Mia Dolce (6 page)

She took it inside her with a groan and shiver then a
violent tremble of delight that was at once a shocking orgasm. She hung in his
arms.

He pressed his lips to her brow. “Wonderful,
bella
.
Now, now as you wished,” and he placed her once more in the chair, positioned
her as before, her full, aching cunt open to his view and the ass plug filling
her from the rear. And in a move that resounded with how liquid, how torrid she
was, he sent his fingers up inside her cunt and slowly extracted the two
Chinese balls. She gasped with the emptiness that gave her and then she watched
with incredulity as he replaced the maddening delightful toys with the blunt,
hot possession of his cock.

She came instantly. Head thrown back, her walls clenching
around him, she screamed again at his claiming.

When she came to reality, he had braced himself with two
hands to the chair back at either side of her head and was driving into her
with his own release. At some point he had put on a condom because she did not
feel the spurt of his cum.

At last he raised his head and whispered in her ear, “I have
never come so long and hard. I wanted you all morning.”

Still not sated, she turned and spoke on his lips. “Then you
must do this again because I have been wild here without you. Never let me meet
that lawyer of yours, I will tear him limb from limb.”

They both laughed at that.

Sergio looked down at their joined bodies. “I have never
seen you so red. We must see you are pleasured to the limit. So then, where
shall I fuck you now,
bella
?”

“Here, just here. Once more. I cannot bear to move just
yet.”

And so once more he did as she asked, and when they had both
benefitted, she sighed and asked, “Would you like to taste my ravioli?”

He chuckled, his fingers tweaking a nipple and his other
hand tracing her labia. “I would. The cherry here and the peach here was a very
good appetizer.”

She cuffed him and they walked to the kitchen where she
offered him a small lunch, and afterward, for dessert, he took her on the
counter. The plug he left inside her as they both swam in the pool and he loved
her naked in the afternoon sun.

Later, as they prepared dinner and he pressed out their
fresh lasagna noodles, they talked of subjects other couples might discuss
while cooking dinner. Reggie told him about her sister Donna and the happy
marriage she and her husband had. Sergio talked about his parents, their
marriage and demise. “My mother died only two years ago, my father eight years
ago. I miss them.” She told him she understood his loss. He asked her about the
TV show she negotiated with her agent.

“He has been approached by two producers, one in New York
and one from Los Angeles. They each want to make a half-hour show with me as
the star. I have no media training, so I am hesitant.”

“But you like the idea?” Sergio asked as he spread the long
noodles out on paper towels to dry.

“I do,” she confided softly. “I’m honored and willing to
learn how to do it well.”

He stared into her eyes. “You are such a beauty, darling.
You will charm them to death.”

She giggled. “I am supposed to thrill them to death with
food.”

“I know you will. Look at this feast. You prepare this,
naked and tempting, in my kitchen. How would you not charm your television
audience?”

“I would attempt to charm them with clothes on.”

He folded his arms, tilted his head and considered her ass
cheeks. “Such a shame no one will see those. Although I do like the fact I am
the only man to see them.”

She took her dish towel and swatted him on the arm. “You
tease me. What if we put
you
on TV naked?”

“People would laugh.”

She sputtered, “Do not doubt, my duke, that women would
cry.”

“You are so certain.” He shook his head ruefully.

“I would be insanely jealous too,” she admitted, bluntly
revealing her possessiveness.

He sauntered forward and took the towel from her hands to
enfold her in his arms. “I would be honored at that.” And then he kissed her
with tongue and teeth and longing nips to her chin and throat.

Something fizzled on the stove.

Reggie broke away. “My sauce!” As she stirred and turned
down the heat, she decided to change the subject and asked to see the cellars.
“They are the only part of the castle I have not seen. And you said they are
locked. Why?”

He got a fiendish look upon his handsome face. “Tomorrow, I
will show you the cellars. They are very special.”

“Really?” she asked, stirring her tomato sauce and lifting a
spoon to let him taste her concoction of tomatoes, garlic, onions and basil.

“Ah delicious, my love,” he crooned, and licked his lower
lip. “The wine cellars hold a selection from our vineyards. Chianti,
Sangiovese, Merlot. You can sample if you like.”

She stood on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “May I sample you as
well?”

