and setting it aside. “Come on, sweetness,” he said, his voice gentle and indulgent. He swept me into his arms, and carried me up the stairs to his bed, and he tucked blankets around me, and lay down next to me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, as I curled my body into his.

He kissed my neck, and stroked my hair, and I fell asleep in his arms. Right before sleep came though, I put my lips near his ear, and whispered,
I’m still going to steal your painting, you know.
I fell asleep to the sound of his warm chuckle.

Antonio:

I got dressed for the Doge’s Palace Gala, my mind entirely on Lucia. I hadn’t seen her in a week. She’d been in London for work, arranging the details for an exhibit she was in charge of.
‘Religious Iconography in Contemporary Art.’
Lots of modern art was going to be on display, and modern art wasn’t a mainstay at the Doge’s Palace. She had been understandably nervous about it. The Doge’s Palace didn’t really do a lot of ground-breaking exhibits, content mostly to display the furnishings, the tapestries and the artwork of the Doges. She’d texted me today though, and I couldn’t wait to see her tonight.

Once I arrived, I looked for Lucia, but the damn room was crowded. A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne, and I helped myself as my eyes searched the gallery.

“Antonio,” a familiar voice slurred next to me.

I turned towards Tatiana. “Tia, you are drunk,” I said, my voice concerned. Tatiana wasn’t a heavy drinker, and she rarely let her hair down. “What’s the matter?”

She swayed on her feet, and I put an arm around her waist to steady her, silently cursing as I did so. Venice was a hothouse of gossip. It’d be all around the city that I’d touched Tatiana. The speculation would reignite the gossip about my relationship with Lucia. But Tatiana was one of my oldest friends, and right now, I judged her need greater than my concern about idle gossip.

“Come on,” I urged her, drawing her towards a more secluded corner of the museum. “What’s wrong?”

She was masked, as was I, so I couldn’t see the expression in her eyes, but I could definitely see the tears fall down her cheeks. I swore, and pulled her into my arms, and let her cry. As she cried, I tried to shield her from the room. Tatiana was proud, and tomorrow, she’d be mortified that she had lost control in front of a room crowded with people. She didn’t reply, her shoulders shaking from her sobs.

And because life was just fucked up like that, right at that instant, Lucia and Liam Callahan turned into the corner we were in.

***

She’d taken off her mask, and was shaking her hair loose, laughing at something Liam was saying. And then, she saw the two of us, and I watched the emotions flit through her eyes. Recognition. Disbelief. Shock. Betrayal. And then, she just turned and walked away.

“Fuck,” I swore. I had to go after her. “Liam, watch Tatiana for me, please,” I ordered, and went after her in the direction she had taken. I’d apologize to both Liam and Tatiana later. Right now, my heart was pounding. I just needed to find her and explain the truth about Tatiana and me before it was too late.

Lucia:

I sat in a staff-only room tucked away in the back of the museum as the night passed. The first flush of betrayal had faded, and what was left was anger. The hurt would come later.

Antonio was the one suggesting monogamy. Evidently, that only applied to me.

Had I walked in on them kissing, it would have hurt less. But he had held Tatiana Cordova with tenderness. I knew that tenderness. I owned that tenderness. He had promised it to me the night he had buckled a collar around my neck. But I had been a fool for believing him, for believing his quiet words about wanting only me. For believing his lies about Casanova, another ploy to control me. For believing any of it.

Eventually, I straightened my shoulders. I wasn’t going to slink away quietly, shamed by something he had done. He was the one who had promised monogamy and had failed. I was going to yell and scream and express my anger. Then, I’d walk away. But first, I was going to tell him exactly what I thought of him.

***

The main gallery had mostly cleared of people by the time I left the staff room. It was really late. I looked at my watch and winced. Three in the morning. Antonio would be back at his house by now. In bed, maybe with Tatiana Cordova. I tried not to let that image form in my head, but I failed.

“Lucia?” I winced again as I saw Enzo Peron. I hadn’t seen him for months, not since the last time I was at the club.

