A Thief in Venice (A BDSM Romance Novel)

By Tara Crescent

OceanofPDF.com
 Text copyright © 2014 Tara Crescent
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or
mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems,
without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a
reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents

either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any
resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely
coincidental.

OceanofPDF.com
My eternal gratitude to Jim, who pre-read and edited this novel.
Cover Design by James, GoOnWrite.com.

OceanofPDF.com
Prologue
Antonio:
My lips narrowed with annoyance as I listened to the report Giovanni was
making.
“It took us how long to discover this?” There was a bite to my tone, a bite
that made Giovanni take a nervous half-step back.
“Apologies, Antonio,” Giovanni rumbled. “The first few years, she took
nothing of great value. It was only this time that the theft was brought to
our attention.”
I studied the pieces of paper in front of me with a frown. This art thief was
some kind of modern-day Robin Hood. She targeted paintings that had
almost certainly been stolen, and then she returned the pieces to the Doge’s
Palace.
“All the robberies are on the same day each year,” Giovanni pointed out.
“No other robberies. Just the one robbery a year, every July 29.”
“You said she.” My voice was crisp. “How do you know it’s a woman?”
Giovanni pushed forward a grainy photo. “One of the cameras inside the
palazzo took this image before it shorted out.”
I surveyed the picture. It showed an outline of a slim body with lush
breasts. Definitely a woman.
“Any other leads?” Giovanni would not appear before me without more.
My second-in-command was competent and ruthless, and non-guild
thievery was a problem we took seriously. It was a delicate dance. Just
enough thieving so that the police could keep their jobs, but not enough to
make the populace rise in revolt.
“There’s also this picture, taken from a camera outside a coffee shop near
the palazzo, a few minutes after the robbery. We can see a face of a woman.
We aren’t sure if it is the thief, but we are trying to run matches to
determine who she is. No answer yet.”
I looked at the picture. The woman was wearing a faded sweatshirt with a
hood. The hood was up, revealing only a stray tendril of dark hair. Her
sparkling green eyes were looking right at the camera. She looked like a
tourist, right down to the unfolded map in her hands.
Something was tickling the back of my mind. A faint feeling that I had seen
this woman before; a memory of a face stricken with grief. I focused on that
memory and let it rise to the fore. I had been trained never to forget a face.
The memory would come in time.
And then, I had it. I pulled my laptop towards me and ran a quick search.
Paolo Petrucci. Date of death. July 29. Teresa Petrucci. Date of death. July
29. I remembered the girl, then a stricken twenty-one year old, at the
funeral of her parents. Sorrow etched in her face and grief in her eyes.
Lucia Petrucci.
I did another quick search for Lucia and found what I was looking for. She
was an assistant curator at the Doge’s Palace. I laughed aloud.
“I know who she is.” My anger faded, to be replaced by amusement and
anticipation. “Gio, keep this to yourself. Don’t let anyone know. I’m going
to take care of this personally.”
I could see Giovanni study me.
“Sure thing, Antonio,” he said. We moved on to the next item on the
agenda.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 1
Lucia:
I remembered the day I’d first seen that particular painting of the Madonna.
I had been checking the collections of the Doge’s Palace, making sure the
archive catalogues were up to date. My eyes had slid over the painting, and
my gaze had been held, transfixed, to the small image.
The ‘Madonna at Repose’ was an obscure painting - artist unknown - from
the 17th century; an unlikely piece to end up in one of Venice’s premier
museums. But it was unbelievably beautiful. In it, the Madonna was dressed
in everyday clothes, sitting on a chair, relaxed, seemingly at repose, serene.
There was something in that picture, in the serenity of her eyes that had
captivated me.
I had reached for the piece, trying to look at it more closely and to see if
there were any clues about who had painted it. It was then that I realized,
while studying it carefully, that it was a fake.
I’d made a couple of discreet inquiries, trying to find out who could have
stolen a painting from the Doge’s Palace vaults, but nothing came of it. It
had been the merest chance that I’d discovered the location of the real
painting. A Facebook image of a party in Venice at the palazzo apartment of
some middle-aged lawyer had captured a bit of the painting in the
background. It could be another fake, of course, but the painting was
obscure. It was much more likely to be the real thing.
And if it was the real thing, I was determined to steal it back for the
museum.
***
I sat in the coffee shop near the palazzo, and sipped my espresso. This
building was surprisingly secure. There was a guard in the lobby, one who
was actually awake throughout his shift. The windows were connected to a
sophisticated alarm system. The roof had cameras. The basement was
impenetrable. I could have tried to break the security, but it would be
complicated and risky.
There was an easier way. It could simply be an inside job. I normally tried
to avoid these, because inside jobs increased my risk exponentially. But I
had become dangerously obsessed by the Madonna.
And so, I had been working night shifts at the cleaning company that
cleaned the lawyer Marco Rossi’s apartment for the last week, and I’d
struck gold today. The lawyer’s usual cleaner had called in sick, and I was
asked to cover the late afternoon shift. I’d quickly called the museum and
told them I couldn’t come in – opportunities like this had to be seized.
I held a key in my hand, and all I had to do was walk in. I got up, grabbed
my backpack, smoothed my functional grey skirt and straightened my grey
blouse. Cleaning crew attire. The backpack was important; it held the
museum’s forged copy of the Madonna. I intended to swap the paintings,
for no other reason than to delay the discovery of the crime.
Twenty minutes later, I was done. The paintings had been swapped, and I
walked out the door into the late afternoon. I had taken a quick look, and I
was reasonably sure the original was in my backpack. Further tests would
have to take place at the museum.
Lost in thought, I was waiting for the light to turn green to cross the street. I
didn’t notice the black car besides me until it had pulled up right next to me,
cutting me off. The door opened and a man got out. A man whose picture
I’d seen many times. He had dark hair, and piercing blue eyes. A face
darkened with stubble, as if shaving was a chore for other men. “Lucia
Petrucci,” he said, his voice silken. I sensed danger in each syllable.
I looked up, and fear coursed through me as I recognized him. Antonio
Moretti. Head of the Thieves Guild.
“There’s nowhere to run, Lucia,” he said, his voice soft. “Get in the car.”
I looked around and there was indeed nowhere to run. I got into the car.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 2
Lucia:
I was trying to keep the terror at bay as Antonio slid next to me, and despite
the fear, I noticed his hard body; noticed the feel of his thighs as they came
into contact with mine. I gulped.
“I don’t like being stolen from, Lucia.” Antonio’s voice was steel.
“How do you know who I am?” I countered. Breathe, Lucia, breathe, I told
myself, as I tried not to give into the crippling fear. There had to be a way
out of this situation.
He laughed in sheer amusement. “I think, a better question would be, what
are you going to do with me?”
I was trying not to ask that question, because that way lay only fear. The
Guild did not take non-guild thievery lightly. I was in for broken limbs, at
the least, and if Antonio was truly angry, I could end up in the canal.
For seven years, I’d stolen a painting each year, as a tribute to my dead
parents. My parents were Guild thieves, skilled at their craft, among the
best in the business, until death took them prematurely. My mother, a swift,
ravaging cancer. My father – a bullet in his brain, the day my mother died.
And I was left alone in my grief.
The first few years, I hadn’t done any preparation, reckless in my sorrow.
But as the sorrow eased with the passage of time, I wanted to do some good
with my tribute. I sought out artwork that had almost certainly been stolen,
and I returned it back to the Museum, which could track down the
provenance of the pieces and send them to their rightful owners.
I’d done all of this without involving the Guild. They wouldn’t approve of
my do-gooder tendencies. The Guild was only concerned with profit. But
now, I sat in the car next to the Head of the Thieves Guild, and I was in
serious trouble.
“Okay,” I said, trying for an airiness that I did not feel. “How do you know
who I am, and what are you going to do with me?”
His lips twitched. I’d seen his photo before, and I’d always thought he was
attractive, but the pictures did not do him justice. There was a vibrancy to
him, an ease in the way he carried himself and a hint of danger. He was
perilously sexy.
“I was at the funeral of your parents,” he said. Oh. I didn’t remember him,
but I remembered very little from that dreadful day.
“And what are you going to do with me?” My voice was steady, much
steadier than I felt on the inside.
“A choice.” His voice was hard. “You have stolen from me. You can either
take your chances with the Cartozzi brothers,” he gestured to the two men
sitting up front, one driving, the other in the passenger seat, “or you can get
punished by me.”
I looked at him. There was heat in his eyes as they ran all over my body,
assessing what lay under my drab clothing, and I suddenly realized what
being punished by him would entail.
But then again, the Cartozzi brothers would break each and every one of my
fingers as a warning to refrain from stealing from the Guild.
“You,” I said. It wasn’t like I had any real choice.
***
Antonio:
I held back a smile and tried not to react at the way Mario Cartozzi’s
shoulders had stiffened. The Cartozzi brothers were classic mama’s boys.
They’d beat a man black and blue without the slightest hesitation, but a
woman? They would be putty in her hands.
She didn’t know that, of course. All she knew was their reputation. And so
she picked me.
When I had realized why she was stealing, I was inclined to be sympathetic,
inclined to approach her and warn her to either stop, or ask for Guild
permission. But then I watched her, laughing with her friends, and I
discovered I wanted this woman.
So I set a trap for her when I heard she was looking for the Madonna. The
right photo, taken by a seemingly drunk party-goer, posted on the Facebook
wall of a friend. Mario Rossi was the perfect decoy, unassuming and
middle-aged. I’d even arranged the job at the cleaning service.
And now, she was huddled against the door of the car, trying to keep out of
my reach. I grinned to myself. I was going to have some fun with this girl.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 3
Lucia:
We pulled up in front of an anonymous building somewhere in Venice. I
could smell the sea, but darkness had fallen while we were in the car, and I
couldn’t see where I was.
“Come on in, Lucia,” Antonio said. His voice was amused. I didn’t see
what was funny about raping me, but I shrugged and followed him in into
one of the industrial warehouses he’d indicated. The Cartozzi brothers
didn’t follow us in. They were standing guard outside.
“First, my Madonna.” His voice was even, but there was an undertone to it.
The Madonna was important to him. He stretched out his hand for my
backpack and I handed it to him. It wasn’t like I had any other options.
He swiftly turned on the lights in the place, opened my backpack and pulled
out the Madonna. I used this as a chance to study the warehouse he’d
brought me to, and I almost laughed aloud. I was expecting a torture
chamber, but this looked like the office of a prosperous banker, comfortably
furnished with a desk, a set of couches and a well-stocked liquor cabinet in
a corner.
Antonio had not moved while I was looking around. He was gazing at the
Madonna with a rapt look on his face. Finally, he took a deep breath, and
looked at me. “You haven’t damaged it,” he said. “That’s good.”
“I’m a curator,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I actually know how to handle
artwork.”
He grinned at me and gestured to the bar in a corner. “Make yourself
comfortable, help yourself to a drink,” he said. “I’ll be right back.”
He walked away through a door in the side with my Madonna, and I was
startled at my sudden, swift sense of loss. I wanted that painting. There was
a peace in the eyes of the Madonna that I needed to lose myself in. And
now, it was out of reach, and I still had the ordeals of the oncoming night to
get through.
I helped myself to a stiff whiskey; I was going to need it.
 ***
Antonio walked over to the bar when he came back out, poured himself a
shot of whiskey as well. He settled down on the couch and stretched out his
legs. He looked completely relaxed.
“Well, let’s get it over with,” I said, my voice harsh. I was perched on the
edge of the couch opposite him, and I was a bundle of nerves.
He raised a silent eyebrow at me. “In a hurry, Lucia?” he asked. His voice
slid over my name with a caress, and my insides fluttered at his tone. It had
been a long time since a man had said my name that way. With heat and
with the promise of passion.
“I’ve never been raped before.” My voice was still harsh. “Might as well
get it over with.”
He looked startled for a second, before hilarity flooded his eyes, and his lips
compressed. I could see him trying to hold back his laughter.
“You think I’m going to rape you? As punishment?” He sounded amused.
“Lucia, Lucia. Trust me, it isn’t difficult for me to find women to fuck, and
you’ll need to beg me before I fuck you.”
He continued, sipping his drink, his eyes still sparkling with mirth. “No,
Lucia, you are going to get punished. I’m going to bend you over that desk,
and spank you hard for thinking you can steal from me without any
consequences.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 4
Antonio:
She thought I was going to rape her? No. I wanted her, this brave little thief
who was reckless enough to steal from me. But I wanted her to beg. I
wanted her to moan out my name as I thrust into her wet, willing pussy, and
I wanted her to tighten her arms around me as she exploded.
I wanted her to crave it.
I was being dangerously soft-hearted with her. Broken limbs were called for
in this situation, not a sore bottom. But the idea of her bent over my desk,
her hands held behind her back, as I spanked that ass? That image made me
break all my rules and administer her punishment myself.
“Let’s get going, Lucia,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. I finished my
drink in a gulp, got to my feet and offered my hand out to her. “Take off
your shirt and your skirt please, and bend over the desk.”
***
Lucia:
The atmosphere changed. It was now charged with erotic anticipation. My
insides tightened, and this time, it wasn’t from fear.
For reasons as yet unknown to me, Antonio Moretti wasn’t angry. Had he
been angry, we wouldn’t be in his office; the Cartozzi brothers would have
been systematically breaking my bones to give me a clear warning that my
behaviour was not going to be tolerated.
This spanking was definitely in the ‘fun and games’ category. And I liked
the idea of spanking games with the dangerously attractive Antonio Moretti.
I put my hand into his, allowing him to pull me up. He tugged forward a
little, and I stumbled against his rock hard body. My insides clenched once
more, and heat rose in my eyes as his hands wrapped around my waist,
steadying me.
“How many drinks have you had?” he asked me, looking into my eyes.
There was an unexpected concern there, a concern that warmed my insides.
“Just the one,” I replied.
He smiled. “In that case, take off the shirt, Lucia,” he said evenly.
My hands moved to unbutton my top, his hands following mine. We
alternated buttons, his fingers caressing each bit of flesh as it came into
view. I was panting when I was done, his hands pushing the shirt off my
shoulders, dropping it carelessly on the floor.
When I had dressed this morning, I’d just pulled an ordinary black bra and
pair of black panties from my underwear drawer. Nothing fancy, I was
going to be working a full day at the museum, followed by a night shift
cleaning apartments. But as my shirt fell to the floor, I heard his swift intake
of breath as he took me in, and I felt like the most beautiful woman in the
world as I saw the lust in his eyes.
“Now the skirt, Lucia,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving mine.
I reached for the hook in the skirt and lowered the zipper. His hands were
on my hips, pushing it down, and as his fingers touched my bare skin, every
nerve ending in my body tingled in response.
The skirt dropped to the floor and I stepped out of it.
“Should I bend over the table?” I asked him. I could hear the longing in my
voice, and my voice was soft with need.
“Not yet, Lucia. Take off the bra and panties, please.” His voice was firm. I
gulped and obeyed.
When I was naked, he took my hands in his, lead me over to his desk. He
pushed me down on it firmly. My breasts were crushed against the cool
glass top, my hair cascaded all over in a wild, tangled mess, and Antonio
firmly held my hands behind my back.
“Beautiful,” he said, his voice husky. “Lucia, I want you to keep your hands
where they are.”
“Yes, Antonio,” I said dutifully. Lust had taken over and I was putty in his
hands.
He moved next to me and put one hand in the small of my back. Pleasure
coursed through me as I responded to the firmness of his hand. He made me
feel soft, fragile, and very, very feminine.