He grinned at her. “Repeatedly. But you will also like the
wine.”

“I know I will.”

“But you will like the other parts of the cellar more.”

“Oh?” She began to stir fresh oregano into her ricotta for
the lasagna. “Why?”

“I will show you tomorrow morning. I must return to town to
see my lawyer there.”

“No,” she objected, her hands on her hips—and then her heart
pounded in anticipation of the Chinese balls again. “What delights do you have
for me while you are gone tomorrow?”

“I will not tell. But you will enjoy them, I am certain.”

“Terrible man to make me wait,” she taunted him.

He winked at her. “The better to love you, darling.”

She grinned back at him.
If only you could love me body and
soul. No,
she warned herself and turned away toward the stove and her
sauce. She would not think of that, hope for that.
That’s folly, Reggie.
Folly.

The next morning at eight, he awakened her from a deep
sleep. Dressed already in gray slacks and white dress shirt, he held a
breakfast tray in his hands and insisted she join him for cappuccino and
croissants on the bedroom balcony.

“The air is brisk this morning,
bella
. Wear my robe outside,”
he said curtly, and strode toward the double doors.

Tying the sash around her waist, she joined him after a
brief visit to the bathroom, a splash of water to her face and quick brush of
her teeth and hair.

The sky was dotted with clouds this morning, a few very dark
indeed. Down the mountain, many of the workers in the vineyards and olive
groves were reporting to the factory for the day. She was grateful for the use
of Sergio’s robe to preserve her modesty as well as her health.

Sergio stood at the railing, overlooking his land and his
staff. On his face was a decided frown.

She kissed his cheek and brushed his black curls back from
his forehead. “You worry over something. What is it?”

He shook his head, the lines in his brow furrowing more
before he spoke. “Business and you fill my mind.” He glanced at her and then
peered out over the landscape. “Tell me about your husband, Regina.”

His formal use of her name gave her a moment’s pause. His
endearments were what she was used to, what she craved. “What would you like to
know?”

“Did he ever ask anything of you that you could not give?”

She pulled away from Sergio now, stunned by a question that
she never would have anticipated and for which she could not discern the cause.
Still, she answered readily. “No. He never asked anything of me except to be
his wife. Loyal and honest. He was not a demanding man, and in truth, the one
thing he asked of me was to refrain from any erotic love play. And that…” she
inhaled and turned to let the Tuscan sun and air fill her mind with warm
solace, “that became easier for me with time. He was not a man who needed
sexual gratification.”

“Why did you marry him?”

“I loved him. Loved him as a twenty-two-year-old loves.
Simply, easily.”

Sergio faced her now, his hands gathering up her long
tresses and rolling his thumbs over her cheeks. “You came to me simply and
easily. Quickly too.”

“I did,” she admitted, and decided to give him more than a
trite answer. “But I did that instinctively—and to a degree against my better
judgment. It seems my instinct served me well here with you. I wanted you for
different reasons and came to want you minute after minute, for more and better
reasons than the previous ones.”

The answer erased the lines of dismay from his countenance.
“As I thought. But I had to hear you say it.”

She flowed closer to him. “What else would make you smile
this morning, my darling? What else would you ask?”

Wickedness overcame his starkly roman features. “Eat your
breakfast. Then come with me. I promised you the cellars and I will show them
to you before I leave to see the family lawyer.”

She agreed she too was in a hurry to see the cellars. So she
finished her cappuccino and pastry and would have doffed the robe but he told
her to keep it on. Securing the sash again, she walked with him through the
house, down a circular staircase to the dim, cool cellar.

The wine cellar consisted of row on row of dust-covered
bottles of the estate-bottled Sangiovesies and Chiantis of the House of Avanti.
Dating back to the earliest bottle in 1746, the numbers of bottles must have
totaled thousands.

“We sell a table version of the lesser quality,” Sergio told
her as they trailed up and down the rows, “and some we sell as cooking wine.
That product alone brings us in enough profit to make the residents of the
whole valley prosperous.”

“And the olives and the gourmet business? How do they do?”

“Extremely well. The olives and the oil have made us the
leading purveyors in Europe. In America, we are second in sales. But the
gourmet business does well here and I need a good way to promote that in the
States. I think I have found the way but I must secure the deal.” Sergio
stopped and faced her, his expression grim. “The gourmet ad campaign is the
reason I must see my lawyer this morning. I have new questions there and I must
be careful to do this correctly.”