Enzo.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
Antonio had talked about Casanova being leverage. Knowing who played at the club was useful when you wanted people to cooperate with you. Including Enzo Peron, the Chief of Police. Enzo, who had no idea that he revealed a hidden bit of himself to the head of Thieves Guild in Venice.

I wanted to tell him. I really, really did. But as furious as I was with Antonio, something held me back. Antonio had betrayed me. But I would listen to his explanation first. I owed him that much, for the months we had spent together.

“Is something the matter, Lucia?” Enzo’s voice was concerned.

I shook my head, but my eyes filled with tears.

“Lucia? What’s wrong?”

I swallowed. Enzo was a friend, and at this moment, I badly needed one. Half the city already thought I was Antonio Moretti’s mistress. Enzo had no doubt heard the rumours.

“I’ve been sleeping with Antonio Moretti,” I said, my voice doleful. “But it was all based on a lie.” Antonio had promised me he would be faithful. He had stood next to me with heat in his eyes, and told me that I had ruined him for other women. I had doubted him at the start, leery of attachment after the way my parents had died, but then, I had come to trust him. I had been such a fool. I fought back the hot tears that threatened to overflow again.

“What lie?” Enzo sounded puzzled.

“He said there would be no other women,” I said. My voice was bitter.

“There were other women?” Enzo raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

I glared at Enzo. He looked levelly at me. I knew that look. I’d seen that look at the club. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get the soundest spanking of my life. “Tatiana Cordova,” I said, looking at the floor. I couldn’t look at him. I was engulfed in humiliation and shame. Antonio had spoken words with a voice so sincere that I had suspended my skepticism and believed him. A fool and a fool and a fool once again.

He laughed, a sound of utter amusement. My gaze shot to his face in shock. I expected that I would be the target of snide laughter when the word got out. I hadn’t expected it from Enzo Peron.

But there was nothing snide about the look Enzo gave me. “Ah, Lucia,” he said, shaking his head. “You do jump to conclusions. And because I like you, and I like Antonio, I’m going to help you children sort this out.” He placed special, pointed emphasis on the word
children
.

“Wait. What?” The room was reeling around me. Nothing made sense.

“Sit,” Enzo’s voice snapped at me in his Dominant voice, and I sat automatically. He smirked slightly. My lips twitched despite myself. “Did Antonio ever tell you where he grew up?”

“He said he was an orphan,” I replied.

“He was. And I was as well. And Tatiana. We grew up together. We were the Three Musketeers. All for one and one for all.”

I gazed at him in shock. “He isn’t sleeping with her?”

Enzo shook his head. “As best I know, they only slept together once. When we were twenty. One drunk night. It isn’t that kind of relationship.” He paused. “We have a bond built through adversity, the three of us. But I know he is telling the truth. Since he met you, you have been the only woman in his bed and in his playroom.”

“Oh.” My voice was small. Enzo was right; I had jumped to conclusions. Shaped by the way my father had abandoned me, I had automatically assumed the worst of a man who had never given me reason to doubt him.

“What are you going to do, Lucia?”

I stood. “I’m going to find Antonio.”

He smiled at me. “Excellent choice.”

***

I wasn’t sure the guards would let me in. But they parted silently, and the lights in the driveway twinkled on. The front door was ajar.

I knocked and entered. Antonio stood just inside the doorway.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Enzo told me about the three of you.” 

“I should have told you myself,” he said. His voice was level. “I’m sorry too.”

We just looked at each other. Neither of us was perfect. I was skittish. Antonio kept his secrets. We would both have to learn how to be in a relationship.

Finally, he smiled a relaxed smile. It lit up his face. I furrowed my brow at him. “Why are you smiling?” I asked him.

He laughed. “It won’t be boring, will it? Us. This journey.”

He stayed where he was, but I moved closer, till I was standing so close I could feel the heat from his body. He opened his arms, and I sighed and moved in and leaned into him. “Not the slightest bit boring,” I replied softly.

He smiled and put my hand over his heart. “There’s no one else for me, little thief,” he said. “I know,” I replied. We stayed like that, clinging to each other just inside the doorway, till at last, Antonio pulled away from me and eyed me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath; we wouldn’t be playing tonight.

“Let’s go to bed, sweetness.”