everything in style and despite Lilly’s aversion to luxury she has begun to come around to my way of thinking. This part of the room is a sitting area. There is a huge flat screen television facing a beige chaise longue, which is both alike and unlike the black and red ones we saw in the reception as we arrived. The hotel is a gothic dream for those of us who like it... and I do, I must admit.
Lilly throws her handbag down on the chaise longue as I go to investigate the rest of the suite. To the right is a door that leads into a toilet, black and white, beautifully designed; I smile in approval as I look through the door. Lilly kicks off her shoes and puts her feet up on the coffee table, but I refuse to let her unladylike behaviour bait me as I head through the archway that leads to the bedroom. Here there is another television at the bottom of the bed on a rich mahogany unit with a DVD player and stereo: all the media conveniences any visitor could want. The bed is plush, covered in rich brown and cream cloth, with cushions resting on the brown velvet-covered headboard. Either side of the bed are two mahogany side tables. To my left is another mahogany unit, bigger than the one holding the television. I open it to find a fridge and safe. As I close it I spot two more doors, one leading to a full sized bathroom, again in black and white, which contains a bath as well as separate double shower cubicle. Good. We’ll make use of both...
I see my hand luggage in the corner and lift it onto the bed. I withdraw my favoured candles to place them around the room. In the reception room, I hear Lilly turn on the television. The blare of different pieces of music and snatches of speech echoes through the wall as she flicks through the channels. I reach inside my pocket to pull out a lighter. Flicking it alight I go from one candle to the other until they are all lit. Twelve of them, all scented with vanilla.
Lilly peeps in through the alcove as I open the mini-bar and remove a bottle of chilled champagne. Her eyes grow round as she looks at the candlelit room.
‘What’s all this?’
The champagne cork pops free with a shrug of my thumb and forefinger and the foam bursts forth faster than the tiny glass can cope with it.
‘A celebration. We’ve been together a year.’
It seems absurd that we can gain so much pleasure out of the thought of drinking Champagne. It is a luxury after all. We can’t get drunk, a momentary tingle is all we will experience from the wine, but still a tiny flush appears in Lilly’s pale cheeks. It is both pleasure and vague embarrassment.
‘Of course I know that,’ she whispers. ‘Shocked that you do.’
‘Why?’ Her blush calls to me; my cock feels like it is drawn in her direction by some will of its own.
‘Because, I guess it just surprises me that you have such awareness of time, when you have an abundance of it.’
She moves into the room as I had hoped she would and glides to the bed, sitting down on the edge; her cream wrap-over skirt parts and I glimpse the flesh coloured hold-up stocking top that I adore so much. She makes no move to cover her bare thigh and I fall forward, hurriedly placing the champagne bottle and glass on the bedside table. My hand is on her leg and she runs her fingers swiftly up my arm, squeezing, feeling the muscles that ripple beneath the fabric of my shirt.
‘Mmmm. I never tire of feeling your strength, Gabriele.’
‘Now can I make love to you?’ I laugh.
As Lilly falls into a deep sleep, I slip quietly out of the room.
‘Doors,’ she murmurs as I leave, and I love that sometimes she talks in her sleep.
Closing the suite door quietly behind me, I move into the night, heading once more for Lucrezia and her tales of the past.
Chapter 8 – Lucrezia’s Story
Affair
Caesare took me riding often and our affair continued unchecked, unnoticed by anyone. Sometimes, he would sneak into my room at night and make love to me while
Lilly throws her handbag down on the chaise longue as I go to investigate the rest of the suite. To the right is a door that leads into a toilet, black and white, beautifully designed; I smile in approval as I look through the door. Lilly kicks off her shoes and puts her feet up on the coffee table, but I refuse to let her unladylike behaviour bait me as I head through the archway that leads to the bedroom. Here there is another television at the bottom of the bed on a rich mahogany unit with a DVD player and stereo: all the media conveniences any visitor could want. The bed is plush, covered in rich brown and cream cloth, with cushions resting on the brown velvet-covered headboard. Either side of the bed are two mahogany side tables. To my left is another mahogany unit, bigger than the one holding the television. I open it to find a fridge and safe. As I close it I spot two more doors, one leading to a full sized bathroom, again in black and white, which contains a bath as well as separate double shower cubicle. Good. We’ll make use of both...
I see my hand luggage in the corner and lift it onto the bed. I withdraw my favoured candles to place them around the room. In the reception room, I hear Lilly turn on the television. The blare of different pieces of music and snatches of speech echoes through the wall as she flicks through the channels. I reach inside my pocket to pull out a lighter. Flicking it alight I go from one candle to the other until they are all lit. Twelve of them, all scented with vanilla.
Lilly peeps in through the alcove as I open the mini-bar and remove a bottle of chilled champagne. Her eyes grow round as she looks at the candlelit room.
‘What’s all this?’
The champagne cork pops free with a shrug of my thumb and forefinger and the foam bursts forth faster than the tiny glass can cope with it.
‘A celebration. We’ve been together a year.’
It seems absurd that we can gain so much pleasure out of the thought of drinking Champagne. It is a luxury after all. We can’t get drunk, a momentary tingle is all we will experience from the wine, but still a tiny flush appears in Lilly’s pale cheeks. It is both pleasure and vague embarrassment.
‘Of course I know that,’ she whispers. ‘Shocked that you do.’
‘Why?’ Her blush calls to me; my cock feels like it is drawn in her direction by some will of its own.
‘Because, I guess it just surprises me that you have such awareness of time, when you have an abundance of it.’
She moves into the room as I had hoped she would and glides to the bed, sitting down on the edge; her cream wrap-over skirt parts and I glimpse the flesh coloured hold-up stocking top that I adore so much. She makes no move to cover her bare thigh and I fall forward, hurriedly placing the champagne bottle and glass on the bedside table. My hand is on her leg and she runs her fingers swiftly up my arm, squeezing, feeling the muscles that ripple beneath the fabric of my shirt.
‘Mmmm. I never tire of feeling your strength, Gabriele.’
‘Now can I make love to you?’ I laugh.
As Lilly falls into a deep sleep, I slip quietly out of the room.
‘Doors,’ she murmurs as I leave, and I love that sometimes she talks in her sleep.
Closing the suite door quietly behind me, I move into the night, heading once more for Lucrezia and her tales of the past.
Chapter 8 – Lucrezia’s Story
Affair
Caesare took me riding often and our affair continued unchecked, unnoticed by anyone. Sometimes, he would sneak into my room at night and make love to me while
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