Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

She was spread out before him for his pleasure. He couldn’t wait any longer. Dante nudged his cock forward, pushing her moist fold apart. “More.”


“Everything,” he mumbled. “I’ll give you everything.” And then slowly, without haste, he drove into her. Her channel stretched, accommodating him, yet squeezing him like a tight glove at the same time. This was what heaven was like.

When he was balls deep inside her, she gasped. He stilled his movement and watched for her reaction.

Viola turned her head and looked back at him. “Dante,” was all she said, but the way she said it with her breath rushing from her lungs, her lips glistening, her cheeks flushed, he knew everything would be alright. Her eyes confirmed it. The desire in them was undeniable.

“Viola, my sweet.”

He sliced into her, and for a few agonizing seconds he thought he’d spill instantly. But he couldn’t allow that, because he needed more from her than just a quick romp. He needed to look into her eyes and kiss her, know that she saw him, that she knew it was him, who made love to her.

Dante pulled himself out of her, ignoring her disappointed sigh, and rolled her onto her back before he thrust back into her. “I need to see you.”

Not giving her a second’s reprieve, he kissed her red lips and angled his head to capture more of her. She responded to him by stroking her tongue against his, inviting him into the delicious caverns of her mouth.





Chapter Fourteen




Dante’s kiss brought her back to reality, and for once, reality was more beautiful than her fantasy. This was not like the coupling she’d experienced with him that first night in the dingy inn he’d taken her to. Neither was this like the things they’d done over the last three days, the touching, kissing, caressing. This was everything and more.

This time, Viola felt no pain. Her body accepted him, the moisture that had already oozed from her channel allowing him easy entry despite his impressive girth. And he’d taken his time, slowly inching forward as if he’d been ready to pull out the moment she voiced a concern. But it had been perfect.

The fullness that she experienced and that made all her nerve endings tingle was different from the way her body felt when he touched her with his mouth and fingers. His cock inside her made her feel complete. She couldn’t describe it any other way. And she wanted more of it.

When Dante severed the kiss, she gave him a startled look. “Something wrong?”

He smiled the most wicked smile she’d ever seen him unleash. “No. Just keep your eyes open. I want you to see who you’re making love to.”

The insistence in his voice surprised her and made her look at him with different eyes. Had something changed between them? Suddenly, he seemed more than just the tutor he’d become. Now he was simply a man whose eyes told her that he intended to take his own pleasure without holding back—and without leaving her behind.

A shiver went through her body at the underlying promise in his regard. She couldn’t tear herself away from the sight. When she buried her hands in his hair and pulled him to her for another kiss, he started thrusting into her in a slow and steady rhythm. His tongue explored her in the same rhythm, thrusting, then withdrawing, mimicking the action of his shaft.

With every movement, her body’s temperature turned higher. Sweat built on her forehead and neck. Her heart beat frantically, faster and more erratic than it ever had before, as if it was racing toward a finish line.

Her womb clenched, and she was certain his cock reached that deep with every thrust. She undulated her hips, wanting to increase the pressure, slamming against his body as he plunged into her. A rumbling moan came from his lips as he ripped them from her mouth. “Oh God, Viola, you’re going to rob me of my control.”

But he didn’t slow or ease his movements. Rather, they increased. Their hips gyrated against each other, harder each time, making her body hum and her pearl tingle with excitement. She knew the signs of her body now. Dante had taught her well. She knew that the tension that now built in her sex, the heat that shot through her body as he filled her and stretched her, was the same sensation she had whenever he licked or touched her center of pleasure.

“Oh, yes, Dante, yes, please, more.”

And he gave her more. He rode her harder, took her with more force, stretching her further than she thought her body was capable of. With his lips, he did the same: he captured her mouth as if he was a conqueror intent on claiming a new continent for himself. His hands stroked wherever they could reach: her face, her breasts, her neck. As if he couldn’t get enough of her, just like she couldn’t let go of him.

Dante’s hair was wet from sweat, rivulets of moisture running down his neck and chest, bathing her in it, her breasts sliding against him, her sensitive hard nipples burning from the touch. Nothing had ever felt this good.