His hands slid over my ass, kneading the flesh, stroking me and touching
me. I shifted slightly. Arousal coursed through my veins and pulsed through
my body. I parted my legs slightly in mute invitation.
He laughed. “You’ll need to beg me for that, Lucia,” he said. I groaned into
the top of the desk, unable to keep silent in the face of my need.
“How many spanks, do you think? You’ve been stealing for seven years.
Ten for each year?”
I groaned again, and this time, there was a trace of fear in my moan.
Seventy hard spanks, and I wouldn’t be able to sit down the next few days
without discomfort. But I didn’t complain. I was in no position to complain,
and besides, I wanted this too.
“Lucia. You can moan, you can cry out, you can scream. But you must keep
still, and you must keep your hands where they are. Do you understand? If
those hands move, we start again.” His voice was very hard. I gulped and
nodded.
Whack. His hand came down my left buttock, hard. I whimpered as I felt
the sting, but his hand calmly stroked the sore spot, replacing the pain with
a rush of pleasure.
Whack. Now on the right buttock, just as hard. I squirmed a little as the
pain flowed through me. Whack. Whack. Two quick spanks, one on each
buttock, targeting the same spots again. I writhed in pain and moaned.
“Hush, Lucia,” he said, his voice gentle. “Take your punishment bravely.”
“Yes, Antonio,” I said, through clenched teeth, but there was compliance in
my voice. I would be brave for him.
Whack. Whack. Whack. Three quick blows on the base of my ass. I
groaned again, as the heat from my rapidly reddening cheeks radiated
through my body.
“So beautiful,” Antonio muttered. “Hold still, baby.”
The blows fell furiously now, and my flesh felt like it was on fire. I floated
in a haze of pain and pleasure. Pain from the hard spanks, pleasure from the
way he stroked me between the blows, ran his fingernails over the
throbbing flesh, causing me to moan as every nerve ending in my body
responded to his touch.
My pussy dripped as I imagined the way I looked. Breasts pushed into the
glass table, legs slightly parted, my hands clasped submissively behind me.
His hand was pressed into the small of my back, holding me in place. His
other hand kneaded my throbbing buttocks. I shifted my legs almost
involuntarily, parting them still further. I wanted him to touch me, to push
his fingers into my dripping pussy, to take me and lay claim on me.
“You’ll beg for it before we are done tonight,” he said quietly. Jerk. He was
almost cocky in his confidence, but then again, he could see the juices drip
down from my pussy and smell my arousal. He had every reason to be
cocky.
He resumed spanking me, the strokes falling evenly on my exposed ass. I
squirmed but didn’t move, careful to keep my hands securely locked behind
my back. I just let the feelings from his hand sweep through me, let the
sound of the blows fuel my arousal. I felt myself push my ass into his hand,
silently begging for more.
I could feel my ass redden and throb. His strokes were random and I
couldn’t tell where or when the next one was going to land. I moaned. I was
so close to begging and pleading with him to push into my pussy. I was so
in need of his touch on me.
The cadence of the spanks changed slightly. His hand gentled, the spanking
had a definitely erotic flavour now, and I responded in kind, wiggling my
ass against his hand, pushing it towards him in invitation.
“Antonio,” I groaned, when he didn’t respond to my invitation.
“Lucia,” he replied, his voice amused. “Something you want to ask me?”
“Touch me,” I begged.
“Touch you where, sweetness?”
“Touch my pussy,” I begged again.
“Not going to happen, baby.” His voice was level.
“Why not?” I winced when I heard the whine in my tone, my need clearly
evident in my voice.
“Sweet Lucia,” he said, laughing at me. “You stole from me. Why would I
reward you? I think you should try to make amends instead.”
I turned to look at him, and I smiled at him and licked my lips. I could play
this game. “Antonio,” I said, not bothering to hide the need in my voice.
“Will you put your cock in my mouth?”
He laughed openly and appreciatively. He removed his hand from the small
of my back, opened a desk drawer and retrieved two lengths of rope. “Still
want to play, baby?” he asked, his eyes on me.
But I was drowning in lust and longing and I was not afraid of the rope.
“Yes,” I moaned. “I want to play.”
He pulled me onto the table so that my entire body was resting on the
surface. My knees were bent upward and my ankles were quickly tied to my
hands in an efficient hogtie.
I should have felt fear, but my body only tingled as I felt his expertise. His
calm control acted as further fuel for my arousal. He spanked me as he tied
me down, hard and fast, and the sound echoed around the room, as did the
sound of my answering moans.
“Do you want me to put my cock in this pussy, Lucia?” His voice was hard,
as his fingers touched my dripping wetness for the first time. I jumped
slightly in my bindings, as the electricity of his touch pulsed through my
body. He pushed one finger inside me, his thumb on my clitoris, rubbing me
firmly. I groaned.
Whack. “I didn’t hear your answer, Lucia.” Antonio’s voice was silken.
“Yes,” I moaned. “I want you to put your cock inside me. Please.”
“All in due time,” he said lazily, adding another finger to the one already in
my pussy. I groaned and thrust back into him.
Whack. The sound of the spank echoed around the room. “Tell you what,
Lucia,” he said, and now I could tell that he was struggling to hold back the
laughter. “You say - I’m sorry I stole your painting, Antonio. And in return,
you get to orgasm. Fair trade?”
I groaned, but I kept my lips shut. I wasn’t sorry I stole his painting. It
belonged to the Doge’s Palace, not in some thief’s office.
He laughed again. “Ah, baby, you’ll do whatever I tell you before we are
done here, and you’ll thank me for it…” His fingers resumed thrusting in
me while with his other hand, he scratched the tender skin of my ass in lazy
circles. Heat rose in me, a dangerous heat that threatened to consume me.
His fingers left me and their withdrawal caused me to groan in protest.
“Antonio,” I pleaded.
“Repeat after me: I’m sorry I stole your painting, Antonio,” he said easily. I
was engulfed in longing, and it would be so easy to relent. But I stiffened
through the lust. Damn him. I was going to do no such thing.
A warm chuckle. “Stubborn Lucia,” he said, moving around, unzipping his
pants, pulling his cock out, and placing it at my lips.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 5
Antonio:
She was so brave, so stubborn and so aroused, my sweet little thief.
I was more than a little aroused myself. My cock sprang out of my pants as
I lowered the zipper, and I held it to her lips. To her credit, she didn’t try to
pretend she didn’t want it. She parted her lips and took my length into her
warm, willing mouth.
I thrust into her, and she took me like a champion, not choking, not
gagging, just a sweet surrender of her mouth, a swirl of her tongue, a suck
of her cheek. Full of surprises, my little thief, she knew how to give head,
and she would have me exploding in her mouth if she kept this up.
Growling, I pulled out. She was going to apologise for stealing my
Madonna before we were done here. I was determined.
***
Lucia:
My pussy gushed as he thrust down my throat. I was helpless to resist.
Hands tied to my legs, unable to move, my breasts pressed into the desk. I
was as turned on as I’d ever been in my entire life.
He pulled out of my mouth with a growl. “Not just yet, little thief,” he said
easily. “First, your apology.”
I laughed. I wasn’t going to apologise.
He didn’t look annoyed at my laughter. His lips twitched. “Lucia,” he
chided softly. “You are going to regret your stubbornness.”
He straightened and wandered away to the refrigerator. “Want some water?
Still? Sparkling?”
“Still, please,” I said. There was a depth to Antonio, something more than
just the obvious mobster persona. He surprised me.
He poured the water from a bottle into a glass and held it to my lips, helping
me drink. He pushed back a curl as I drank, kissed my forehead softly.
“Ready to go again?” he asked, when I was done.
I nodded.
He chuckled, removing a cube of ice from the glass and running it over my
lips.
“Anytime you want to apologise, Lucia,” he said, amusement threading
through his voice, “do let me know.”
He sat down on his chair and pulled me towards him, lowering his mouth
onto my dripping pussy. His tongue took leisurely licks, avoiding my
clitoris. I groaned as the tingling pleasure swept through me, and pushed
into him as best as I could. I could hear his chuckle vibrate through me.
His mouth pulled away and the ice cube replaced it. I squirmed and yelped,
as his hot mouth traced the same path as the cube. I groaned again. The
cold, contrasted with the heat of his mouth, and all I could feel was
pleasure. I was so aroused it was almost painful.
A flick of his tongue on my clitoris, and I almost jumped off the desk.
“Antonio,” I begged.
He didn’t relent. His tongue took me higher and higher on the path of
arousal. I was so close to the edge, I could almost feel the shape of my
orgasm.
He stopped, removing his tongue from my clitoris. His mouth nibbled my
inside thigh. “Still waiting for that apology, Lucia,” he said.
I growled in frustration. I had been so close.
The cube of ice dripped cold drops of water all down my pussy. His mouth
followed, licking the drops up, leaving a heated path in his trail. I couldn’t
take it anymore. My pussy was drenched, and my brain was lost in a haze of
lust.
“I’m sorry I stole your painting,” I whispered. “Please, Antonio, please
make me come…”
I could hear the smile in his voice as he bent his head down. “Gladly, little
thief,” he said, as his tongue lapped at my pussy, and flicked at my clitoris,
and I was rising, rising, the arousal threatening to overwhelm me, till at last,
the pulsing waves of pleasure overtook me, and I exploded in a
thundercloud of sensation.
Through the haze, I heard the sound of a condom wrapper being torn open,
and then Antonio held my thighs apart and entered me in a swift, powerful
thrust. I groaned. He started moving deep inside me, his fingers rubbing
circles on my clitoris, barely letting me recover from my first orgasm before
propelling me to a second one.
My insides clenched as I felt him move in me. The tension built, and I
moaned as I once again approached that point of no-return, where every
nerve in my body responded to him. Then I shattered, screaming out his
name, and I felt his body stiffen. His fingers dug painfully into my thighs
and he exploded with a growl in me.
***
Afterwards, we were seated on the couch. I had a drink in my hand.
I looked at him. He was stretched out on the couch, relaxed, with an air of
effortless ease. Dangerously attractive.
I had a question for him; one I was wondering if he was going to answer.
“The Madonna,” I started. “Why is it important to you?”
He looked at me. I could see him assess me, debating whether to answer or
not. Then his eyes softened.
“Such an obscure piece, the Madonna,” he said quietly. “Do you know, it’s
only been exhibited once? More than twenty years ago, one exhibit on
seventeenth century religious art. That’s it.” He looked pensive for a
second. “I was sixteen when I saw it at the Doge’s Palace. I stole it three
months after the exhibit closed. It was my first major job.”
“You stole from the Doge’s Palace when you were sixteen?” My voice was
astonished.
He laughed at me. “I became the Head of the Thieves Guild for a reason,
Lucia,” he said. There was no arrogance in his voice. He was simply stating
a fact.
“Why did you take it?” I asked.
“Why did you?” he countered.
“There’s a serenity in her eyes,” I said softly.
“It would be a shame to send her back to the Doge’s vaults, don’t you
think?”
I looked at him. “It isn’t yours to take,” I said. “It doesn’t belong in your
private collection.”
He laughed but his eyes were hard. “But yet, here it is, and here it will
remain.”
***
Antonio:
It was a week after my encounter with Lucia, and I was still trying to get the
woman out of my mind. Every time I saw a brunette, I thought of her. I
couldn’t look at my desk without thinking about the way she had looked
that night, pressed down on it, offering me her ass to spank.
I glanced at the note I’d been handed.
Antonio Moretti - a warning. An attempt will be made to steal the Madonna
on August 29th. Guard her well.
“Where did this come from?” I asked Giovanni.
He shrugged. “Some kid handed it to me as I was getting out of my house
this morning,” he said. “Why, what does it say?”
I didn’t reply. The paper even smelled like Lucia.
I laughed aloud. “Do your best, little thief,” I muttered to myself. I couldn’t
wait.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 6
Lucia:
The stinging of my ass faded quickly, but my failure to steal the Madonna
rankled. I sent Antonio a note announcing the date of my next attempt. It
was a reckless act. You do not taunt the head of the Thieves’ Guild. Yet, I
did exactly that.
Dreams of Antonio plagued me. I couldn’t stop thinking about the way he
had tied me, quickly and confidently. I couldn’t push out of my mind the
way he had watched me with heat in his eyes. I couldn’t help remembering
the gentleness in his voice as he told me to take my punishment bravely,
and the feel of the strokes of his palm against my skin. Night after night, I
dreamed of Antonio, and every single time, I woke up drenched with sweat
and shuddering from my climax.
Finally, I gave up. There was a restlessness in me that could only be
soothed by one very particular cure. Club Casanova.
***
I was twenty one when my father had put a bullet in his brain. He loved my
mother too deeply to think of life without her. But it wasn’t an act of
romance. It was an act of selfishness. In the space of twenty four hours, I
had lost both my parents.
For months after, I was trapped in my rage at the way my parents had
abandoned me. I engaged in every possible self-destructive behaviour as I
coped. Drugs? I did them. Alcohol? I abused it for a few months, until I
woke up one morning in a bed with a stranger I had no recollection of going
home with. Sex with seriously flawed men? More times than I could
remember.
One of these flawed men turned out to be my salvation. He liked to tie
women up and beat them until they pleaded for him to stop. But I never
begged him to stop. I only begged him for more. His whip was the lifeline
thrown to me as I drowned in my despair, and I seized it and I lifted myself
up.
I left him soon enough. Healed, I had no use for seriously flawed men. Then
I’d found Casanova, and in the club, I received fulfilment of my very
particular needs.
***
From the outside, the club simply looked like another palazzo in Venice,
one of the many that had been converted into apartments. Only the
members knew what it was.
“Top or bottom today, Miss Petrucci?” The bouncer at the door was Irish, as
was the rest of the club staff.
“Bottom.” I very rarely wanted to top. The ability to let go of control in a
safe space was tempting enough for me. I held my wrist out. A pale blue
wristband was placed on me, and I smiled at the bouncer and entered the
club floor.
Club Casanova was the only bondage club I’d ever belonged to, and so I
didn’t have any basis of comparison with other clubs. But from the talk of
the other members, it was relatively unique. There was a small public stage
for the very rare occasions when someone would want to play in public.
Most of the time though, the area downstairs was used so people could pair
up and go to one of the well-equipped play rooms upstairs.
The club wasn’t particularly crowded today. Membership was prohibitively
expensive, and the selection process was arduous. I had understood why the
first time I had walked in the club, and seen both a judge of the High Court
as well as the Chief of Police in there. Everyone playing there had
something to lose, and this, more than anything else, kept the existence of
the club hidden.
I walked in and grabbed a drink of club soda from the bartender. Only one
drink a night, unless you didn’t intend to play at all. I was there to play.
“Lucia.” A familiar voice greeted me, and I turned and smiled.
“Enzo, I haven’t seen you for a while,” I laughed, hugging the Chief of
Police of Venice.
He smiled at me. “Want to play, Lucia?”
“I don’t want to fuck tonight, Enzo,” I told him. Enzo wielded the whips
better than anyone in the club. He would have me begging in an instant. But
I was mindful that I had dreamed of Antonio every single night, and it felt
wrong to sleep with someone else. Especially someone like Enzo, who I
very much liked and respected.
“Good. Neither do I,” Enzo responded. I looked at him quickly. There was a
trace of disquiet in his tone.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. But he shook his head and snapped his
fingers. I shut up and followed him to a private room.
***
“What’s wrong?” I asked him again, when we were done. Everything hurt
in the best way. I was wrapped in a soft robe, and leaning against Enzo’s
chest.
He shrugged. “Do you ever search for meaning at Casanova, Lucia?” he
asked, stroking my hair absently.
