A Starlet in Venice (10 page)

“Yes Sir,” I whimpered. I was a storm of emotion and need. I had to have him. I needed to feel his weight pressed into my body. I need to feel his cock penetrate my core. There was an ache in my throat, a yearning in my body that could only be fulfilled by him.

His eyes surveyed mine. Perhaps he realized I was holding on by the merest thread. He leaned forward and kissed me gently, and his hands groped for a condom. I closed my eyes as a shiver of relief ran through my body. “Thank you, Sir,” I said, gratitude etched in my voice.

His thumb ran over my lip. “Come to the edge of the bed, rabbit,” he instructed. I scooted to the edge of the bed, and he reached for a small glass butt plug. He lubed it up, and then pushed it gently into my ass, already relaxed by his fingers and the bullet.

I bit my lip. It didn’t hurt, but it felt very
present
in my ass. Liam’s fingers stroked the knob, then he pulled it out and pushed it back in, fucking me slowly with the plug.

Each nerve ending in my anal passage came alive, and my pussy dripped in response. My eyes must have widened, because Liam looked at my expression and chuckled. “Having fun?” His voice was deep, and I could hear pride mixed with amusement in his tone.

“I didn’t think it would feel so good,” I breathed.

“Let’s make it feel better,” he smiled. He rolled the condom over his dick, and pushed it into me in one stroke. “Ah fuck, rabbit,” he groaned.

I couldn’t form words. I’d never felt fuller in my life. His hard dick in my pussy, the plug in my ass. I was so wet, so slick. I heard the slurping sounds my body made as it protested when he pulled out, and welcomed him back in. I was greedy, so very greedy. I wanted him buried in me, and I never wanted to let go.

Each hard stroke punched me into my core. I whimpered. I moaned. I drowned in pleasure. I pushed my hips up and begged for more. His hands held my hips down. His eyes locked on mine. “Tia,” he growled.

“Liam,” I breathed.

I knew this man. He’d been my friend for the last year. I’d seen a glimpse of this side when he’d spanked me and fucked me the other night, but tonight, I saw it more clearly. Tonight, he’d owned my body effortlessly. He owned my heart and he owned my soul.

I threw back my head and surrendered to the pleasure. I heard the slap of his body pounding into mine, and I felt the reverberations in the throbbing of my nipples, in my clitoris, in the beat of my heart. In that moment, I dropped my walls, every single one of them, and I let all the emotion I felt show in my eyes. I loved Liam. I let it shine through in my gaze.

He kissed me. All evening, his kisses had been gentle, but he wasn’t gentle now. His mouth claimed me. His fingers danced on my clitoris. His dick slammed into my body.

“I’m coming,” I breathed.

“Ask permission.” It was an order by my Dominant.

“Sir,” I moaned. “May I come? Please?”

He contemplated. His cock never let up on the pounding it was giving my willing, needy, dripping pussy. “Please,” I begged again.

His fingers pushed harder on my clitoris, moved faster. I whimpered. I couldn’t hold back, but I really wanted to make Liam proud of me. “Sir,” I moaned. I could hear the jagged desperation in my voice, the almost complete unravelling.

“Come.”

And that was it. With his permission, I shattered.

Through a haze, I heard him groan. “Rabbit, I can feel every muscle quiver in your body,” he growled. I felt him pound into me, harder, faster, grabbing me firmly by the hips and holding me tight as he climaxed as well. I felt him pull out, and I whimpered in protest, but he didn’t go far. He removed the condom, tied it off and tossed it in the trashcan by the side of the bed, then he came and lay down next to me, pulling me into his arms.

I felt our hearts beat. Almost in rhythm, I thought poetically. And then, I giggled. “Sir?” I asked him with a grin. “There’s still a butt plug in my ass. “

He laughed as well. “I’d like to tell you it’s all part of a grand plan,” he said ruefully, pulling it out and setting it aside, “but I forgot.” He kissed me. “Check in with me. How are you doing?”

I snuggled into his shoulder. “I had no idea,” I whispered into his body. “That it could be so intense and so good. Was I okay? Was I a good submissive?”

“Rabbit,” he said solemnly, “You were amazing. I am the luckiest guy in the world.”

I fell asleep in his arms.

Liam:

It wasn’t all training sessions, of course. We went for walks. I cooked meals. We went shopping together. She had her own apartment, but I did my best to ensure she spent hardly any time there. I’d a year of wanting this woman. I wanted to savour every little bit of her, in the week I had before she had to fly off to Dingle again.

