A Thief in Venice by Tara Crescent Read Free Book Online

sweetness?” he asked quietly, seeing my shudder.
    “Where are you going to put them?” I asked him. There was trepidation in my voice.
    “Your pussy, Lucia,” he said. His eyes were intent on me. “Okay?”
    I nodded. “I can’t take them anywhere else, just on my pussy and my breasts,” I admitted.
    He smiled at me. “My intent is not to make you shudder with pain, little thief, it is to make you ache with pleasure.” He sat at the foot of the bed, between my wide-open legs, and teased a clothespin into my dripping pussy. I shivered and groaned.
    “You don’t have to ask for permission,” he said to me. “Come whenever you feel like, sweetness.”
    Oh dear. Something made me think that I was in for the ride of my life.
    He slid a finger inside my dripping pussy. “One finger,” he said. He pulled it out, and then, a slightly increased pressure on the walls of my pussy. “Two now. How many fingers would you like, Lucia?”
    Ah crap. I was going to have to beg; to reveal my darkest desires to Antonio. “More,” I whispered, my eyes closed in shame.
    He chuckled quietly. “How many more, little thief?”
    All of them. My darkest unfulfilled desire, but I wouldn’t ask for it, not yet. That was an intimacy that we hadn’t yet earned. “Two more,” I begged instead, and watched his eyes heat up with pleasure.
    “Sweet little thief,” he muttered, and pulled his fingers out. I felt pressure at the entrance of my pussy and a dull ache as he pushed four fingers into my body, and the walls of my vagina clenched automatically around his fingers. He hissed. “Ah Lucia, I can feel every quiver of your body.” He thrust his fingers in and out of me for a few minutes, as my vagina stretched to accommodate the invasion.
    “Now, count them as I put them on,” he said, his eyes meeting mine.
    “One,” I whispered, as the first clothespin pinched on my outer pussy lip. I whimpered as the ache spread through my body, and my breasts throbbed in response. “Two,” I winced, as the second clothespin was pressed on the same lip, slightly lower. “Three,” I groaned, as the third was added. “Antonio,” I begged.
    In response, he pushed his fingers into me, almost to his thumb. His other hand strummed my clitoris, and I crashed into my first orgasm. As I shuddered and clenched around him, three clothespins were quickly placed on the other pussy lip.
    “Four, five and six,” he said evenly.
    “Four, five, six,” I repeated dutifully. My brain was a fog. I was still shuddering from the strength of the climax that had ripped through me. He pushed his fingers in and out of my pussy, and my hips arched as my body responded to him. “Again,” he said intently, his other hand finding my clitoris again, and I obediently crashed into my second orgasm.
    “Please, please, please,” I begged mindlessly. His fingers moved away from my clitoris as the quaking in my body eased, but his other hand still pumped my pussy. I could hear myself make a keening, moaning noise of ecstasy. Awareness had fled from me. At this moment, all that mattered was his fingers in my pussy. He controlled me. He controlled the ache in my pussy and in my breasts. He controlled my pleasure. He controlled my pain. I was his, in every way possible.
    I crashed, unbidden, into my third orgasm, and then lay, limp, drained by the pleasure that had flooded through my body. Dimly, I was aware of his fingers pulling out. The clothespins and nipple clamps were removed and the rope binding my breasts was unravelled. And then, I was pulled into Antonio’s hard body, and his hands ran over me, soothing every aching inch, until serenity returned.
    ***
    He cradled me into his body, and I remained there for a few minutes, my head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart.
    The silence between us grew. It was a companionable silence and I didn’t want to break it.
    He finally spoke. “Will you stay the night, Lucia?” he asked me.
    I shook