“Is Casanova the place to find meaning?” I countered. An image of Antonio
flashed before my eyes, stretched out on the couch and drinking a glass of
water, telling me about his painting.
“Perhaps not,” he replied with a smile. “It might be time for me to take a
hiatus though.”
Some people could walk away from the scene without missing it. I knew I
wouldn’t be able to. And I didn’t think Enzo couldn’t either. It was too
integral to who he was.
“What are you going to do?” I asked him.
He just shrugged.
***
Antonio:
I had her followed, of course. And when I saw the photo of her entering
Casanova, I laughed out loud as the pieces clicked into place.
She had played with bravery and ease the other day. She hadn’t flinched
from the rope or the spanking. There was no crying or snivelling or
whining; she had taken everything I threw at her and she had smiled and
asked for more. I should have known then that she knew how to play.
More than ever, I couldn’t wait to be with her again.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 7
Lucia:
It was safe to say that my second attempt to steal the Madonna didn’t go
much better than the first. No. Let me rephrase that. It was disastrously
worse.
I had found out that the painting had been moved to Antonio’s estate on the
outskirts of the city. One of the girls I’d befriended in my short stint as a
cleaning lady had let that tidbit drop. I knew that Antonio’s house would be
well guarded, but I thought I would try a reconnaissance mission around the
middle of August.
It was a lovely, balmy summer night. I was dressed casually, just like a
tourist, right down to the faded shorts, the torn sneakers and the folded map
in my hands. No one, not even Antonio’s guards would give a tourist a
second glance. We lived in Venice. Tourists were as plentiful as fleas.
I had walked outside the high walls that surrounded his home. And then, I
had a thought that I would come to regret. It was the quietest, laziest
Thursday evening. There didn’t appear to be a soul in sight. I tried to push
open the gates and see what awaited me on the inside.
***
My disguise as a tourist was useless. I tried speaking broken Italian and
explaining that I was lost, but the two guards who had intercepted me just
looked amused. “Miss Petrucci,” one of them said politely. “You must think
we are idiots.” He nodded to the other. “Our orders are to take her to the
dungeon,” he said.
Damn it. I should have known that Antonio would be expecting me.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 8
Lucia:
Any other time, I might have gawked at the dungeon. It was a fully
equipped play room, with a spanking bench, a St. Andrews Cross, whips
and floggers hanging on the wall and chains dangling from the ceiling. And
a large bed in a corner. But right now, I was in no mood to gawk. Right
now, I was shaking with nerves and berating myself for my stupidity. I was
all kinds of a fool to think that they wouldn’t have a photo of me, that they
wouldn’t recognize me right away.
The guards searched me quickly and efficiently. They put a pair of
handcuffs over my wrists, attached it to a chain, and lifted my arms towards
the ceiling, tightening the chain till I was fully extended. Then they nodded
politely, and left me alone.
***
Time passed. An hour, then another. Finally, I heard the sound of someone
coming down the stairs, and the door opened.
Antonio.
He must have been out at a formal event, because he was in full evening
dress. Today, he was clean-shaven. His bowtie was undone though, and as
he came forward, he shrugged off his jacket.
“Lucia.” His lips curved into a smile of greeting. “You know, if you wanted
to go out with me, there are slightly easier ways of asking.”
“Fuck you,” I said, but there was a familiar heat between my legs. Damn it.
He had haunted my dreams for the last two weeks, and it turned out that I
wanted him more than ever.
He laughed and went towards the switch controlling the chain. He flicked it,
and the chain lowered, and I sighed with relief as the strain on my arms
eased. He walked behind me and unhooked the chain and removed the
handcuffs, his strong hands massaging away the ache in my shoulders.
“So, I’m not to construe this pitiful attempt at breaking into my house as a
come-on?” His voice was amused. “Ah, little thief. Tell me why I can see
your nipples harden under your shirt.”
“I’m scared,” I retorted defiantly.
He gestured towards the door. “Stay with honesty, Lucia, or go.”
Damn it to all heavens, but I wanted Antonio. Could it be true? Could I
have been sabotaging myself without realizing it, letting myself be caught
because I wanted Antonio to put me over his lap and spank me?
I eyed him. This wasn’t the safe space of the club. But I did know that if
Antonio wanted harm to befall me, well, it would happen. My body would
be discovered, floating face down in the canal. I could run from here, but if
that was his intent, I couldn’t outrun it.
Knowing that, in some strange, perverse way, I felt safe.
***
Antonio:
She smiled at me, a confident, relaxed smile, and then she crossed her arms
at her wrists, and extended them towards me. A gesture of submission.
“I choose to stay.”
She was so beautiful, my little thief. But we couldn’t jump right away into
the play. There were formalities to be observed. I moved towards a folder I
had set down by the door as I entered, and I pulled out two sheets of paper
from it. The list of her hard and soft limits – the one she had filled out at
Casanova. And my corresponding list. I handed them both to her.
“Your limits, is there anything you wish to add to that list?”
She looked at the list with shock. “Liam assured me that the club’s records
were completely secure,” she said, her voice the merest thread of sound.
“Safer than Fort Knox, he said.”
I looked at her with a smile. “They really are quite secure,” I said. “But I
own the club.”
There was deeper shock in her expression as her eyes met mine. I had just
told her something that very few people knew, and I could see the wheels
turn in her head as she wondered why I had chosen to reveal this to her. I
didn’t really know why myself.
“How many people know this?” she whispered.
“Including you? Five.”
“Am I going to end up in the canal, Antonio?” she asked directly. I didn’t
share my secrets and she was clearly wondering what the cost of this
knowledge was.
I laughed. She had no idea how desirable I found her. “No, little thief. I just
want to play. You are quite safe with me.”
She was looking at my list of limits. “Have you played at Casanova? I’ve
never seen you there.”
I shook my head. “I only play privately, Lucia.”
She handed the sheets back to me, her eyes unreadable. “I’m ready,” she
said evenly.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 9
Lucia:
When he looked at me, there was a hard edge in his eyes. “I have only one
more question,” he asked. His voice was level. I shivered involuntarily.
“Did you fuck Enzo Peron?”
“Can’t you check the camera feeds then?” I retorted. Fuck him. Every
single day in the last three weeks, I had to read about his affairs in the
tabloids. His current squeeze was a half-Russian half-Italian B-list actress
with large breasts, blonde hair, and legs that were about a mile long. He
dared ask me who I took to my bed? He could go fuck himself.
“There are limits to how much of your privacy I’m willing to invade,” he
replied. “Having you followed? That’s just sound business practise.
Watching you have sex with a man? That borders on stalking, don’t you
think?”
“Fuck you,” I said to him. “I don’t want to hear your thoughts about who I
should sleep with. Especially if you’ve just come here from Tatiana
Cordova’s bed.”
He shook his head. “I haven’t slept with Tatiana since I met you, little
thief,” he said quietly. He walked towards me till he was standing mere
inches from my body. “When I close my eyes, Lucia, all I can see is your
face. I smell your scent when the wind blows. My heart beats faster when a
brunette walks by on the street. I crave your feel against me, little thief.
You’ve ruined me for other women.”
Gods, but he was good. My pussy was a molten puddle of need and my
nipples were engorged. He could have been lying through his teeth, but in
that moment, I wanted to believe him with every fibre of my being.
I gulped. “I didn’t sleep with Enzo,” I said quietly. My story could be
corroborated by cameras. His, I would have to take on faith.
***
I knelt in front of him, and extended my arms out towards him, crossed at
the wrists, keeping my head lowered. The particular pose didn’t really do
anything for me, but I’d played with enough members at the club to realize
that some Dominants were very particular about form and protocol. I didn’t
know if Antonio fell in this category, but it was safest to assume he did.
He laughed at me. “What do you think this is, Lucia? The non-existent
slave planet of some writer’s imagination? We aren’t in Gor, little thief. Get
up and face me with strength.”
I blushed and rose as he continued to laugh. “Fine,” I said, my tone grumpy.
“How am I supposed to know?”
“You aren’t,” he responded. “I’ll tell you what I want. And you’ll tell me
what you want. Isn’t that how you normally play?”
It was. But Antonio was somehow different from my play at Casanova.
Antonio was real.
“I don’t play outside the club,” I admitted.
He raised an eyebrow. “I’m flattered, Lucia.”
***
He eyed me silently for a few moments. I waited. It had been a long time
since I’d played with a new partner. “Come,” he said finally. “Pick a crop.”
I picked a rigid leather split crop, and eyed him challengingly, waiting for
his comment. He grinned and found a large butt plug. “Too large, Lucia?”
he asked politely. I flashed him a withering look.
He pulled me towards him and spanked my ass hard. “Don’t test my
patience, little thief,” he said with a smile. His eyes were amused. A flash
of arousal shot through me at that spank. I craved this. I craved him.
He opened a drawer, and added nipple clamps and wrist and ankle restraints
to the mix. “Get naked, Lucia,” he ordered. I slid out of my t-shirt and
shorts, removed my bra and panties.
“What’s your safeword?” he asked me.
“Madonna,” I replied. I did my best to strip out the defiance from my voice.
From the laugh that met my reply, I didn’t think I had succeeded.
“Come,” he said to me, his voice relaxed, when he had finally finished
laughing. I liked watching Antonio laugh. This man was dangerously sexy.
He led me to the bed and I waited for my instructions.
“Lucia,” he said, his voice relaxed. “I’d like you to make eye-contact
whenever I’m in front of you. But no speaking unless you are spoken to,
okay?”
I nodded silently. “Get on the bed,” he said. “Kneel, and put your elbows on
the mattress. Keep your head down, lift your ass in the air.”
I followed the volley of instructions quietly. “Good girl,” he said, his voice
even as his hands stroked my ass. I moaned a little. My pussy was soaking
wet. It had clenched when Antonio walked into the dungeon. It had dripped
as I had knelt in front of him, and now, as he touched me, I couldn’t hold
back my whimper of need.
“I’m going to spank you now, little thief,” he said evenly, just a hint of
amusement in his voice. “I had hoped that from the last spanking I gave
you, that you would abandon this quest for my painting.”
I couldn’t help myself, I wasn’t going to let that sentence go unchallenged.
“It isn’t yours,” I said, my voice stubborn. “It belongs in the Doge’s Palace
vaults.”
“No speaking,” he chided. Smack. His palm found my ass, and the blow
pushed me forward into the pillow. I could feel the mattress dip with his
weight as he settled on the bed besides me. One hand held in the small of
my back, holding me still. The other, stroking my ass and kneading it,
stoking a fire in my pussy that spread through my body.
I wanted to push into that hand, to beg and plead for him to touch my pussy.
But I knew how to play. I was in his hands. I was his to pleasure or to
ignore. I waited.
Smack. Another blow on the other ass cheek, and then he was stroking
away the pain. Heat rose in my body as pleasure warred with pain. Smack.
Smack. Two hard blows, one on each cheek.
“Your ass is reddening nicely, little thief,” he said quietly, his voice
appreciative. “And you are being a very good girl, holding still for me.” His
finger snaked a path through my dripping pussy as a reward, and it took all
the self-control I possessed not to push back into his hand and press my
aching pussy into him.
He got up. His hands were on my ankle, fastening the cuff to it, and then the
ankle cuff was attached to rope, that was tied to one end of the four poster
bed. He moved around the other side and repeated the movement with my
other ankle. In minutes, I was securely cuffed to the bed, my knees apart,
my pussy and ass on lewd display. I could feel his eyes on my exposed
body.
“Ah Lucia, you are so wet, it takes every bit of self-control I possess not to
bury myself in your sweetness…” His voice was warm, and every inch of
my body sparked in arousal in response to his words and to the tone of lust
in his voice.
“But first, the crop. You did go to all the trouble of picking it out.” Another
little sliver of amusement in his voice. He pulled back slightly, and I could
hear the crop whistle in the air. I clenched automatically, and I heard him
laugh. “Lucia,” he said, a caress in his voice. “Sweet little thief. Are you
afraid of the crop?”
I shook my head, but I was lying. I was a little nervous. Antonio was an
unknown to me. There were no monitors in his dungeon who would stop
the play if I needed it to stop. Here, I had to trust that he would respect my
safe word.
But yet. I also remembered the heat in his voice when he told me he craved
my feel against him. I felt the same way. I needed him to dominate me. I
needed the contrast of the gentleness in his voice and the implacable feel of
the crop. When he had pushed me into his desk and spanked me hard the
last time we met, I had felt more alive than I had in years. And when heat
rose in his eyes as he looked at my naked body, I felt cherished in a way I
didn’t feel at the club.
“Beg me to crop you.” His voice was even.
I turned my head to look at him. I didn’t waste my time trying to hide the
need. “Please crop me, Antonio,” I whispered.
“Crop you where, little thief?” he asked. He walked silently from one side
to another. Goose bumps rose on my skin.
“Wherever you’d like,” I said quietly. “I’m yours to hurt.”
He leaned forward and touched his lips to my shoulder for just an instant.
“Sweetness, I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “I want your skin to flush
with pleasure.” Whap. The crop struck my ass, and I jumped slightly as a
sharp pain blossomed at that spot, fading in seconds to warmth.
“I want you to moan my name.” Whap. Another stroke, this time on the
other cheek. Whap. Whap. My upper thighs. I groaned.
“I want your pussy to drip in arousal.” Whap. The crop struck my inside
thighs. I jumped and whimpered, but I betrayed my arousal by spreading
my legs wider for him. “Good girl,” he said in response, and I could hear
the smile in his voice.
“I want you to hover at the edge of orgasm, and wait for me to give you
permission to fall over.” Another crisp stroke on my thighs, and I moaned
his name.
“Antonio,” I begged. “Please…”
“Lucia,” he said evenly. “You really must follow directions better. Speak
only when you are spoken to, remember?”
The crop slapped my skin. On my shoulders, my thighs and my ass. Even
on the soles of my feet, though these strokes weren’t as hard as the others.
As he promised, my entire skin warmed with the slight flush that the crop
brought, and as it always did, the pain shaped itself into shocking lust. I
whimpered and moaned, and I whispered his name. Finally, the strokes
stopped, and his hands ran over my body, stroking it gently back to
calmness.
“Please,” I begged him. I needed to come so badly.
“A deal, sweetness,” he said, his eyes hot with lust. “Take the butt plug and
lower yourself on it, and you can orgasm.”
I flushed and nodded.
“Sit up,” he said, undoing my ankle cuffs. I sat at the edge of the bed, as he
had indicated, and watched as he pulled a chair forward from a corner. He
placed the butt plug on the seat, and I was relieved to see that he had lubed
it first. “Come here, sweetness,” he ordered. “Stand up, turn around, bend
down so I can lube your ass.”
I flushed again, but followed his instructions. He squeezed lube and his
fingers spread it into my asshole, and this time, I couldn’t help myself. I
groaned and pushed back into him. His touch made my insides flutter, and
my entire pussy ached with need. He laughed at my movement, and I heard
his pleasure in his laugh. “Keep still, little thief,” he said, smacking my ass
as punctuation. I nodded silently. I was usually better behaved. But perhaps
because this wasn’t the club, or perhaps because for the last two weeks, I
had woken up shuddering in orgasm with this man’s name on my lips, I was
dangerously aroused, and incoherent with need.
“Lower yourself on the butt plug, Lucia,” he instructed firmly. He stood in
front of me, just watching, as I twisted so that one hand was holding the
plug steady, and I lowered myself down. As I pushed down, I whimpered
and winced. The plug was as large as any I’d ever used, and I felt almost
painfully stretched. He just waited. I groaned loudly as the widest part of
the plug stretched my hole, but then, the plug tapered and my closing
muscles sucked it in.
