Page 72 of Venice Vampyr: The Beginning

After lifting the ornate rugs in the parlor and finding nothing underneath them, she abandoned the room and went back to the kitchen. Her stomach rumbled. The larder was virtually empty, but the things she’d always liked were there: a jar of olives, hard cheese, and a partial leg of dry cured ham. She inhaled and cut herself thick slices of cheese and ham and spooned a large helping of olives onto a plate.

When she devoured the first slice of ham, she realized how hungry she’d been. Within minutes, the plate was empty, and she felt much better. It was easier to resume her search with a full belly.

Her father’s study was her next destination. When she entered the room, it was dim and badly lit. While the window was unobstructed by any drapes, the early afternoon sun didn’t reach into the room: the window backed up to another home whose wall was too close, preventing the sun’s rays to penetrate at this angle. She couldn’t understand why her father had ever chosen such an unsuitable room for his study.

Bianca lit a candle and appreciated its soft glow as it brought light into the room. While the study was small, the walls were stuffed with books from top to bottom. Many were covered with dust. She sighed. It would take her hours to remove book after book to see whether anything was hidden behind them. She set the candlestick with the lit candle to one side onto a shelf, so the light flooded over her shoulder and went to work.

She’d completely forgotten how many books her father had collected during his lifetime. He’d often read to her as a child, before they’d fallen out, before he’d gotten it into his head to marry her off to the highest bidder. Bianca pushed the thoughts aside and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. The hours seemed to fly by as she handled book after book.

“What are you looking for?”

Bianca shot up from her crouching position and turned in the same instance, her heart beating frantically at the shock of being discovered. Lorenzo, dressed in breeches and a shirt which was open at the neck glowered over her, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I …” She swallowed hard, trying to buy herself some time. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

His jaw clenched. “I asked what you’re looking for.”

It appeared that he wasn’t easily dissuaded. Only her talent for acting could help her now. She thrust her chin up and pursed her lips. “If you must know …” Then she cast her eyes to the side and sighed heavily. “I was trying to find an old book my dear father read to me when I was a child.” She dropped her head toward her chest, letting out a heavy breath, sniffing in the process. “I wanted something to remember him by.”

Bianca forced herself to think of the first few days in Florence, the time when she’d had to live on the streets, the fear and the humiliation. It made the tears come easily—tears she needed now to fool Lorenzo into thinking she was mourning her father.

When she lifted her face back to him, the first tear rolled down her cheek. And with delight, she saw Lorenzo’s expression change from suspicion to compassion. Ah, yes, she could still play any man like a fiddle. They had manipulated her for long enough, now it was her turn to manipulate them.

Feeling his fingers stroke over her cheek was more than she had expected. His show of compassion took her off kilter, making her feel something she hadn’t felt in a long time: that somebody cared about her.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he whispered, his hand still stroking her cheek, his body suddenly so much closer, close enough to touch.

She inhaled his scent, the comforting smell of a strong man, a protector, somebody who would take away the pain. When his other hand came up and pulled her closer, she buried her face in his shirt, feeling his hot skin underneath. His arms came around her, pulling her in for an embrace too close to merely comfort. He pressed her against his chest and stroked his hands over her back, caressing her.

“Shh, my darling. Everything will be alright.”

She felt his lips on the top of her head, kissing her hair at the same time as his hand loosened the bun at her nape to allow her hair to cascade over her back. His fingers brushing against her neck made her shiver.

It felt so good to be in his arms, to feel protected and safe, even if it was only for a few minutes. Bianca sighed as her tears stopped flowing and raised her face to him. His eyes had an orange glow to them, the candle light reflecting in his irises more intensely than she’d ever seen in anyone’s eyes.

Without thinking, she rose on her toes and stretched toward him. His eyes widened in surprise, and a moment later his lips met hers.

Lorenzo’s spicy scent seeped into her mouth as she parted her lips for him. At first, he only teased gently, licking against her lips, briefly sweeping his tongue against her teeth, then withdrawing. Was he going to stop again? She couldn’t let that happen. She wanted to be kissed by him, to feel him devour her.

Her hands gripped the lapels of his shirt, drawing him closer. Her action elicited a deep groan from him. A second later, his hand slipped to her buttocks, and he pressed her against his loins.

Bianca gasped when she felt the hard outline of his erection pressing into her stomach and rejoiced at the same time: Lorenzo wanted her. His arousal was evidence of his desire for her. Boldly, she snaked out her tongue and slipped it between his lips, searching for her counterpart. Determined not to let him get away, she stroked against him, the texture and taste of him sending tantalizing tingles rippling along her skin and brushing over her sensitive nipples.

A shiver went through her when he responded to her by angling his head and urging her mouth to open wider. His exploration was gentle at first. Licking and stroking, he found his way, dancing with her tongue and teasing white hot sensations from her body. She was on fire.

As an experienced courtesan, she knew how to please men, and she knew how to fake her reactions to them, but with Lorenzo she didn’t need to fake any of her reactions. On the contrary, she would have had difficulty hiding them from him. Her body wasn’t her own anymore. Under the ministrations of his talented lips, every part of her body became alive with desires she’d never voiced. Desires which were only intensified with the press of his cock against her. For the first time in her life, she wanted to let herself go and respond to a man without pretense, without lies, and without holding back.

Chapter Nine

Bianca was even more pliable in his arms than the night before. It did nothing to assuage Lorenzo’s need to have her underneath him. It only fueled his desire for her. His brain had long switched off. In fact, the moment her tears had fallen and he’d taken her into his arms and felt her warmth, he’d been unable to think through his next actions. Now it was too late.

Her kiss was pure abandon, her hands in his hair an unexpected delight. And those voluptuous breasts that were crushed against his chest? They were too tempting not to touch. Without interrupting his kiss, Lorenzo drew back slightly to slide one hand over her torso and cup one breast.

She moaned into his mouth, and he soaked up her excitement, allowing her to get comfortable with his touch before he slid his thumb over the center of her breast. The nipple he encountered through the fabric was hard and stood at attention. Just how he liked it.

Eager for more, he tugged on her dress. A ripping sound alerted him to the fact that he’d been too rough and torn her bodice. But the reward was too sweet to regret the action. Lorenzo freed one breast from its confines and settled it in his palm, cradling the soft flesh as his thumb slid over the hard nipple once more.

A strangled gasp from her lips made him interrupt his kiss to take in a breath. Bianca arched her head back, thrusting her breasts closer to him. Her eyes were closed, and her lips looked swollen from his kiss. Red, moist, and sinful. His gaze dropped to her neck which she so obligingly offered to him. As if she knew what he wanted.