“Then you must go and do that because your lover needs you
back here. And quickly too lest she pine away.”

“Mmmm.” He thrust his hands inside the robe. One cupped a
breast and the other threaded into the long hair of her pussy. “Shall I see how
well she pines for me?”

“Yes, do,” Reggie told him.

And he sent his talented fingers up into her cunt. “You have
more cream than a goddess.”

“Only for you, darling,” she told him with a sigh as he
stroked her to a luscious boil, leaving her primed for one of his hearty fucks.

“Come then, the room I want you to see and enjoy.” He turned
and led her along a passageway to another huge door, this one very rough-hewn,
ancient and creaking as it opened.

Inside, the wide room was even dimmer, cooler than the wine
cellar. Clean, it was a stark place. Against the side walls were various
contraptions.

First was a long wooden beam, round with the circumference
of a small drum.

“A battering ram,” Sergio informed her. “Twelfth century.
From the city-state wars between Siena and Firenze.”

“And this?” She pointed to a flat board angled at forty-five
degrees from the floor with four sets of chains and facing the only window in
the cellar.

“That is a rack.”

“Really?” Reggie ran her hands over the smooth wood. “Did
your family use this on prisoners?”

“Never. Never for torture. One of my ancestors brought it
here from a nearby estate. He bought it for his wife. Only for pleasure.”

Her jaw dropped—and she felt a thrill dart up her spine.
“This is what you wanted to show me?”

“You said you wanted chains.”

“Amazing. Yes,” she turned to him, clapping her hands, “show
me!”

“Remove the robe,” he told her, his face taut with sexual
heat. “This is done with the lover naked. But if you wish not to—”

“Do it.” She shrugged out of the garment, committed to
discover this new adventure. “Quickly.” She spread her arms out wide. “I trust
you,” she said, and meant it.

“
Bene
, my fondest wish.” He nodded once then took
from his trousers pockets the set of Chinese balls and the ass plug. “Open your
legs,
bella
. Let me insert these.”

She took a wide stance and he sank before her, his mouth
seeking out her clitoris and tickling her with his tongue. His fingers tangled
in her pussy hair and he tugged her wider. “Christ, you are so giving. I could
eat here all day but I must do this. He inserted the balls one by one, making
her groan out loud at the cool, smooth orbs inside pressed against her walls.
“Now we will bend you, darling.” And bend her he did so that her ass was up in
the air. Rubbing the plug against her juicy lips, he delighted her with
talented fingers as she gave down more cream to coat the little piece. Then
kissing her back, he fondled her tiny hole and inserted the warm blunt plug.
She stamped one foot in joyful protest but he massaged her asshole to ease her
toward delight.

Then he turned her up and around, his arms encircling her as
she swooned with the power of the balls and plug. “Back up,
bella
. Sink
back.” And he put her to the rack, chains looping loosely thorough the board at
her arms and ankles.

“I will be insane by the time you return, you realize,” she
told him, angry at his loss, his ability to walk away and thrilled that the
toys would prime her to madness for him.

“I know. And I will conclude my business as soon as I can.
You will welcome me, I do believe.”

At his smile, she grinned at him and then barked, “Get the
hell out of here now!”

“First, we will cover you, my love.” He draped the robe over
her from shoulders to toes. “Keep you warm and willing for me,
si
?”

“You could hope,
Signore
Avanti.” She tried to rub
her legs together and could not. The balls abraded her inside, the one dangling
titillated her labia unmercifully while the plug in the back filled her up to
raging excitement. “Good day to you, sir.”

How long he stayed away she could not know. The hours, the
minutes, the years, whatever it was drove her crazy with unfulfilled desire.
This experience was the opposite of yesterday’s. Today, she merely yearned for
an orgasm. She was so full but so loosely and so tantalizingly bound that she
could wiggle, undulate and moan, but try as she might she could not pleasure
herself to fulfillment. She could only stare out the little window and dream of
an orgasm in Sergio’s arms. The result was that when she heard the massive door
open again, she shouted at him, “Come now, damn you and get me out of this
thing!”