“Stay on the chair, part your legs wide.”
He sank to his knees in front of me. His hands were on my thighs, keeping
them spread as he lowered his mouth on my pussy. “Ah, Lucia,” he groaned
as his tongue snaked a path up my slit. “I’ve wanted to do this since I
walked in the door.”
His tongue sopped up my dripping wetness as he murmured his
appreciation. “Such a tasty treat,” he said, not lifting his mouth from my
pussy. I flushed in pleasure at his tone. His mouth moved to my clitoris, and
his fingers pushed into my vagina. I groaned as his fingers thrust in and out.
“Antonio,” I moaned.
A hard spank on my pussy, and I arched off the chair as heat radiated
through my body. I bit my lip, but I could feel my body respond with
renewed wetness. “Kitten, you still need to keep quiet,” he said, watching
me intently. I nodded slightly, and he grinned and kissed my thigh. “Such a
good girl, Lucia,” he said.
His tongue flicked at my clitoris, setting a steady rhythm that had me
moaning in need. His fingers thrust in and out of my pussy. The butt plug in
my ass kept me feeling full, a steady background pressure that provided an
intense counterpoint to his fingers and tongue. I felt my orgasm build up
inside me, steadily, as a response to his hands and his mouth. My thighs
quivered as I strained to keep them open. Every instinct was begging me to
clamp them shut, pull his head closer into my aching vagina, and freefall
into orgasm.
“Antonio, please…” I begged, mindful that I needed to ask permission.
He lifted his head and smiled at me. “Please let me come,” I begged, my
voice strained. I was close. So close. It was everything I could do to stop
myself and ask him for release.
He nodded his consent. “Come for me, sweetness,” he said softly, as he
sucked my clitoris between his lips and teeth, and that movement coupled
with his permission was all it took as I exploded, twisting and writhing, as
waves and waves of pleasure washed through me.
He kept his mouth on my clitoris and his fingers continued their steady
assault. I moaned and flailed as every nerve ending in my body came alive.
The muscles in my pussy clenched around his fingers, and I grabbed his
head and I groaned his name and waited for the tidal wave that was my
orgasm to pass.
I could feel him lift me off the chair and push me backward on the bed.
“Spread your legs, little thief,” he instructed, his eyes fiery with need. I
opened them wide, and arched my hips upward towards him in unspoken
invitation. When he had taken me the last time, I had been face-down, and
he had taken me from behind. This time, I was on my back and I could look
into his eyes as he entered me.
I discovered I really wanted to see his face as he thrust into my body.
His eyes met mine. “Keep your eyes on me, sweetness,” he instructed.
“Don’t close them.”
I nodded my compliance. This was not an order I was going to have trouble
obeying.
His fingers quickly removed his clothes. Shirt, belt, pants, briefs. I stared
shamelessly as his cock came into view. He was beautiful and long and
thick, and I instinctively spread my legs wider.
A condom wrapper was retrieved from the pocket of his pants with a little
tsk of impatience. The clothes were tossed aside carelessly and the condom
rolled on. Then he reached towards me and pulled me to the foot of the bed.
He moved my legs over his shoulders, and in one swift, ramming motion,
he thrust, pushing his entire length into me.
I screamed. I had just come; everything was sensitive. And the butt plug
added an extra dimension of fullness, making me feel almost overwhelmed.
Yet, I felt my hips rise towards him as he pulled out, looked at me intently,
and thrust himself back into me again.
“Fuck, Antonio,” I groaned, shutting my eyes for an instant.
“Keep those eyes open,” he snapped, punctuating his statement with two
hard spanks on my thighs. My eyes flew open, and I bit my lip. Too much.
My vagina was quivering, every muscle tensing around his assault. My butt
was clenching around the plug.
“Beg,” he said, as he pulled away till he was almost completely out of my
body. He held his cock there, waiting and intent. That beautiful head was
right at the entrance of my pussy, and I would have to beg him to slam it
into me.
“Please,” I begged him. He didn’t move. “Please fuck me,” I whimpered.
Nothing. “Please, please, Antonio, I need you, I’m going to fall apart,
please, I’m begging you…” The words were streaming out, with my mind
only dimly aware of what I was saying. “Please,” I begged again, helpless
need in my eyes. “Please fuck me, Antonio. Make me yours.”
He smiled at me, as he slammed into me so hard my entire body moved
back on the bed. His hands quickly pulled my body back into him, and he
pulled out and rammed me again. I screamed and moaned and moved my
hips to greet each and every movement of his body.
“Move the plug with your hands,” he ordered. “I want to feel it move in
your body in rhythm with me.”
I obeyed mindlessly. There was a dim hurt in my ass as my fingers pulled
the plug out, and pushed it back in. He was slamming into me, hard and
fast, and I twisted my body slightly and tried to match his speed. In the back
of my head, I knew my ass would be sore tomorrow, and so would my
pussy. Right now, I didn’t care. He was hurting me in the best kind of way.
The way I needed. And yet his gaze held mine, and there was only warmth
in his eyes.
Finally, I felt his body tense, and his hands grip my thighs cruelly. “Fuck,
Lucia,” he said with a groan as he came, finally closing his eyes in that final
moment of release. He ground into my pussy and stayed buried in me as his
breathing steadied. “Fuck, Lucia,” he repeated, his voice softer as he pulled
out.
It startled me that I felt bereft without him.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 10
Lucia:
“Ready to go again?” he asked me after a few minutes of silence. He had
removed the butt plug from my body, and our bodies were side-by-side on
the bed, close enough that I could hear his even breathing.
“Can I get a drink of water?” I asked him.
He nodded and rose from the bed, comfortable in his nakedness. “Still,
yes?” he asked me.
It made me a little nervous that he had remembered my preference from the
last time. I didn’t know what to make of Antonio. But I just nodded. He
found a bottle in a small refrigerator I hadn’t noticed, right next to the bed,
and handed it to me. I took a deep, refreshing drink. I didn’t know what was
in store next, but much of my earlier disquiet had faded in the face of the
pleasure he had given me.
“Sit up at the foot of the bed,” he said, walking towards me with a length of
black rope in his hands. He took my left breast in his hand, and wound the
rope around it, going around and around till my skin was hot to the touch,
and my breast was bulging obscenely from its binding. He moved to my
other side and repeated the procedure to my right breast.
“How does that feel?” he asked me. I could feel my skin throbbing, a dull
ache filling my chest.
“They hurt a little,” I admitted.
He laughed and showed me the nipple clamps. “And they are about to hurt a
lot more,” he said silkily. His eyes were on mine though, searching for signs
of unease or fear.
I looked up and grinned at him, a relaxed, insolent grin. “Do your worst,” I
drawled.
He laughed again. “Ah, Lucia,” he said, his voice appreciative. “How does
that attitude of yours go down at Casanova, I wonder? They must belt your
ass black and blue if you sass them like this.”
I didn’t answer his question. I was well-behaved in the club. Antonio
seemed to bring out every little defiant bit in me.
He pinched my heated nipples quickly and attached the nipple clamps to
them. I hissed in pain as my breasts throbbed even more. He waited for me
to process the sensation, and I took several even breaths to calm myself.
“Okay?” he asked me quietly, when I finally looked into his eyes.
I nodded.
“Say it,” he insisted.
“Stop treating me like a child,” I snapped. I had no idea why I did it. I
wanted Antonio to throw everything he could at me, and I would take it and
beg for more.
His lips twitched, but he ignored my outburst. His hand reached out and
stroked my hair, and then he brushed it from my neck and grabbed a bunch
of it. “Up,” he said, his grip tightening on my hair. A gush of arousal from
my pussy was my body’s response to his grip, and I fought not to shudder,
not to reveal how much pleasure that brought me.
He noticed though, and his lips brushed gently at my exposed neck. “Do
you like that, little thief?” he asked softly. “Do you like when my hand
tightens in your hair?”
I nodded silently, not trusting myself to speak.
He guided me to the head of the bed, my hair still tightly wound around his
hands. “Lie down in the center of the bed,” he ordered. “And spread those
legs, sweet Lucia.” I followed his directions silently, and he placed a pillow
under my head and brushed a hand across my lips. I kissed his hand
automatically, not even realizing what I was doing, and blushed furiously
when awareness dawned on me. Not good. I couldn’t get fond of Antonio
Moretti. He was a play partner, nothing else.
His eyes met mine as my lips brushed across his hand, but thankfully, he
didn’t say anything. Instead, he just took my wrist in his hands, and
fastened the cuff around it, and then stretched my hand out and tied me to
one end of the bed. He repeated the procedure for my other wrist. My
ankles were pulled up and cuffed next to my hands at the head of the bed. I
was doubled over, my pussy and ass obscenely on display. I was entirely
under Antonio’s control.
I shivered slightly. It almost caused panic in me to realize how comfortable
I was. How much arousal I felt, and how little fear. Antonio was pure
pleasure.
“I want to know every inch of your body, little thief,” he murmured. He
walked away, and returned with a small bowl filled with clothespins. I
winced. If he put them on my pussy or my breasts, I could deal with the
pain. Anywhere else, and I’d turn into a whimpering ball of agony, and I’d
safeword in minutes.
“What’s the matter, 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 my head. Staying the night was the one thing I never did. It had to
be only about sex. Never anything more. The whip might have assuaged the
pain of my parents’ death, but it hadn’t managed to heal the deepest gash
inside me. I wanted nothing to do with love. Love was heartache. Love was
watching your mother wasting away as the cancer ravaged her body. Love
was finding the body of your father with his head blown away. There was
no room in my life for love.
***
Antonio:
I didn’t want her to leave. She left anyway.
She belonged to me, this little thief. And I belonged to her. I was the head
of Thieves’ Guild. Not a man given to fancy, but I knew this feeling to be
the truth. Silly phrases that I would have once mocked – that we were
meant for each other, she was my destiny, and I was hers – they were all
true when I thought of Lucia.
We fit together. She was the daughter of Guild thieves. My world was her
world. The demands of my job she would deal with in her strong, feisty
manner. And when she played? This woman played like no one I’d played
with before. This woman played fearlessly.
For the first time in my life, I was falling in love.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 11
Antonio:
Twilight in Venice. I was in a water-taxi, winding my way homeward. The
most normal and innocuous of things to do in Venice.
“Stop here for an instant,” I told the taxi-driver. But this was no ordinary
taxi-driver. Giovanni was my second-in-command. Only a very few were
privy to my secrets; Giovanni was one of them.
A man came walking towards the taxi, treading the relaxed footsteps of
someone taking an after-dinner walk. Had someone been watching us, any
attempt at furtiveness would have aroused suspicion. He walked towards
the boat and got in. Giovanni nodded a greeting at him and got out. The
exchange had taken seconds, and we were sheltered from sight by a cluster
of buildings.
I moved to take Giovanni’s place and the boat moved again, heading
towards more open waters. Finally, we were past the point where our
conversation could be heard, and I turned towards my passenger.
“Enzo,” I greeted the Chief of Police of Venice. I didn’t move towards him.
I was playing the role of a water taxi driver, and anyone could be watching
the boat.
He rolled his eyes at me. “This is all very cloak-and-dagger, Antonio. Our
usual meeting couldn’t have sufficed?”
Enzo Peron and I had breakfast together once every two weeks. Another
secret, one we both guarded. The Chief of Police could not be seen together
with the head of Thieves Guild. Not without people assuming that Enzo’s
loyalty was for sale to the highest bidder.
The truth was something else entirely. Enzo and I went way back. We had
grown up together; we were like brothers. Brothers who had taken two very
different paths in life. But brothers nonetheless.
“I need to ask you something,” I said. My voice was reluctant. The question
I was going to ask Enzo – the wrong answer would gouge a hole in my
heart.
He raised an eyebrow and waited for me to continue.
“Lucia Petrucci.” My voice was harsh. “Is she important to you?”
“I gather by your tone that she’s important to you,” Enzo replied dryly.
“How did the two of you meet? You don’t play at Casanova.”
I didn’t tell Enzo that Lucia moonlit as an art thief. He was still the Chief of
Police and he took his job seriously. “We didn’t meet at Casanova,” I said.
“Is that the only place one might meet Lucia Petrucci?”
He ignored that, and answered my earlier question instead. “I like Lucia,”
he said. “But she doesn’t have a hold on my heart, if that’s what you are
asking. We have slept together though.”
I shrugged. What did the Americans call it? Realities on the ground. She
had slept with other men, and I had slept with other women. I couldn’t
waste any sleep over it. The past was the past. I was more concerned with
the present and the future.
“I like this girl,” I said, declaring my intentions openly. If there was a
problem, Enzo could speak up.
“She doesn’t get involved,” Enzo warned.
“I’ll take my chances,” I replied. The water taxi turned and swung back
towards Venice.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 12
Lucia:
I pushed thoughts of Antonio out of my head with determination. My
resolve succeeded during the day, for the most part. At night? My nights
belonged to Antonio. He was always in my dreams.
I stayed away from the club. He was under my skin, this dangerous man,
and other men would have seemed like pale imitations.
Instead, I doubled down on the preparation for my next attempt at the
Madonna. He hadn’t said anything overt, but he’d clearly dismissed my
skills as a thief, and I didn’t like it. Antonio Moretti was too smug and too
self-assured for his own good. The next time I was in his dungeon, it would
be on my terms. With the Madonna safe and sound in the Doge’s vaults.
But first, I needed to send him a message. Not a note, this time. A different
message.
***
Antonio:
I watched the security tapes once again. The guards had backed away from
me, fearing my anger. As they should. This was an unbelievable breach of
security, and I had no idea how she’d managed to pull it off.
The video footage showed her in my office. Right where I was seated at the
moment. She had turned to the camera, removed her cap. Bowed and
winked. And then, she’d given me the middle finger. Again, my lips
twitched as I saw that gesture. Lucia was feisty when she was challenged.
“Find out how she got in,” I said evenly. The guards nodded and retreated
hastily.
Once I was alone, I laughed out aloud. My little thief was going to keep me
on my toes.
***
Lucia:
I went to work the day after I’d managed to enter Antonio’s house with a
huge smile on my face. I’d deliberately let the cameras run. I wanted him to
know I was there. He would underestimate me at his peril.
The Madonna had been moved, of course. In any case, I didn’t have time to
search for it. My entry into his house was to make a point. It could be done,
and I had done it.
***
My first homage to my parents wasn’t a homage. It was bitter reproach that
they had abandoned me. I had no idea how I managed to steal that painting
without getting caught, reckless as I was in my grief.
It wasn’t a valuable painting, as these things went. It had been painted by a
turn of century Venetian who had painted thousands of images of the canals
for the tourists that had flooded Venice even then. But it was important to
me, and I had never sold it. It hung on the mantel in my tiny living room,
and every morning when I woke up, I would sit on the couch and sip my
coffee and eye my painting. It centered me and calmed me.
When I came back home from work that evening, my painting was gone.
And there was a note in its place. “Lucia. Have dinner with me tonight. -
Antonio.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 13
Antonio:
I rang the buzzer to her apartment, and she came down almost immediately.
She was wearing a yellow sundress that hugged her breasts and flared out at
the waist into soft folds. She looked touchable.
“I want my painting back,” she said with heat. “That’s the only reason I’m
having dinner with you.”
I laughed at her. “Ah, Lucia. Lying to me would be forgivable. But lying to
yourself?” I knew what I felt, and I could tell that she felt it too. There was
a unique chemistry between us. The games we played over the Madonna
added spice, but even if we didn’t spar over a painting, there was a heat
between us that we both felt.
