Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

He quietly carried Viola upstairs to his room where he laid her on his bed. Somehow, the picture looked right: her dark blue gown contrasted against the white linen, and her long, dark hair fanned out around her head like a halo. Dante shook his head. He was getting soft. By wanting to kill herself right after she’d left his bed, she’d crushed his ego. He wouldn’t let her leave his presence until his ego was built up again and as strong as before: so it could act as a stone wall around his heart.

As he undressed her, his hands took advantage of her lush curves, caressing, cupping, squeezing everything she had to offer. After what she’d allowed him in the gondola, he could see no wrong in it. When she finally lay on his bed in the nude, he stripped himself of his clothes and joined her.

The fire in the fireplace was burning brightly and provided a comfortable warmth. He’d instructed a servant to ensure his room was well heated. He wanted her to be comfortable without the benefit of thick bed covers. Because what he had in mind was best done lying on top of them.

“Viola,” he whispered to her and planted small kisses along her mouth.

Finally, she stirred, her eyelids opening but a sliver. “Hmm?”

“Your lesson in the pleasures of the flesh isn’t over yet.” It was only fair to give her a warning. Then he slid down her body and put his hands on her thighs, pushing them apart. He settled in the space he’d created for himself.

Viola reared up. “What?” Suddenly fully awake, her eyes wide, she stared at him in shock. “Where are my clothes?” She tried to cover herself with her hands, but he pushed them away.

“If you remember, I’ve seen everything before. So, there’s no need to cover up. Now lie back and enjoy.”

Her mouth opened, then snapped shut again, her eyes searching his face for a long moment. He couldn’t tell what she was thinking, but something was going on in that pretty head of hers. When she finally lay down again, he sank his mouth onto her sex.

He inhaled deeply, wanting to drink in the enticing flavors of her body. Her curls tickled his mouth, so he shifted lower until his lips aligned with her moist cleft. Whether she was still wet from when he’d made her come in the gondola, or whether she’d creamed again because he’d stripped her naked, he couldn’t tell. But she was wet, her honey dripping from her slit.

Dante sensed her muscles tense as if she was afraid he’d hurt her. But he had no intention of doing so. All he wanted was her pleasure, merely to stroke his ego of course, he told himself.

He stuck out his tongue and lapped against the moist female folds, parting them in the process. Her plentiful juices ran over his tongue, igniting his taste buds and setting his body on fire. She tasted like a spring morning, fresh and innocent.

“Oh!” Her panted exclamation pleased him, and the fact that she relaxed her muscles at the same time was confirmation that she wanted him to continue. Not that he would have stopped at this point. The restoration of his ego was too important. And besides, licking her delightful cunt made him as hard as a board and stiffer than a morning breeze.

The delicious morsel he feasted on had no idea about the effect she had on him, and he wasn’t about to tell her. No, he’d never wanted to give a woman that kind of power over him. Most likely, his reaction to her was only temporary anyway. The only reason he felt this turned on by her was because she’d bruised his ego and made him needy for her approval. Once this issue was dealt with, she’d represent no temptation for him.

He’d had more experienced women in his bed—women who knew the most amazing things about how to pleasure a man. And he’d never said no. Viola wasn’t that kind of woman, and even if he taught her, there was no way she’d do the things he expected from a woman, especially one who wanted him to stick around for a while.

Viola’s soft moan drifted to his ears, and he increased the pressure of his tongue on her soft flesh. Lapping up her cream, he swiped his tongue upwards toward the little bundle of flesh he’d teased with his fingers earlier. He’d been surprised at how responsive she’d been to his touch and how easy it had been to find the right rhythm for her to climax so violently. He could still feel the tremors that had racked her frame. And even now, he felt a shudder go through his own body at the memory of it.

Her pearl was swollen, more so than it had been earlier. When he captured it in his mouth and stroked his tongue over it lightly, she twisted under his hold, her breaths coming in shallow pants. From the corner of his eyes he could see her hands fisting in the sheets, her knuckles nearly white from the intensity with which she seemed to fight against her body’s reactions.

It only made him work harder. With one hand, he spread her wider, opening her up to him more fully. With one finger of the other hand, he teased along her slit without entering her.