He appeared before her, his face contorted with despair. “My
god, Regina, I will never do this again. I worried
. Dio Mio
, this is not
the thing for you.” And on he went as he flung the robe away, unlocked the
chains and unwound them from her wrists and ankles. “Let me caress you, warm
you,” he repeated over and over, his voice full of self-recrimination as he
massaged her arms and legs, her thighs and neck and back.

“I am well,” she finally told him, her muscles unkinking,
her mind full of his kindness and the pleasure they gave each other. “Remove
the balls and plug.”

He did at once. “You are so wet,” he marveled as he pocketed
the items and embraced her to help her up.

She stood on shaking legs. “I did want you but it was
torture.”

He ran his hands over her face, her breasts, her hips. “We
will never do that again.” He cupped her face. “Some things are not for you, my
sweet. This is one of them.”

She smiled at him, her tension dissolving with the
frustrated anger. “Come then and make love to me in your bed. I want to feel
you in my arms in tenderness.”

They hurried up to his bedroom where once more upon his bed
he spread her out and touched her with deft care to dispel any lingering
malaise. Then as before, they spent the next hour or more delighting each other
in a harmony that had been borne in days and nights of ecstasy. She sank into
his embrace when they had both enjoyed a groaning orgasm and knew that she
would never find a man so inventive, so giving and so sweet. She had a few days
to revel in her relationship with him and she would not think beyond that. His
life and work were here in Tuscany. She had a life to go home to in New York, a
new cookbook to test recipes for and hopefully a cable television show to write
and film. She would find gratification there
. Alone, Reggie. Without Sergio.

“You look very sad,
bella.
” He traced a fingertip
down her nose. “What worries you?”

Tears sprang to her eyes and she rolled away from him.

“Regina—” he grabbed for her hand.

But she darted for the bathroom and the shower.

He was right behind her.

In the spray, she closed her eyes, leaned her forehead on
the marble wall and fought her heartache. He pressed his body to her back and
wrapped his arms around her. She melted against him and felt his cock rise as
hard as a rock as he shifted and sent it between her buttocks to slide along
her slick lips.

“You are amazing,” she sighed, and thrust her ass back to
feel him better.

“Only for you,
mia dolce
,” he ground out, and turned
her in his arms. “Look at me,” he whispered, and nudged her legs open to
receive his satisfying cock inside her hungry cunt.

She gazed at him through a fresh wash of tears and sweet
desire.

“We will not end this, Regina.”

She bit her trembling lips.

And then he rammed himself so far into her that she gasped.
“How could we?” he asked between pumps. “You belong to me.”

“Oh yes,” she shouted, clutching at his shoulders as he sank
into her with measured might. “And you to me.”

“You are so right, my love,” he said, and he pulled out of
her with a shock and then tugged her from the marble shower, wet and dripping,
sliding along the slippery tiles to the bed where he caught her up and put her
down amid the sheets. And there he sank his penis into her and laved her
breasts with such slow talent that she lay exhausted on damp linens beside his
heaving body.

“Stay here,” he ordered her after they rested a few minutes.
“I have a matter to attend to and then I will return to love you more.” He drew
the blankets over her and kissed her on the mouth. “And we will continue this
discussion.”

She sank back against the pillows and fell asleep. How long
she rested she wasn’t sure, but when she woke, the rays of the sun had shifted
to afternoon. Rain pattered against the windowpanes and a chill swept the air.
She went in search of another robe but found only a t-shirt and workout pants
of Sergio’s. She pulled them on and padded down the hall to find him. She heard
his voice and followed the sound. As she approached, she could tell he was on
the phone—and he spoke English. His speech was laden with demands and a sense
of urgency. She began to turn and leave him to his business when his words intrigued
her. She stopped.

“No, I will not permit you to offer her any less than that
amount. I want her to have the best equipment money can buy. The filming studio
in Brooklyn, I saw it last year. It is the best. You tell them to open a place
in their calendar. I do not care what it costs.”

Reggie heard Sergio punch a button. Suddenly the room was
filled with another man speaking Italian.

“Renaldo! English!” Sergio demanded. “Mr. Harmon does not
understand Italian.”

“Sergio,” the Italian-speaking Renaldo said, “you have not
the money for this. You spend too much. Because the woman is in your bed, does
not mean you must pay for her services this way!”