My sweet little thief. When I took her hand, she didn’t pull away from me
like a scared kitten. No. Lucia walked close enough that I could feel the
heat emanate from her body.
I pulled her into my arms and kissed her. I hadn’t kissed her before, and I
could feel her stiffen for an instant before she kissed me back with passion.
Her lips were soft and her tongue was demanding, and I smiled and gave in
to both our needs. We were both panting slightly when we separated.
“I still want my painting back,” she muttered under her breath. I laughed
and reached for her again.
***
Lucia:
Fuck. He was a good kisser.
I thought his mouth would crush mine, that his tongue would invade my
mouth. But no. His lips were soft and persuasive. He seduced. He nibbled.
He sucked my lip into his mouth till I was helpless with need, and my
mouth parted open. Even then, his tongue darted, fleeting, until I growled
and deepened the kiss. I could have kissed him all evening.
I could feel his hands stroke the sides of my body, staying clear of my
breasts, conscious of the fact that we were on the street where anyone could
see us. Finally, I pulled away.
“It’s a lovely night for walking,” Antonio said. “Shall we, Lucia?”
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
“Dinner,” he said. “I thought we might have a meal together.” He grinned.
“Not that I haven’t enjoyed our previous encounters, of course.”
I laughed. “Do you need to steal paintings to get girls to have dinner with
you?” I asked him, a challenge in my voice.
He winked at me. “Sometimes,” he said. “Do you like seafood, little thief?”
I nodded. We wound our way through the narrow streets until we arrived at
the Piazza San Marco. A warm summer evening, the square was crowded
with tourists. As we walked, I noticed we were being followed at a discreet
pace by two men.
“Just guards,” Antonio murmured. “Relax.”
“They go everywhere with you?” I asked.
“Clearly not.” I flushed as I thought of Antonio’s dungeon, and he chuckled
at my expression. “Come,” he said. We were in front of Quadri, one of
Venice’s best restaurants. The prices here were significantly beyond my
income level.
I rolled my eyes. “Am I supposed to be impressed?”
He laughed. “The food is pretty good, little thief.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 14
Lucia:
We were greeted deferentially and seated instantly in a discreet alcove. A
bottle of wine was brought, our glasses filled, then our waiter retreated.
“Is this how the other half lives then? Must be nice.” My voice was wry.
“Indeed,” Antonio said. “To your health.” He lifted his glass towards me.
“To the speedy retrieval of my Madonna,” I retorted. His lips twitched but
he didn’t reply. His eyes just watched me, amused.
“I recommend the tasting menu,” he said. I nodded, our orders were taken,
and we were alone once again.
I took a sip of my wine. It was delicious, and I sighed softly. “Lovely,” I
muttered.
“Indeed,” he said. “You have a little drop on your lips, here…” His fingers
were at my lips, and I kissed them as he wiped the wine. I flushed again. I
was making a habit of kissing his fingers as they brushed past me. It was
pathetic.
He had noticed, but before he could remark on it, I cast around for a topic
change. “Tell me about yourself,” I asked him.
He smiled. “What do you want to know, Lucia?”
“How did you become the head of Thieves Guild? Is that hereditary?”
He shook his head. “I’m an orphan; I never knew my parents. When I was
thirteen, I ran away from the orphanage to live on the streets of Venice. I
was soon desperately hungry, and I tried stealing some fruit from a vendor.
Almost got arrested. An old thief saw me. He felt sorry for me, took me in
and showed me how to steal properly. The rest is history.”
I looked at him. There was a world of pain in that story, but his voice had
been without emotion; a dry recitation of facts. “You stole the Madonna
when you were sixteen, you said.”
He grinned. “My first major job. I should have fenced it right away. But I
couldn’t. Something held me back. Guido was so angry with me…” His
voice was remembering.
“In that case, I’m surprised I didn’t end up in the canal when I tried to steal
it,” I commented.
“You are too beautiful to end up in the canal, little thief,” he smiled at me.
We were interrupted by the waiter, who set a couple of bowls in front of us,
each with a beautifully plated small portion of fish. “Bon appetit,” he said
and receded.
I dug in with gusto. I was suddenly starving. The fish was delicious. I made
a small moan of appreciation as I ate, and Antonio’s lips twitched. “Tell me
about Casanova,” he said.
I was suddenly wary. “What do you want to know?”
“Why don’t you play outside of Casanova?” he asked. “Why just in the
club?”
I chewed a piece of fish as I thought about how to reply. “It’s safer in the
club,” I replied.
“A half-truth.” His voice was even. Being able to tell when you were being
lied to was probably part of the training you needed to become the head of
Thieves Guild.
“I don’t get involved,” I said.
“Why?”
“Love is loss, Antonio.” My gaze was direct. “Love is pain.”
He made a small noise of dissent. “Ah, Lucia. Trust me when I tell you it’s
better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all.”
I would have protested angrily, but Antonio had never known his parents.
He had neither known the warmth of a mother’s hug, nor the strong grip of
a father’s steadfast love. I kept quiet and ate, lost in thought for the
remainder of the meal.
***
“Come here,” he said, when the waiter had set our desserts in front of us. I
looked up and he patted the space next to him. I rose up and sat by his side,
and he pulled me into his body so that my back was resting on his chest.
Our waiter had discreetly vanished.
He kissed my neck, and held a spoonful of chocolate mousse out in front of
my mouth. I opened it dutifully, and he fed me spoonfuls of dessert and
berries from his fingers. “Why so pensive, Lucia?”
“You just gave me an abbreviated lesson in perspective,” I said. “I’m
absorbing it.”
“How so, sweetness?” I opened my mouth and chewed on the raspberry he
fed me.
“My dad shot himself when my mother died of cancer. I was twenty-one.”
I could feel him nod. He kissed me again on the neck. “I was at the
funeral,” he said.
He had said that before. “You weren’t the head of Thieves Guild then. I
would have remembered meeting you.”
“No, I wasn’t,” he replied. He fed me another spoonful of mousse.
“Anyway,” I said, continuing my train of thought. “I suddenly realized there
are worse things. Never knowing a parent, for instance.”
The fingers of one hand continued stroking my neck. He moved his other
hand around my waist, and pulled me close to his body. I suddenly wanted
to kiss him very badly, and so I twisted around and my lips met his.
After an initial surprised pause, he pulled my head into his hands, and
kissed me back, very, very thoroughly. My lips felt swollen when we were
done. I looked at him, need obvious in my eyes.
He quickly waved for the bill and paid it. The waiter fussed around us,
anxious to know if everything met with Mr. Moretti’s satisfaction.
“Everything was lovely,” Antonio said politely. “Thank you.” He placed a
hand in the small of my back, and we left, walking back towards my
apartment. Our guards were once again following us.
“They don’t eat at Quadri?” I asked wryly.
“Would you believe I’ve offered?” he remarked. “They put up with it once,
and then told me they preferred pizza. Philistines.”
I laughed. “Where are we going next?” I asked him.
He smiled. “To your apartment,” he replied.
I gazed at him with disappointment in my eyes. I wanted him to take me to
his dungeon. When we walked up to my building, he took the front door
key from my hands to open the door for me. “Come, I’ll walk you upstairs,”
he said. “Your building is far from secure.”
“I’m rather aware of that,” I replied dryly. “I still want my painting back.”
He laughed. “All in due time, sweetness,” he said.
At my apartment door, I looked at him hopefully. “Would you like to come
in?” I asked him. I wanted him to push me through my door. To take the
choice away from me. It was easier that way. There was less potential for
pain.
But he didn’t. He just looked at me intently. “Will you make me a cup of
coffee, Lucia?” he asked, finally.
I nodded. He stayed on my couch and drank the coffee I made him. He
thanked me with a kiss on my lips that left my entire body aching with
need, and then he left.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 15
Lucia:
I woke up the next morning with a silly smile on my face as I thought about
the previous night and the way Antonio had kissed me. Brushing my teeth, I
caught a glimpse of my expression in the mirror. There was a soft and
tender look in my eyes, and I flinched. No. Fuck no. This wasn’t okay. I
couldn’t be sweet and giggly and soft when I thought about Antonio
Moretti. I slept with whomever I wanted, and I didn’t stick around. I didn’t
get involved. That was who I was.
This ridiculous flirtation with Antonio Moretti was going to have to end. I’d
avoided going to the club since the day I’d ended up in his dungeon, but
that was probably why I was dangerously sweet on him. There was
something about sex when you gave up control. It made you soft and
pliable. I just needed to scrub Antonio out of my head and my heart by
duplicating that experience with one of the tops at the club. Enzo, if he had
got over whatever was ailing him the last time I was at Casanova. If not
Enzo, then someone else.
That evening, I showered, dressed with care in a dress that hugged every
curve of my body, and I caught a water taxi to the club. The bouncer at the
door started slightly when he saw me, but nodded politely enough. “Top or
bottom, Miss Petrucci?” he asked, as he always did, and I choose to bottom
again, and accepted the pale blue wristband.
The club was busier than it had been the last time. It reminded me that I
needed to pay my club dues for the next three months. I walked towards
Liam’s office. Until very recently, I thought Liam Callahan owned the club.
“Hey Lucia,” he greeted me. “What can I do for you?”
“I need to pay my dues before you send the enforcers,” I joked. There were
no enforcers that I knew of. I paid because I wanted to play.
He nodded. “Let’s see what you owe,” Liam said, typing something at the
keyboard on his desk. He read the screen, and looked at me, puzzled. “Are
you sure?” he asked me. “You are all paid up.”
I shook my head. Casanova was expensive. I wouldn’t have paid and
forgotten about it. A chill of suspicion went through me. Antonio? What the
heck was he playing at?
“I can’t be paid up,” I said.
“Look for yourself.” Liam turned the screen towards me and I looked. I was
paid up for the year.
“My mistake,” I said smoothly, trying my best to contain my rage. Did
Antonio think I was his kept woman? How dare he. I seethed as I walked
into the club floor. All the more reason I needed a good session with a Dom
who would work me over and readjust my attitude.
Apart from Enzo, there were a handful of Doms I played with somewhat
regularly. Luc, a French writer, one of the very few non Venetian members.
Paolo. Tomas. Luigi. None of them would meet my eye today, their gazes
sliding over me as if I wasn’t there. What the fuck?
I walked over to the bar and took a seat. “Okay, Shaun,” I said to the Irish
bartender. I knew him well; he’d worked at the club for all of the four years
I’d been a member. “What gives? Do I look fat or something today? Why is
everyone avoiding me?”
He laughed. “You don’t know?” he asked me, then he looked at the blank
expression on my face. “No, you don’t know. You were seen kissing
Antonio Moretti last night at Quadri. And there’s not a single guy here who
is going to risk ending up floating face down in the canal by coming
anywhere close to you.”
I gulped down the contents of the glass in front of me. My hands were
shaking as I peeled off the pale blue wristband. What kind of sick, twisted
game was Antonio playing? “Another one, Shaun,” I said, my voice tight
with anger. He wisely didn’t reply as he mixed up my standard drink and set
it in front of me. I took one long swallow, then I got up. Fuck this. I wasn’t
going to roll over and do whatever Antonio wanted. He couldn’t make the
club off-limits to me. He was going to fix this.
Seething with rage, I made my way over to Antonio’s house.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 16
Lucia:
There was a different guard at the gate. “Is Mr. Moretti expecting you?” he
asked me politely, but slightly snidely. No doubt Antonio needed protection
from the droves of hysterical women beating down his door.
“No,” I replied. My voice was icy. “Tell him it’s Lucia Petrucci.”
The instant he heard my name, his attitude changed. “Miss Petrucci, my
apologies. Please, go on in.” He waved me towards the front door. He
picked up the phone in the guardhouse and said something to the person on
the other end of the line. Lights flickered on in the driveway, and the front
door opened.
Antonio stood in the doorway, and he smiled at me. “An unexpected
pleasure, little thief,” he said softly when he saw me. “But I’m delighted to
see you. Come in.”
I followed. My yelling could be done in private. I ignored the flutter in my
heart at his smile and the tone of pleasure in his voice. I was done playing
Antonio’s games.
The instant the front door shut, I turned towards him. “What the fuck,
Antonio?” I almost screamed. “At some point, without realizing it, did I
somehow become your mistress? How dare you?”
He looked puzzled. “What are you talking about, Lucia?”
“What are you talking about, Lucia?” I mimicked his tone, and watched
anger rise in his eyes. Good. I was furious. I was not going to back down.
“I’m talking about Casanova, of course.”
“You are angry that I took care of your dues?” he asked me. “You think this
makes you my mistress?” A look of amusement rose in his eyes. “The
position is currently vacant, sweet Lucia, are you applying?”
He stopped smiling at the look on my face. I was angry and I was also close
to tears. When he continued, his voice was soothing. “It was only a small
consideration, little thief. I didn’t mean to offend.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about,” I said, holding on to my anger with
difficulty. “I’m talking about how not a single person will come close to me
at the club, because you kissed me at the restaurant last night.”
His gaze cleared up. “Ah.” He looked at me. “I’m sorry, little thief. That
wasn’t my intention.”
“So you don’t care that I play at the club?” I asked, my voice openly
skeptical.
“Oh no, I didn’t say that,” he said. “I don’t like it at all. But, I didn’t intend
for this to happen either. I’ll fix it.”
“How?”
“I’m assuming that kissing some other woman in public will work its
magic,” he said. “That should put an end to most of the speculation about
you and me. Is that satisfactory?” He raised an eyebrow at me. He was
angry as well. My outburst was probably uncalled for. But his control was
greater than mine, and he held on to his temper with ease.
As for me, I found that the idea of him kissing another woman made me
want to rage and curl into a ball and whimper. I didn’t want him kissing
anyone else. Just me.
“No,” I whispered.
Another raised eyebrow. “What do you want, Lucia?”
I wasn’t going to tell him I didn’t want him to kiss anyone else. He was too
smug. I was already putty in his hands. But I wanted him and he knew it.
“I went to the club today, looking for a man to take control. To hurt me. To
use me for his pleasure. Are you going to do that for me?” My voice was
dangerously arrogant. I was goading him.
But Antonio was the wrong man to try that on. “You want to play, little
thief? Bribe me. Give me something of value.”
“What do you want?” I asked him.
“The truth.”
“What truth?” My voice was soft. I knew what he was referring to.
“I could kiss another woman, and every man in that club would be
accessible to you once again, Lucia. Tell me why that isn’t satisfactory.”
I stayed silent. Antonio just waited, watching my face. I stared at the floor
stubbornly. No. This was a gift of too much value. I wasn’t going to tell him
he mattered.
The silence grew between us. Finally, he broke it. “Stay with honesty, little
thief,” he said quietly. “Or go.”
“Honesty is a precious gift.” My voice was harsh.
When he spoke, his voice was gentler than I’d ever heard it. “I do not
undervalue the worth of what you offer, Lucia.”
A moment passed. Then another. “I don’t want you kissing another
woman,” I whispered.
He took two strides and closed the distance between us. He took my hand,
and placed it on his chest. I could hear his heart beating. “I wanted to ask
you not to go,” he said in reply. His fingers stroked my hand as he looked
me in the eye. “Stopping myself from speaking those words was the hardest
thing I’ve ever done.”
“You didn’t plan this?” I asked him. I wanted to believe. I really did.
“No, little thief. But I’m not going to lie. I’m happy no one touched you
tonight.” His other hand, the one not holding my hand captive to his chest,
came up to my face, and stroked my lower lip. I parted my mouth
automatically, softening for Antonio the way I always did.
“Why didn’t you ask me not to go?” I asked. He could have asked. I would
have obeyed. I would have wanted to please him.
