Venice Vampyr - The Beginning

What either Dante or Raphael did to make a living was unclear. But they both seemed ridiculously wealthy. Which made the fact that they shared a house very curious.

A new wave of pain interrupted her thought process and made her grip the sofa. She managed to sit before the pain brought her to her knees. She closed her eyes, thankful that even during the day the servants keep the shades drawn, allowing only minimal light into the house. While she’d found it odd at the beginning, she was grateful for it now, because light seemed to make her headaches worse.

Viola leaned back against the pillows and inhaled and exhaled slowly. Whether it was her breathing or the effect of the pill she’d swallowed, the pain waned and simmered down to a dull ache, which—while not pleasant—was bearable. It allowed her to let her mind drift back to Dante.

She’d been fortunate to meet him. Despite the initial pain he’d caused her—which she realized any man would have probably caused—she couldn’t have found a better lover to introduce her to the wonderful pleasures men and women could give each other. Initially, she’d been embarrassed by her body’s reaction to him, and by what she’d allowed him to do. But considering her unique situation, she had pushed those thoughts aside.

She had nothing to lose. Nothing that was important to her anyway. Her reputation meant nothing. It wasn’t like she had a long life ahead of her during which to regret the loss of her virginity or the debauched life she found herself living: sharing the home and bed of a stranger who, even if she lived, was never going to offer for her. Not when she’d been a virgin, and certainly not now after all the things she’d done. No man would want a soiled woman like her—not for a wife anyway.

Viola shook her head, trying to push the stupid thoughts away. She shouldn’t think of marriage and all the things that came with it when she knew it was outside her reach. She should be grateful: at least she’d known true bliss in the arms of a man, a man so passionate, it made her knees weak and her heart flutter every time he raked that lusting look over her that told her that he wanted to eat her alive.

For a few more days, she would enjoy what he was giving her so freely. She would soak it up and cocoon herself in the sensations Dante conjured up in her. But she knew it couldn’t last. Already now, she felt the pain in her head increasing. Maybe the end was coming sooner than her physician had expected. Her plan to end her own life before she was unable to take control of her own body was still in place. She would execute it when she knew the inevitable was coming.

***

Dante turned in the sheets, his hands reaching around him to pull Viola into his arms. But the bed was empty. He opened his eyes, a flash of true disappointment hitting him out of nowhere. After having experienced the most amazing sex in his life in Viola’s arms, he wanted those arms around him again. Now. Instantly. His hunger for her was even stronger than his thirst for blood. And considering he hadn’t fed in two nights and was close to being famished, that was quite a revelation for him.

He rolled onto his back and simply stared at the ceiling. What was happening to him? He’d never been the kind of man who spent night after night with the same woman. He liked variety. He loved all kinds of different women.

After last night, he knew his ego was firmly back in place, and the guilt that had plagued him for hurting her the first time had been wiped away by Viola’s enthusiastic declaration that she wanted to do it again. And they’d done it again. And again. And again until he’d lost count. And every time, she’d looked at him with those sparkling eyes and smiled like a kitten that had just discovered an endless bowl of warm milk.

His chest swelled at the thought that he’d been the one who’d put that smile on her beautiful face. Dante grinned. He wanted to do it again, because he couldn’t get enough of seeing her smile. Strangely enough, the thought didn’t send him running for cover as if the sun was about to rise. Maybe spending more than one night with the same woman wasn’t quite as bad as he’d always thought. For one thing, he knew her body so well by now that he could make her come apart whenever he set his mind to it—which was often.

Maybe his brother Raphael had had the right idea by settling down and marrying a good woman. He seemed happy, and by what Dante had briefly seen through the mirror the night before, their sex life certainly wasn’t lacking despite the familiarity they must by now be experiencing. He’d never thought about it before. Well, ideas like these were premature anyway. Maybe his infatuation with Viola would quickly fizzle out now that he’d finally fucked her so thoroughly.