But soon enough, she gave me a look, the one that sent a lance of heat right to my dick, and asked for another session. And since she was about to leave for Dingle in two days, and since my mind couldn’t let go of the idea of Tia, spread on my bed, cuffed and restrained, wriggling as I worshipped every inch of her body, I was more than happy to comply.

I had stored the toys I’d gathered from Casanova in the top drawer of my dresser. It was strange, that feeling, to open a drawer and see vibrators and dildos and nipple clamps there, and it struck me with a forceful surge that I was in a relationship with Tia. A new one, and she still kept secrets from me. Yet, though her reticence bothered me, I understood it, because her road had been as bumpy as mine had been smooth. Scars had formed. My goal was to see them fade.

In the meanwhile, I consoled myself that she was here in my apartment. Whether she was in my kitchen, doing dishes as a thank-you for the meal I’d cooked, or whether she was in my bedroom, she was here, and she was
present
in my life.

She was on the bed like I’d asked her. Naked, on her knees, with her shoulders touching the mattress. Her hands reached back and gripped her ankles, and her plump pussy lips tantalized me with their shiny dampness. My little rabbit was already aroused, and my dick grew erect instantly as I gazed on her.

“You are such a good girl,” I said. I ran a hand up her body. Cupping that sweet ass, circling that tight little rosebud. Trailing a path down her spine, before wrapping her long hair in my hands and gripping it tight. I heard her inhale, and her hips pushed back and her knees nudged apart still more. I smirked. Tia didn’t realize how expressive her entire body was.

She’d been in that position for fifteen minutes, and if I didn’t order her to move, I didn’t think I’d be able to resist unzipping my pants, rolling on a condom and plowing into that hot, tight, puffy pussy. “Turn around, Tia,” I ordered, to keep myself from doing just that.

She obeyed instantly. Her eyes gazed at me, and I could see a haze in them. Her nipples were erect, but her breathing was even. Relaxed, yet aroused, and dancing towards subspace. She was a vision, my sweet Tatiana.

I had a set of nipple clamps in my hands. I rolled her pretty buds between my fingers, coaxing them still further erect before I slid the clamps on them, moving the ring closer to her nipples to tighten them, until her breath caught in her throat.

“Too much?”

She shook her head silently, and I hissed with displeasure. “I want my instructions acknowledged verbally, Tia.” It was more than control. Talking showed awareness. Her reactions, her body, her needs and desires – these were all new to me. Without her telling me what pleased her and what caused her pain, I would risk etching my own scars on her, and I never wanted to do that.

“Sorry Sir.” Her voice was contrite. “It isn’t too much.”

“Tell me how it feels,” I insisted.

She drew a deep breath. Her voice was soft when she spoke. “I can feel my blood pulse in my nipples,” she said. “I feel like a ripe grape, about to explode. I can feel each and every exhale of your breath all over my body. I feel
everything
.”

Well Fuck me. I should have had her write my books. After I buried myself in her hot, tight pussy and slaked my need in her sweetness. My cock twitched agreement with that idea. Soon. But not yet.

I grabbed the leather cuffs, and wrapped them around the soft skin of her wrists, attaching them with a pair of straps to the two ends of the headboard. I kissed my way down her stomach, wrapping my hands around one ankle, before strapping a cuff around it, drawing her leg open and fastening the strap to the footboard.

Her breathing quickened noticeably, and her eyes clenched shut.

My hands caressed her thighs, teasing at her pussy, before I fastened a cuff to her other ankle, and drew her legs wide apart.

Her breathing hitched. I looked at her questioningly, but her eyes were still closed. Her lower lip was drawn between her teeth. In the arm bindings, her hands had clenched into fists.

“Rabbit? Check in for me.”

No reply. Her eyes stayed shut. Her chest rose and fell as her breathing came in uneven gasps.

Something prickled in me. This wasn’t arousal. This didn’t seem like a response to anticipation.
This was something else.

“Tia,” I tried again. “Honey. Talk to me.”

Nothing. I moved up her body, and she flinched. Her entire body shuddered away from me.
What the fuck?

She was shivering. Her skin was cold and clammy. She wasn’t responding. Her eyes were shut, and wherever her mind was, it wasn’t here. Her heart was beating fast and hard, like a butterfly struggling desperately for freedom.

Something was very, very wrong.

In an instant, I’d untied her, willing my hands to steadiness as I unclasped the cuffs and released her from her bindings. The nipple clamps followed. She stayed immobile, her eyes still shut, and I frowned in concern. She was still not responsive.

I pulled a blanket over her, and I settled down by her side.