He shook his head. “You aren’t ready yet,” was all he said, cryptically. His
tone changed. Crisp, curt syllables now. The time for softness would be
later. For now, he was going to hurt me and use me for his pleasure.
“You know the way downstairs, little thief. Go and wait for me.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 17
Antonio:
It would have been tacky to cheer, to do a fist-pump in the air when she had
confessed she didn’t want me kissing any other woman. My little thief. She
fought this thing between us. She wasn’t ready yet to call it what it was. She
wasn’t ready yet to hear me tell her that the idea of her with some other man
ripped a hole in my heart.
I hugged her confession to myself like the precious, rare gift that it was. My
little thief. She was a feisty, wounded kitten. She was skittish. One wrong
move on my part, and she’d run.
I didn’t want to pursue her. I wanted her to come to me openly, recognizing
her need for me and calling it by its true name. I wanted her eyes to soften
when she looked at me, the way mine did when I looked at her. I wanted her
heart to thud in her chest when I kissed her. I wanted to hear love in her
voice when she called out my name. I wanted all of her.
***
“One and a half drinks,” I said thoughtfully, as I looked at her. “Borderline
safe.”
She rolled her eyes. “What did you do? Call Liam? You could have just
asked me.”
“You are right,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
She raised her eyebrow. “An apology from Antonio Moretti,” she drawled.
“There’s a first time for everything.”
I laughed. “Little thief, from what I recall, I had to spank you silly and
threaten to withhold an orgasm for you to apologize for stealing my
painting. Should you really be mocking me for this?”
She laughed and inclined her head, conceding the point. I loved this
woman. There was so much strength in her. And so much sweetness.
She stood in the center of the dungeon, wearing a black dress that hugged
every curve of her body, and I curled my hands into fists at my side at the
thought of the men in the club gazing at her. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion I
was used to feeling, but with Lucia, I had to constantly remind myself that
the possessive, caveman attitude was not helpful. My sweet little thief
would run if I pushed too hard.
I could have used her hard, but today, I didn’t want to. I wanted to hear her
moan with pleasure, to hear her sigh my name as she came in clenching
waves around my cock. I moved behind her, and brushed her hair forwards
so it fell over one shoulder. I kissed her neck, unzipped her dress and
pushed it off her shoulders. It fell to her waist.
“Step out of it, Lucia,” I ordered. She complied without a word. I unhooked
her bra and smoothed her panties past her luscious hips. She turned to me
unbidden, naked, and she leaned into me. “Kiss me, Antonio?” she asked
softly.
I smiled at her, pleasure in my eyes. “Gladly, little thief.” We leaned into
each other, and we kissed, and our bodies held each other. Finally, I pulled
away. “I have one more condition,” I muttered. “If you want to play
tonight.”
“Full of conditions, aren’t you?” she asked wryly. “What do you want?”
“Spend the night in my bed,” I told her. She looked at me, and her gaze was
warm and direct as she smiled, and her smile was like the morning sun.
“Gladly,” she replied, echoing my words, and I felt my heart thud in my
chest. My little thief. She was so perfect.
***
Lucia:
My heart was beating in my chest. He took a step back and looked at me.
He walked away for a second, and when he came back, he had a collar in
his hands. “Will you wear it?” he asked. “Just for tonight.”
I’ll wear it for as long as you want, my mind replied, but I didn’t speak
those words that revealed too much. “Yes,” I said instead.
“Kneel,” he ordered. I immediately obeyed, my head lowered.
“No, no, little thief, I want you to look in my eyes,” his voice chided. I met
his eyes reluctantly. Too much was happening too fast. Antonio was
suddenly important. I had never wanted to spend the night in some man’s
bed, and I hadn’t done so in a very long time, but I had agreed to spend the
night with Antonio.
“Lift your hair out of the way, sweetness,” he said. I did, and he buckled the
collar on, and then leaned forward and kissed me.
I’d never let a man collar me before. I tried not to focus on that. It was just
for the play. That was all.
There was gentleness in his eyes as he looked at me, a gentleness that was a
contrast to his firm grip on my shoulders. “Sweet little thief,” he said. “Stay
here for a minute.”
He walked away, and starting laying toys on the bed. Wrist cuffs. A paddle.
A blindfold. I watched, and I realized I had parted my legs in arousal as he
moved around. Fucking pathetic.
“Come here,” he said finally, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Lay across my
lap, sweetness.”
I obeyed, and his hands stroked my ass gently. “Should I punish you for
yelling at me, Lucia?” he asked, amusement in his voice. I arched my ass
towards him, pleading mutely for my spanking. He chuckled softly.
“Does my sweet little thief want to be spanked?” he growled.
“Please,” I begged. I was shameless. There was no point hiding how much I
wanted Antonio. This close to me, he could see my wet pussy, smell the
arousal coming off me in waves. This close to Antonio, I had to be honest.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his hand reach for the blindfold. I moved
my hair aside as Antonio efficiently covered my eyes. “Can you see?” he
asked me. I shook my head.
“Good.” I could hear the smile in his voice.
The next thing I felt was something rubbing against my ass. Not his hand;
this was a rigid surface. A paddle? He had placed a paddle on the bed.
Whap. Whap. Two firm strokes on each of my butt cheeks. The paddle. I
kicked out involuntarily, and I heard him tsk in disapproval. “Oh come on,
Lucia, you know better than that,” he chided.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
“Give me your wrists,” he said. “Put them behind you.”
I moved my wrists behind me. Antonio caught hold of them, and held them
in the small of my back. His other hand rubbed the sore spots in my ass
softly. “Did it hurt, sweetness?” he asked quietly.
I shook my head. “It just startled me,” I said. “I’m sorry.”
I was still bent over his lap. His hand, the one not holding my wrists in
place, stroked my hair away from my neck. “This you apologize for?”
There was humour in his voice. “You try to steal from me. You come in
here yelling at me. But the one thing you apologize for is reacting when I
paddled you?” He chuckled. “You are a strange one, sweetness.”
The paddle traced a path on my ass again. But this time, I was better
prepared, and I held still as the paddle descended on my ass. Heat rose in
me. He wasn’t hitting me hard. This was sensual and erotic, and I relaxed
into it and just let myself feel.
“Mmm,” I moaned. “This is nice.”
“Good.” His voice was satisfied. The paddle descended on my ass again,
and I arched towards it with a groan. Again, and I spread my legs restlessly.
Yet again, and I twisted off his lap. “Please, Antonio,” I begged him. “Stop
teasing me.”
He laughed. “Remind me to spank you really hard at some point for moving
without permission,” he said.
“Later,” I pouted. I wanted to see his face. “I want to suck your dick,” I
begged.
“Demanding little thief,” he chided. “More punishment.” But I heard the
sound of the zipper, and Antonio guided me to the edge of the bed and sat
me down. He reached for my wrist, and kissed my fingers gently, and then
he guided my hand onto his cock. He was hard and ready, and I licked my
lips in anticipation. I’d only sucked his cock once, and I wanted him in my
mouth again with a desperate need.
I moved my hand up and down his shaft, exploring every inch of that
beautiful dick. Then I lowered my mouth on his head, licking the drop of
precum that had gathered, before sucking his head between my lips. He
groaned in response, and I smiled a satisfied smile.
“You are in so much trouble, Lucia,” he said, but his voice made it sound
like a sweet promise. I smiled up at him, though I couldn’t see the look on
his face, and I took more of his length into my mouth, my hand holding the
base of his cock. “Ah fuck, sweetness,” he groaned in response.
I smiled again. I liked this reaction from him. I loved knowing that I could
give him pleasure. I set a steady rhythm, my tongue massaging the sensitive
underside of his shaft, my lips clamping down on his cock, my mouth
sucking to create pressure.
His hands curled around my hair, and I relaxed my throat, thinking that he
was going to push his length deep into me. But he just held me there. I felt
connected to him with that touch, and I flushed as I realized that that
gesture of possession had set my pussy dripping even more.
“Lucia,” he groaned finally. “I want you face down on the bed, sweetness.”
I pouted inwardly. I wanted him to come in my mouth. But I obeyed
silently. “Such a good girl, Lucia,” he said, his voice approving. “Give me
your hands.” He cuffed my wrists behind my back, and pushed them up so
my elbows were bent, and my wrists were in the middle of my back. I could
feel his weight shift on the bed. Then he straddled me, and I moaned softly
and automatically tried to spread my legs.
“Shh,” he said quietly. “Just do as I tell you, sweetness. I’ll tell you if I
want you to part your legs.” I could feel his dick at the cleft between my ass
cheeks, and then he rubbed himself against my body. “I could just do this,”
he mused. “Rub myself back and forth, and come all over your back. Would
you like that, little thief?”
“I’d like you in my pussy a whole lot more,” I replied, my head turning
towards his. He laughed and moved and flipped me over so I was lying face
up.
“Spread your legs for me, sweet Lucia,” he ordered, and I complied
instantly. I could hear the familiar sound of a condom wrapper being torn
open, and then he plunged his length into me. I could feel my pussy walls
clench against his hard dick. He pulled out and entered me again, and I
whimpered in utter longing as every nerve ending in my body danced with
pleasure.
“Please,” I begged him. My wrists were uncomfortably bound behind my
back, but that wasn’t what I cared for at the moment. “Take off the
blindfold, Antonio, I want to see you.”
“Gladly, little thief,” he muttered, and his fingers were on my head, and the
blindfold came off. I blinked and looked into his eyes, and I wrapped my
legs around him and drew him further into my body.
“Ah fuck Lucia,” he groaned in response, and he started pounding. Deep
and hard and fast. Taking me with utter disregard for my bound wrists. A
disregard I shared, as I raised my hips to meet each thrust.
I kept my eyes on his. His gaze never left mine. He thrust into me for what
seemed like hours, and I groaned and arched and writhed and flailed and
begged him for more. Finally, his eyes clenched shut, and his body
stiffened. “Fuck, Lucia,” he groaned and grabbed my thighs as he thrust
into me once more before he erupted in orgasm.
Eventually, he stirred and took the condom off, knotting it and tossing it
uncaringly over the side of the bed. “That was pretty selfish of me,” he
muttered, referring to the fact that I hadn’t come. “Sorry. Come here, I’ll
make it up to you.”
“It doesn’t always have to balance out. You’ve made me come a whole lot
more, if you are keeping count,” I said.
He laughed. “I’m not keeping count.” His fingers were on the wrist cuffs,
removing them, and then he pushed me so I was again lying face down. He
straddled me at my waist, and he took each wrist in his hands, and kissed it
softly, before massaging away the ache in my shoulders. I groaned in
pleasure as his strong hands wandered over my body.
“Antonio,” I whispered.
“Hush,” he said. His fingers kneaded tight knots of stress that I didn’t even
know I was carrying, until I was limp and relaxed.
“Now,” his voice teased, “since you are all relaxed, let’s get you tensed up
again, shall we?”
He moved to the space between my legs. “Part them wider, sweetness,” he
ordered. Four fingers slid into my pussy, and I groaned as my pussy
stretched to accommodate the invasion. His other hand searched for and
found my clitoris. His thumb rubbed over that tender, pulsing mass of need,
steady strokes as his fingers pistoned in and out of my pussy, and I arched
my back and begged and exploded in orgasm.
My breathing slowly eased, and I nestled into Antonio’s body. “Thank
you,” I whispered, and he smiled and kissed my lips softly. “Thanks are
hardly necessary, sweetness.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 18
Lucia:
Eventually, he carried me upstairs to his bed and set me down. I stretched
and turned, and there it was – hanging on the wall of Antonio Moretti’s
bedroom. My Madonna. I sucked in a harsh breath, and turned to him. He
had a tiny smile playing about on his lips as he watched me.
“Is that the real painting?” I asked bluntly.
He nodded.
“Cocky bastard, aren’t you?”
He laughed aloud. “Don’t hold back, little thief,” he encouraged through the
laughter. “Tell me what you really think.”
I rolled over on the bed, and he slid next to me and pulled me into his body.
We lay there, spooning like lovers, for a long time.
“I’m going to steal it, you know,” I said finally.
“I fully expect you to try, sweetness,” he replied. “But I don’t expect you to
succeed.”
I ignored that. “Good night, Antonio,” I said instead.
He kissed my neck gently. “Good night, Lucia.”
***
When I came back to my apartment the next day, my painting of Venice was
back on my mantel. And a vase overflowing with wild flowers was on my
coffee table.
“You really are a cocky bastard, Antonio,” I said aloud. But there was a
silly smile on my face as I said it.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 19
Antonio:

And so we played. I put her painting back. She made another attempt at
stealing the Madonna. A surprisingly good attempt, one we foiled more by
dumb luck than any real skill. The guards received a tongue-lashing that
they weren’t going to forget any time soon. “She’s an amateur,” I scoffed at
them. “A curator at the museum. She’s making you guys look like idiots.
Get it together.”
But inwardly, I laughed. My sweet little thief. She didn’t back down from
the challenge, not one tiny bit.
I broke into her apartment and filled it with flowers. She stormed over and
told me that she was going to complain to the police. An idle threat and we
both knew it. We played in my dungeon instead, and she spent the night
curled into my arms.
My housekeeper smiled approvingly at her the next morning. “I like this
girl,” she announced to me when Lucia had left. Maria was in her sixties
and was a treasure.
“I do too,” I responded, my brain still in the fog it seemed to be enveloped
in when I was around Lucia.
***
Lucia:
Oh, but I was playing a very dangerous game with Antonio Moretti, and I
knew it. I was gambling with my heart.
He had a reputation. There were plenty of women in his life. They came.
They were wined and dined and then, when he tired of them, they were
shown the door. Venice was a small town. Everyone gossiped.
He would walk away without scars at the end of this thing. I wouldn’t. And
my heart had scars enough already. It didn’t need more. Yet, like a moth to
the flame, I fluttered towards him, unable to help myself.
 ***
“Have dinner with me tomorrow,” he said. We were in his bedroom. He was
sitting on the bed, leaning against the headboard. I was cradled in the space
between his legs, my back resting on his chest. His arms were around my
waist, holding me. I felt safe. Cherished.
I shook my head. “No,” I replied.
“Why not?” he countered.
“I’m not going to be one of the endless line of women you take out to
dinner,” I replied. I didn’t bother sugar-coating the words. He knew his own
reputation.
“There’s only one woman that matters, Lucia, and she’s leaning against me
right now.” His voice had a slight edge to it. There was a pang in my heart.
I wanted to believe him so much, but like every other woman in his life, I
had an expiration date. I just didn’t know what it was yet.
“No.” My voice was firm. I couldn’t stay away from his dungeon and his
bed. But I was going to draw the line at going out with him in public.
He sighed, and it was a pensive sound in the quiet. We stayed in silence for
a bit, and I cast around for a topic that would end the melancholy.
“Your guards didn’t seem to be too happy to see me,” I remarked.
He chuckled. “They aren’t happy with you at all. You are making them look
like idiots.”
“Because I’m a woman?” I asked him.
“Because you are an amateur,” he replied. “Women can be excellent
thieves. But it rankles them to be beaten by someone who works at a
museum.”
I grinned at that. My parents had taught me well. “Don’t you want to know
how I’m breaking in to your house?” I asked him.
I could hear the smile in his voice. “Well, I am curious…” he said. “But I’m
torn. This way, you see, I can get you into my dungeon and punish you for
trying to steal from me.” He kissed my neck. “I very much enjoy punishing
you, Lucia.”
I shivered at his words. What he did to me – it wasn’t punishment. For
some people, it might have been, but we both played the same way. He gave
me pleasure. Pure, unadulterated pleasure, and he gave with generosity.
