Bianca by Bertrice Small Read Free Book Online Page A

told him I must be certain such behavior was proper. Is it?”
    Orianna sighed softly. “Yes, it is. He has signed the marriage agreement, and but for the Church’s blessing, you are already his wife. You must allow him to have his way.”
    “Oh,”
Bianca responded, not certain she liked the idea of caresses, and as for kisses . . . but there was no help for it. Her mother said it was allowed, and so she must bear it. And would probably get used to it in time. Her mother did not seem to mind her father’s endearments.
    The next morning, Sebastiano Rovere appeared to escort Bianca and her mother to Mass. Her first appearance in the doorway of her father’s house brought a cheer from the young men gathered in the piazza. It died as Florence’s most famed lawyer stepped out behind her and took her arm. Together they crossed the piazza with her mother and entered the church. When they exited an hour later, there was a larger crowd of young men, but they were silent. Then one caught sight of the large, deep red ruby betrothal ring Sebastiano had slipped on Bianca’s finger when Mass had concluded. A hiss and a hum vibrated through the crowd, followed by a sound that resembled mourning.
    The lawyer smiled, well pleased. While her family did not intend to make a formal announcement until a few evenings from now, it would be known throughout Florence by the noon hour that Sebastiano Rovere was to marry Bianca Pietro d’Angelo. He expected the crowds to lessen over the next few days, and they did, as Florence realized there was no hope. The most beautiful virgin in the city was to wed a powerful and important man, which, of course, was just as it should be.
    Bianca could see the disappointment upon the faces of all the young men who had so faithfully paid her their court over the last few months. She felt sorry for them, and couldn’t help but wonder if her fate would have been different if Sebastiano had not come into her life—if her brother Marco had not been such a fool. When Bianca put the whole situation into perspective, it was ridiculous. To think that the accidental death of an unknown courtesan had catapulted her into the arms of a man she did not want to wed.
    He returned them from Mass but came back that evening to take Bianca deep into the gardens once more. “Did you speak with your mother?” he asked her, and she knew exactly what it was he sought to know.
    Bianca nodded. “But, please,
signore
, I beg of you, do not hasten me.”
    “You belong to me now,
cara mia
,” he purred at her. Then he stopped, and turned the girl to face him. “I am going to kiss you,” he told her. “You will open your mouth,
cara
, and give me your tongue when I do.”
    It was a startling command, but before she had a moment to question it, he was kissing her. He held her tightly, her breasts pressing flat against the velvet of his robe. His tongue slid along her lips, encouraging her to obedience, and Bianca opened her mouth for him. Immediately his fleshy organ began stroking her tongue, exploring her mouth. She gagged with the shock of the invasion, but he did not release her. His kiss grew more lustful, deepening, as Bianca struggled for air, for it seemed he had sucked it all from her body. Her small palms pushed against his chest, and she grew faint, sagging in his arms. She gasped deeply, drawing several breaths into her lungs again, and to her shock his attentions continued.
    Bending his head, he began pressing kisses on the swell of her small breasts as she attempted to recover herself. His wet mouth seemed everywhere, and then a hand pushed past the fabric of her neckline to pull one of her breasts free. He groaned as he stared at the small, perfectly round globe in his hand. Then his mouth closed over her helpless nipple, tugging fiercely. Her fragrance surrounded him and drove him wild with raging desire. He knew he had to stop soon or he would commit a forcible act. But she was so delicious. So ripe for his