I cursed myself as I waited. She’d hinted that she might get nervous about being tied. I should have probed further, but from a year of being her friend, I knew that Tia hated to be forced for information. When she was ready, I knew she would tell me. But she hadn’t said anything, and now, my sense of failed responsibility was crushing me. I should have never touched the cuffs without finding out why she was nervous about them.

Now, I had a very good idea why she was responding the way she had, and as I waited for her to come back to me, all I could do was wonder if I’d pushed her away for good.

***

Tatiana:

As awareness slowly returned, I felt him next to me. Liam. And even though I had no right to do it, I reached out and placed my hand in his, drawing from his strength.

I had thought that the panic attacks were behind me. But they weren’t. I had reacted the worst possible way as I’d felt him draw my legs open, and my mind had flashed back to twelve years ago, when a very different man had prised my legs open and had tied me down, before raping me and stripping away my virginity in the most cold, cruel, painful way.

I should have told Liam about Mark Driscoll, right from the start. But I had thought I was over the impact of that event. Even though the subsequent pregnancy had been the most frightening experience of my life. Then, I’d had to make a trip away from Venice to more liberal London, to get an abortion, all alone in a cold room. Because it seemed that in Catholic Italy, God could allow a young girl to be raped, yet an abortion was an unforgivable sin.

I couldn’t tell Antonio, because to tell him was to sign Mark Driscoll’s death sentence. I didn’t care about my rapist, but I didn’t want someone I considered a brother to risk getting in trouble for me.

I couldn’t tell Enzo. He had only just come under the shadow of the accusations that had forced him to flee Venice.

And so, I’d lied to Antonio, telling him I needed to party and drink, and he’d procured a fake ID for me. I’d gone by myself to that hospital and I’d had my abortion, with no one to hold my hand through the process.

The rape had been quick, just a half hour of knifing agony through my body. The abortion didn’t take more than an hour or two, either, and I’d received a pain-killer, so this time, the anguish was just in my mind. But the scars lasted a lifetime, and they had led to this moment.

That day, twelve years ago, I’d been alone. Today, I wasn’t. I felt Liam’s hand on mine. Warm. Comforting. He was right next to me on the bed. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I should have told you.”

“What did he do to you, rabbit?” His voice was quiet.

“He tied me up and raped me.” My voice was flat. I took a deep breath and brought back the memories, because I owed Liam a long-overdue explanation. I needed to tell him my final secret. “I was seventeen. Naïve about men, because they’d always warned us at the orphanage that men only wanted one thing from women. Our bodies. And we needed to keep ourselves pure.”

I shook my head. Pleasured by Liam, I’d finally been free of all of that. The childhood indoctrination, the agonizing rape, the desire-free encounters with men that I’d forced myself to have to feel normal. “I loved to act,” I continued. “And one day, as I was walking in the Piazza San Marco, a man approached me. He told me he was a scouting agent. My face had something, he said. A certain je-ne-sais-quoi. I’d been so impressed with his French.”

His hand tightened on mine. I wanted to bury my head into his shoulders and lean against his body, but I wasn’t sure if I still had the right. Not after my reaction to his touch, and after the secret I had kept from him.

“So I followed him to his hotel room. Really dumb, right?” I shook my head. I’d been so very stupid. “And he tied me up and raped me.”

“And you became pregnant?” he asked.

I nodded. “Rapists don’t use condoms, do they?” I asked wryly. “I became pregnant. I went to London to have an abortion.” I swallowed. “I should have told you the whole story. I’m sorry. I’ll understand if you want nothing to do with me again.”

He finally made eye contact with me, pulling me onto his lap, and gazing into my eyes. “You don’t hate me, rabbit?” His expression was uncertain. “I knew you were keeping something from me. I should have never tied you up. I’m so, so sorry.” His voice broke a little at that.  

My eyes filled with tears, and I put my arms around him, drawing him into me. I felt my heart beat. I felt his chest hair tickle my breasts, but mostly, I felt the warmth and love emanating from him. “You aren’t angry with me?”

He laughed disbelievingly at that. “I could never be angry with you, Tatiana.”

“You still want me? I’m so broken.”

He kissed me, and there was a world of acceptance and love in his touch. “I have no words to describe how much I want you,” he said. “It’s more than wanting.” His hand guided mine to his heart. “I need you. I feel one-dimensional without you. I can’t even tell you how much I care about you, rabbit.”

We clung to each other. We didn’t make love that night, but our bodies twined into each other, and we created a safe space in our closeness, just for the two of us.