“When’s my expiration date, Antonio?” The instant the words were uttered,
I wanted to wish them back. I didn’t want to hear his answer. He would
either speak the truth, and I would get hurt. Or he would lie, and I would get
hurt as well. This story didn’t have a happy ending.
“What are you talking about, sweetness?” His hands had tightened just a
little bit around my waist.
“Please. I can take the truth. Women walk in and out of your life all the
time. I realize I’m one of many.”
He laughed, but there was no humour in that sound. “You could never be
one among many, Lucia.” He paused. “I’ve never asked you about
Casanova,” he said.
“True.” It was one of the things I liked the most about Antonio. There was
no double standard.
“Not because I am entirely indifferent to it,” he continued. “But because at
the end of the day, the past is the past, and there’s nothing that can be done
about it. What matters is the present.”
His mouth found my neck again and kissed it. “I would ask that you give
me the same courtesy. I have a past, it is true, and so do you. But Lucia,
since that day you got into my car after stealing my painting, you’ve been
the only woman in my life.”
Damn it. I couldn’t argue with that logic at all. I had slept with many men,
and I would have walked away from him in an instant if he had had
anything to say about it. I could hardly judge him for his past while
insisting he couldn’t judge me for mine.
I took a deep breath. “No one else?” I tried my level best to keep the hope
out of my voice. I really liked Antonio. A lot. Far more than I’d ever liked a
guy before. The idea of him with another woman? It made me want to stab
something.
He shook his head with a wry smile. “Want to try monogamy, Lucia?”
There was a hint of vulnerability in his voice.
“Do you?” I asked directly.
“Yes, little thief.” His voice was steady.
I gazed ahead, my eyes troubled. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to be
monogamous with Antonio – because I did. The idea of sleeping with
someone else seemed foreign to me. I hadn’t stepped into the club for
weeks, not because I was concerned about whether anyone would play with
me, but because Antonio held far greater appeal. There was a comfort
between us. The more we played, the more we were in tune with each other.
He pushed me, and I let him because I trusted him completely to keep me
safe.
My hesitation was something else. Neither Antonio nor I were used to
monogamy. Things were great now. They might not be one day in the
future.
“Look,” I said, “what if we tire of each other?”
“I’m not going to lie to you and tell you that could never happen,” he
responded. “I’m as new to this as you are. But we communicate well about
sex.” That was the understatement of the year. “If we aren’t meeting each
other’s needs, I’m assuming we’ll talk about it. And do our best to sort it
out.”
“Okay,” I said. My voice was cautious, and Antonio laughed aloud.
“Hardly a ringing endorsement of my sexual prowess, little thief.”
I laughed with him, and moved my hand behind me to reach for his dick. It
was half-erect, and I licked my lips and turned so that I lay down in his lap,
my mouth on him, urging him to readiness. When he was hard, I lifted my
mouth from him, and smiled at him. “Remind me again of your sexual
prowess, Antonio,” I winked.
He laughed again, but his eyes glinted in that particular way that told me the
game was beginning between us. He reached over the side table to grab a
condom, rolled it on, and lifted me up and slid me on his hard, erect dick so
that I was seated on him, completely filled by his length in me. I shut my
eyes for a second. He felt so good.
“Go out for dinner with me,” he repeated. This time, it was an order,
accompanied by a soft pull on my nipples.
“You don’t get to order me around outside the dungeon,” I pointed out, as I
writhed in his lap from the sweet ache that shot through my nipples as they
reacted to his touch.
He inclined his head in agreement. “Please go out for dinner with me,
sweetness.” His hands stilled. His voice was still hard, but there was
vulnerability in his eyes. He didn’t allow himself to soften a lot, Antonio.
He was the head of Thieves Guild. Softness was not really part of the job
description. And the way he had grown up hadn’t allowed for much
tenderness either. But it was still there, and I needed to remind myself that
he had feelings as well, feelings that were just as capable as mine of getting
hurt.
I smiled at him, and lifted my hips up slightly, and lowered myself down on
him again. “Will you let me pay?”
He growled at the movement, and rolled his eyes at my request. “If it
matters to you, Lucia, then pay. It’s just money.”
“Okay,” I said, smiling sweetly up at him. “I’m going to take you to my
favourite restaurant in all of Venice tomorrow night.”
“That’s tomorrow night, my pretty little thief,” he said, his voice dominant.
“Right now, move those hips and ride me.”
I laughed. “Yes Sir,” I said and complied.
“Hands behind your back, sweetness,” he ordered. His eyes gleamed. In this
position, we were so close together. Our noses were almost touching, and it
was strangely the most intimate thing we’d ever done. I leaned forward on
impulse and kissed him. “I’m happy about the monogamy thing,” I said.
Honesty was nerve-racking. I swear my heart was stuck in my throat as I
said those words.
He smiled at me, and kissed me back, his hands around my hair, pulling me
into him. “Me too.” We stayed in that position for a little while, just
touching each other. Then, he moved his hands off my hair. He stroked my
arms, and laced his fingers in mine, and he pulled my hands behind my
back, and held them there.
“Now, Lucia,” he said evenly. “Move those hips. I’m not going to tell you
again.”

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 20
Antonio:
The restaurant she took me to was the tiniest hole-in-the-wall. She eyed me
with a faint challenge in her eyes as we took our seats. “Are you okay?”
I laughed at her. “Lucia, did you miss the part when I said I grew up an
orphan? When I was a child, the idea of having the freedom of being able to
walk into a restaurant and order anything off the menu was something I
couldn’t even begin to imagine.”
I could tell that she was immediately abashed. “Sorry,” she said. “You are
really rich, and evidently, I have a chip on my shoulder about it. I didn’t
think.”
We placed our orders and sipped our wine.
“I’m sorry,” she repeated.
I shook my head. “Don’t worry about it,” I advised her. “Tell me why me
being rich bothers you.”
“We don’t live in the same world,” she said. “I worry about things like rent.
I count my pennies to pay for Casanova’s membership.” She frowned at me.
“Casanova is ridiculously expensive.”
“You are paid up for the year,” I pointed out with a grin.
She furrowed her forehead. “Why aren’t you asking me not to go to
Casanova?” she asked.
“I thought we were talking about why you don’t like me being rich,” I said.
She looked at me with a level gaze, and I knew we were going to get back
to that conversation at some point. “I don’t have bodyguards following me
around. I don’t own four cars.”
I frowned in slight embarrassment. I should have never told her that. Four
cars was a little ridiculous, especially in Venice, where you could barely
drive anyway.
“Can I disagree?” I asked her. “Me being rich – that’s just a distraction.
Because I think we are very alike. For starters, we both like art.”
She giggled at that, and my heart fluttered. “I like art,” she pointed out with
a smile. “You like stealing art.”
I winked at her. “I’m the museum’s biggest donor.”
She took a sip of wine. “Are you serious?” she asked. I nodded.
“Why?”
“I really do like art, Lucia,” I replied. “Besides, I don’t actually steal art.
Just the Madonna, that one time. I steal other stuff.”
“You stole my painting,” she laughed.
I grinned at her, and I reached out to hold her hand. “I borrowed your
painting,” I corrected. “That was to make a point. One that didn’t take,
evidently.” I had no doubt she was planning her next attempt at stealing the
Madonna.
“Four cars,” she muttered. She’d noticed my embarrassment, and she
wasn’t afraid to use it against me.
I winced, laughing a little. “Okay, you’ve got me. Four cars is excessive.”
Our food appeared. Plates of steaming hot pasta, and we dug in.
“Delicious.” I raised my glass in appreciation. “Is this actually your
favourite restaurant?”
She nodded.
“Thank you for bringing me here,” I said. I was holding off on the
declarations of love, because Lucia was skittish, and I didn’t want her to
bolt. But it mattered that she shared a little of her life with me, and I wasn’t
going to pretend it didn’t.
“Tell me why you aren’t asking me not to play at Casanova?”
I sighed. “It’s your choice,” I said. “I’m not going to make it for you.”
She looked at me evenly. “I didn’t say you could. But you could ask.”
I returned her look. “I’m not going to ask.”
“Will you tell me why?” Her tone was direct.
“Of course,” I replied. “I don’t want to ask because you might do it. And
because it might haunt you one day.”
“Would you play there?” she asked me.
I shook my head. “I can’t. It’ll make people nervous if they see me there.
I’m the head of Thieves Guild. It’ll give me too much leverage to know
who plays there. That’s why it’s a secret.”
She nodded. “I don’t want to play there, not when we are dating.” She
paused, and then she looked at me. “Thank you for not asking though.”
“It wasn’t easy, you know. I wanted to growl and thump my chest and claim
you as mine.” I smiled at her to let her know I was joking.
“Yes, thumping your chest would be very sexy indeed,” she said dryly. But
her hand curled around mine, and again, my heart warmed.
***
After dinner, we went to her place, and she’d extended her hand out to me,
smiled, and taken me to her bed. I felt like the king of the world when I
walked back into my house, much, much later that night.
Tatiana was in my kitchen when I came in. She was sipping a glass of red
wine with the bottle next to her, feet bare, dangling from the high counter. I
grinned and got my own glass, she filled it up.
“How was the shoot?” I asked her. She’d been away in Croatia for a few
weeks for a movie role.
“Good,” she said. She sounded a bit despondent.
“What’s up, Tatiana?” I asked her directly. Tatiana and me. It was a long
story. The short version was that we went way back.
She shrugged. “I hate my work.”
I looked at her. “What happened?”
“Another director asked me to suck his cock for a movie role. Same old.”
Her voice had a forced calm in it.
I could offer to step in and protect her, but that wasn’t what she wanted or
needed. She just needed me to be a friend and listen as she grumbled. I took
a sip of wine and made a sympathetic face. Inside though, I mourned the
sweetness she had lost as she was exposed to the seedy underbelly of Italian
filmmaking. She’d built a veneer of worldliness and cynicism around her as
protection.
“Still,” she said, taking a sip of her wine. “Maybe this movie will be the one
that’ll change things, right?” She changed the topic. “What’s been going on
with you?”
“I met a girl,” I told her.
She raised an eyebrow. “A girl? You? Tell me more.” I wasn’t in the habit
of talking about the women I was involved with, and she grinned a smile of
pure amusement. I looked at her quizzically as she dissolved into laughter.
My eyes narrowed. “Did Enzo say something?”
She giggled. “We shed tears of laughter,” she said. “Antonio Moretti. In
love.”
“I didn’t tell Enzo I was in love,” I said. She laughed some more, and I
realized I had just walked into her trap. My lips twitched. Tatiana was a lot
smarter than people gave her credit for. They saw the big breasts and the
blonde hair and they decided she was a bimbo. She was anything but.
“Nice to know I’m keeping the two of you entertained,” I said dryly.
“Tell me about her.”
I smiled. I poured her another glass of wine, and topped up my glass, and I
talked and talked about Lucia.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 21
Lucia:
It was December. I was still seeing Antonio, and still making rather futile
attempts at the Madonna. Tonight, we were hanging out in his kitchen.
I eyed Antonio. I sensed a fight coming, and I was bracing myself for it.
“I don’t want to go with you to the Doge’s Palace Gala,” I said. There. I’d
said it. Now I squared my shoulders and prepared for the fight.
“Why not?” His tone was mild. We were cooking dinner. I was in charge of
chopping vegetables and Antonio was tending to the sauce on the stove.
Maria’s daughter was about to have a baby, and she’d taken a few days off
to go and visit her. I didn’t think Antonio could survive, but he had
surprised me by being an excellent cook. And he could even do his own
dishes.
“You are the museum’s largest donor. I don’t want people looking at me
differently at work.”
“You do realize that most of the city already knows we are dating?” he
pointed out.
I nodded. “That’s gossip, and I can’t do anything about it,” I responded.
“Well, I guess I could hide out in your dungeon and never go out with you
anywhere, but that seems a bit dramatic.”
He grinned at me from the stove. The heat had given his face the slightest
flush, and he looked adorable. I fought the desire to walk over and touch
him. The last time I had done that, we had set our dinner on fire, and it had
taken three days for the burned smell in the kitchen to dissipate.
“But I don’t need to confirm or deny it by going with you to the Gala.”
“Okay,” he said.
“Really?” I was startled. I was expecting to fight about this.
He shrugged. “It’s your career. You know best. I’m not thrilled that you
don’t want to acknowledge you are dating me, but that’s your call to make.”
“That’s very grown-up of you,” I said cautiously. I honestly had been
expecting a scene. I realized I should have given Antonio more credit. He
had always treated me with respect. I moved the veggies over to the stove,
and slid them into a heated skillet.
“Did you expect me to pout and throw a tantrum?” He sounded amused.
“Give me a little credit, Lucia. Can you grab some plates, please?”
I brought a couple of bowls over, and he slid pasta and veggies onto them.
We took our plates over to the table in the corner where Antonio ate most of
his meals, and we dug in without speaking.
“Why so quiet, Lucia?” he asked me, as the silence between us grew.
“You aren’t who I expected you to be,” I replied.
He grinned at me. “Neither are you, little thief. What are you planning for
my Madonna next?”
I laughed. “I’m hardly going to tell you when I’m going to steal your
painting,” I said.
He raised his eyebrows. “As I remember, you did, Lucia. You wrote me a
note? Back in the summer?” He smirked, and I groaned as the memory of
that particular letter came flooding back.
“Umm, I might have been attracted to you,” I said.
He held out his hand, and I linked my fingers in his. “Come show me,” he
said. “You want to play?”
I nodded. We made our way downstairs.
***
Antonio:
So I knew Lucia was attracted to me, and she knew I was attracted to her.
But to hear her say it?
It felt good. Really, really good.
And when she went to the cupboard where the toys were stored, and pulled
out the collar we’d used just once, and handed it to me, it felt a lot better.
Because actions had meaning, and there was a very specific message she
was giving me along with the collar.
I looked at her intently.
“Stay with honesty or go, right?” she asked with a little smile. “Aren’t those
the rules here?”
I just nodded. I don’t think I could have formed words in that moment.
She knelt in front of me, and lifted her hair, her eyes meeting mine.
“Please?”
“Why?” My voice was slightly hoarse. I kept my eyes on her face.
“I’ve always trusted you in here,” she said, gesturing to the dungeon. “But
outside? What you said upstairs about my career matters.” She looked at the
collar. “Please?”
Neither of us were interested in anything resembling 24/7 submission.
There were plenty of times when we’d had vanilla sex; many nights when
we’d just curled up in bed and watched TV. In many ways, this wasn’t a
major gesture.
But I knew Lucia. I knew the significance of what she offered. This was a
commitment. And when I buckled the collar around her neck, we would be
bound to each other.
“Stand up, sweetness,” I said. I was vaguely surprised my voice wasn’t
shaking. She lifted herself up, still holding her hair out of the way, her gaze
on mine. I placed the collar around her neck, and as I tightened the straps, it
felt like the sweet touch of a hand on my heart.
We both just stayed there for a long instant. Then, she reached to me, and
laced her fingers in mine. She gulped, and I did too, and then we both
laughed a little as the tension in the room slowly eased.
When she finally spoke, her voice was wry. “Well, neither of us ran
screaming from the dungeon, so that’s a win.”
I laughed. My sweet little thief. Gods, I loved her.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 22
Lucia:
He hadn’t really even touched me, and I already felt like I’d run a marathon.
I think we were both a little surprised by the emotional impact of what we’d
done.
“Want to take a break from this room for a bit?” His voice was quiet.
“Please,” I said with a small laugh. I was still wearing my clothes, but I was
also wearing a collar round my neck. My fingers reached out and touched it.
“Do you want to take it off while we go upstairs?” He sounded relaxed.
“It’s really just for the play.”
I shook my head. “I’ll take it off tonight, but can I keep it on now?” The
collar was messing with my head, and in a good way. Antonio’s eyes kept
returning to it, and there was heat in his eyes. I felt sexual and owned and
cherished.
We went upstairs, and we cleared up the dishes. Antonio washed up; I dried.
We talked about movies and art and I teased him about his cars and watched
him flush in embarrassment. Then, when we were done with the chores, he
turned to me and he pointed to a spot near the kitchen table.
“Go stand there.” I obeyed.
“Take off your clothes.” I wordlessly got naked, tossing my clothes
carelessly aside, my blood pounding in anticipation. He shook his head in
mild disapproval. “Fold them up, Lucia,” he chided, and I rolled my eyes at
him as I complied.
“Don’t be a brat,” he said. There was laughter in his voice. “Kneel where
you are standing, please.”
I got onto my knees, the tile cold against me. I could feel my pussy start to
clench in arousal and drip in anticipation. Goose bumps rose on my skin as
I shivered slightly in sexual tension.
“Is it cold in here?” he asked immediately.
“Just anticipation,” I murmured.
He laughed. “Do you want me to take the edge off, sweetness? Make you
come?”
“Yes please,” I said promptly. It was most likely a futile appeal. He would
eventually let me orgasm, but it would be after he had brought me to the
edge again and again. He would draw it out until every muscle in my body
was screaming for release. Until my pleas turned incoherent; until I was
convinced with every fibre of my being that I was going to crash into
orgasm whether he willed it or not. I would be edged until I could no longer
hold back, and then, and only then, would I be allowed to come. The
sweetest cruelty.
He walked in front of me, pulled up a chair and seated himself on it. He
unzipped his fly, and pulled his cock out. He was already erect, and I licked
my lips as I met his gaze. He just chuckled.
“Spread your knees apart,” he ordered, one hand stroking his cock. I
watched transfixed for an instant until my brain caught up, and I complied.
My eyes stayed on his hand though, pumping his cock up and down. Gods,
I loved watching a man stroke himself in front of me. It was such an
intimate act.
His eyes were on me, a slight smile playing about his lips. “So, no blindfold
then?” he asked me with an amused edge in his voice.
“Please, no,” I begged. I wanted to watch him come. I wanted to see him
clench and explode, and I wanted to lick the ropes of come off his fingers
and his stomach after.
“You want to watch?” His voice was a thin sheet of control stretched taut
over desire. A shiver of anticipation ran through me.
“I want to watch,” I affirmed. “Please,” I added submissively. The wrong
tone, and the blindfold would come out.
He laughed softly.
“Cup your breasts,” he ordered. “And squeeze. Gently.” His hand moved up
and down on his cock, and I moaned as I watched, following his orders
without really thinking about what he was asking me.
“No, no,” he chided. “If you don’t pay attention to what you are doing, I’ll
blindfold you.”
I gulped and nodded. “Sorry,” I said meekly.
“Put your thumb in your mouth and wet it,” he directed, a ragged edge in
his voice. I obeyed.
“Good, now rub your thumb across your nipple.” I watched my breasts as
my nipple swelled under the touch of my thumb.
“Run your fingernail over it,” he ordered, and my pussy dripped as I
obeyed, the slight pressure of my nail a delicious sensation on my engorged
nipple.
“Very nice,” he said approvingly. “Do the same thing to the other nipple.”
I moved my thumb to the other breast, but he stopped me, shaking his head
in disapproval. “Put your thumb in your mouth and wet it first,” he ordered,
and I did, my cheeks flushed and my eyes sparkling with pleasure as I
obeyed him.
“Are you wet, sweetness?” His voice a smoky rasp that sent need surging
through me.
“I am, Sir,” I replied, and I blushed at the fact that I called him Sir. The
collar was messing with my head in more ways than one. His lips twitched
at that, but he let it slide.
“Show me,” he ordered instead. “Part those lips with your fingers, let me
see how wet you are.”
I spread my knees as wide as they would go, and my fingers opened my
pussy so that I was exposed to his burning gaze. Though my body was
tingling in anticipation, I was also strangely relaxed as my lover’s eyes
bored into my wet snatch.
“Stick two fingers in,” he ordered. He had stopped pumping his cock as he
had watched me play with my nipples, but he stroked his hard member
again. His eyes never left my body.
I pushed two fingers into my dripping folds, and groaned as my hips moved
involuntarily to suck my fingers deeper. He laughed at my movement, and
shook his head. Stay still. Damn it.
“Stick your fingers in your mouth, sweetness. Show me how good you
taste.”
I obeyed, and I deliberately put on a show for him, my tongue snaking out
and licking each finger delicately before I pushed both fingers in my mouth
and hollowed in my cheeks. He groaned – a sweet loss of control, and his
hand moved slightly faster on his cock. I could see the precum glisten on
the tip, and I wanted to lick it. I growled deep in my throat in need.
“What do you want, little thief?” he asked me.
“I want to suck your cock, Sir,” I responded, blushing. The collar was
putting me in a place where the Sir came out instinctively, and it was a
pretty transparent tell.
He smiled at me. “Crawl forward,” he suggested, with a glint in his eyes.
I grinned back. “Gladly,” I winked, and I did an exaggerated, cat-like prowl
towards him, keeping my thighs tightly pressed together to increase the
aching of my pussy. His eyes were hot on my face as I moved forward, and
there was open appreciation in his face.
“Next time you do that, I think I’ll add nipple clamps,” he said thoughtfully.
“With little bells that chime as you crawl. Would you like that, sweetness?”
Fuck yes. The image almost made me come without any physical
simulation whatsoever.
“Did you come just now, little thief?” he asked me, his voice stern.
“No, but I’m really close,” I admitted. “If I beg you to let me come, will it
work?”
He laughed. “Try,” he suggested, with an amused look in his eyes. Oh, I
knew that look. I was in for a one heck of a night.
“Please, may I come, Sir?” I didn’t know how he felt about the Sir, but I
figured it didn’t hurt. And right now, I’d do almost anything if he’d let me
come.
“Didn’t you say you wanted to suck my cock, little thief?” he chided. “You
must learn to focus. Come on, get your pretty little mouth on my dick.”
I gulped. Sucking him always made me insanely wet. I was already
trembling in arousal. I didn’t want to come without permission, but it was
going to be a close thing. Luckily, he knew it as well. “Oh, you can touch
yourself while you suck my cock,” he said. “And you can orgasm.” I could
hear the smile in his voice.
I looked at him, arousal balanced with suspicion. I’d usually have to wait
much longer and beg a lot harder. What was he planning?
He looked at me impassively. “Are you planning on being all day?” he
asked me politely, but with a snap in his voice that told me I was about to
earn myself a punishment if I didn’t get my mouth on his dick in a hurry.
I lowered my face onto his cock with a smile, gripped the base of his shaft
with one hand, and my tongue snaked out and licked precum off his head.
My other hand sneaked down to my pussy, and I spread the dripping
wetness around my clitoris, and started tracing tight circles around it. As I
got closer and closer to my climax, my pace on Antonio’s cock got more
frantic, until I heard him groan, and his hands came out to grab my head
and hold me in place while he spurted ropes of come down my throat.
His climax, his grip on my hair - that was all it took. I rubbed harder,
tighter, and I let myself explode, shaking and groaning and slumping as the
clenching waves of pleasure swept through my body.
“Mmm,” I moaned eventually, leaning against Antonio’s legs as I sat on the
floor. The tile was shockingly cold against my ass.
“You aren’t done,” Antonio’s voice pulled me out of my daze. “Water?”
I nodded, and drank the glass of water he handed me. I had climaxed on his
kitchen floor. I didn’t think I was ever going to be able to look at Maria, his
sixty-year old housekeeper without blushing.
“What’s the matter?”
“Maria,” I said ruefully, and my lips twitched at his startled bark of
laughter.
“She’ll pray for our souls,” Antonio said dryly. “Come now, drink up, take a
bathroom break if you need, then I want you on top of the table, ass at the
edge, keeping those legs spread.”
I wandered into the washroom in a daze, running my fingers through my
hair in an attempt at curbing the tangles. My fingers touched the collar
again, and I examined my face in the mirror. I didn’t look different, but I
felt different. A strange languor was in me as I ceded control to Antonio.
Wearing a collar all the time would do nothing for me, but right now? At
this moment, the collar put me in a really good place.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 23
Lucia:
Antonio was still seated on his chair as I returned, and there was a bottle of
lube in his hands. I sat on the table, and scooted my ass right to the edge,
and spread my legs wide open so that he was between them.
“Now Lucia, there was a time, a long time ago, when I asked you how
many fingers…”
Fuck. He was going to fist me. I whimpered in helpless arousal and
anticipation.
“Do you remember?”
I mewled a noise that was supposed to be a yes.
“How many fingers would you like, sweetness?” he asked me. His eyes
held mine and I could see the heat in them.
We didn’t have to do this. I could say four, and he would push four fingers
into my dripping pussy, and he would make me come. And I would have an
amazing time, and he wouldn’t be the slightest bit put out that I didn’t want
him to fist me.
But this was my deepest, darkest desire. To be so completely under the
control of a partner I trusted so much that I would let him insert his entire
hand into my pussy. “All of them,” I whispered as an answer, and he smiled
and leaned forward and kissed my clitoris softly.
“It might not work,” I started to say in worry.
“Hush,” he chided. “Stop stressing. If it doesn’t work, we’ll try something
else. The journey in this case is as fun as the destination, so lie back and
relax.”
“Now,” his voice was calm, as he pushed two well-lubricated fingers inside
of me. “Don’t forget your safe word,” he cautioned.
I nodded. I wasn’t about to forget it.
“Close your eyes, sweetness,” he ordered. His fingers pumped in and out of
me, and his mouth was on my clitoris, and well, well before I thought I was
even close, I crashed into orgasm, and lay there writhing helplessly on the
table.
His hands held me down, and he wouldn’t let me close my legs. “Keep
them parted, Lucia,” he snapped. “We are just getting started here.”
“Yes Sir,” I muttered compliantly. I could hear the slight crack of plastic as
Antonio opened the lid of the lube, and then, he had four fingers in me, and
he was pushing steadily, rotating them so that each and every bit of my
vaginal passage came into contact with his curved fingers.
“I’m going to push deeper, past my knuckles,” he said. “Stop me if it’s too
painful.” His voice was quiet and even. His calmness seeped into me and I
relaxed. I could stop this anytime, and Antonio would be fine. We were
playing together – we would both have fun.
“Okay,” I said.
He pushed, his thumb circling my clitoris in soothing circles. He wasn’t
trying to make me come. He was just touching me with enough softness so
that pleasure filled my body. A brief pain, a slight feeling of stretching, and
then, he growled softly.
“You should see this, Lucia,” he said, his voice appreciative. “The lips of
your pussy are puffed around my fingers, and I can see you drip.” I could
hear myself as his fingers moved around in me, wet squishy sounds of
arousal.
“How many fingers?” I asked him. I wished I could see what he was doing.
Next time, I was going to ask for a mirror. Or a camera.
“Four, all the way to my knuckles,” he said. He moved them in and out of
me, and each time, there was a slight edge of pain that heightened the
pleasure that rushed in. “I can feel every twitch of your muscles, sweetness,
and you have no idea what that does to me.”
His voice was less calm now and more ragged with lust. I smiled when I
heard that edge in his voice, and I said the words that I knew would bring
him closer to that edge. “Add your thumb, please?” I asked him.
“Ah fuck Lucia,” he muttered. He pulled out entirely, and I could hear the
squishing sound of lube all over his hand, and he also squirted some
directly into my pussy, using his fingers to spread it around my snatch.
“Stop me anytime it gets too much, sweetness,” he warned me, and he
curled his thumb into his palm, and pushed his fingers steadily into me. I bit
my lip as the pain momentarily flared in my body, but it faded quickly, and
then, I felt his hand in every inch of my pussy.
“Antonio,” I groaned.
“I’m going to start moving my hand now, Lucia,” he warned.
“Not too hard?” I asked.
“No, of course not, sweetness,” he replied soothingly, and I felt silly about
the need for reassurance, but still glad I had asked. Antonio was a
considerate lover who always gave me pleasure, even when he was
spanking the living daylight out of me, and there was no reason for my
nervousness. Except he did have a fist in my pussy. Some nervousness was
understandable.
He pulled out just a little, and then he pushed back gently. I could feel my
pussy open for him, and it was a strange feeling, unlike any other that I’d
felt. “Is that okay?” he asked me.
“Go just a bit harder,” I panted. I could feel the sweat bead on my brow as
he took me in this most intimate of ways. I lifted my upper body and
watched as his hand disappeared inside my pussy, and it was the most erotic
image I’d ever seen in my life.
“Put your fingers in your mouth, get them nice and wet, and put them on
your clitoris,” Antonio ordered. I obeyed, and rubbed my clitoris, as his
hand pushed inside me, and all I could feel was intense pleasure. I wanted
to grab his wrist and push it inside me, deeper, so he could totally possess
me, body and soul. I’d never given myself this way to a man before, and I
was pretty confident I’d never give myself in this way to another man
again.
I shivered, as I felt my arousal build, the pressure of his hand in my pussy
speeding up my climax, and then, I came, every muscle in my body
stiffening as my orgasm swept over me, and I just hung on and let each and
every pulse shoot through my body in helpless surrender.
As I felt the clenching, thrashing waves slowly subside, I could feel him
slide his fist out of my body, and then he leaned forward, and he rested his
head on my hips, and kissed me gently.
“You are so beautiful, Lucia,” he whispered. “Your pussy is so wet, so
pretty, so gaping open for me.”
“Gaping open, that doesn’t sound like a good thing,” I groaned.
“It’s a very good thing,” Antonio replied. I could hear the note of male
pride in his voice, and my lips twitched.
I moved my fingers to touch my pussy. It felt sensitive. I was going to be in
a world of pain tomorrow. “I’m going to be sore,” I remarked.
He laughed. “Yes, you are.” Again, the sound of satisfaction in his voice,
and I grinned to myself. “Want some water?” he asked me.
“Please,” I muttered. I drank the water he handed me, and then just lay there
on his kitchen table, my legs still open; my body unable to find the energy
to move.
I could feel his fingers unbuckling the collar on my neck, and setting it
aside. “Come on, sweetness,” he said, his voice gentle and indulgent. He
swept me into his arms, and carried me up the stairs to his bed, and he
tucked blankets around me, and lay down next to me.
“Thank you,” I whispered, as I curled my body into his.
He kissed my neck, and stroked my hair, and I fell asleep in his arms. Right
before sleep came though, I put my lips near his ear, and whispered, I’m
still going to steal your painting, you know. I fell asleep to the sound of his
warm chuckle.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 24
Antonio:
I got dressed for the Doge’s Palace Gala, my mind entirely on Lucia. I
hadn’t seen her in a week. She’d been in London for work, arranging the
details for an exhibit she was in charge of. ‘Religious Iconography in
Contemporary Art.’ Lots of modern art was going to be on display, and
modern art wasn’t a mainstay at the Doge’s Palace. She had been
understandably nervous about it. The Doge’s Palace didn’t really do a lot of
ground-breaking exhibits, content mostly to display the furnishings, the
tapestries and the artwork of the Doges. She’d texted me today though, and
I couldn’t wait to see her tonight.
Once I arrived, I looked for Lucia, but the damn room was crowded. A
waiter walked by with a tray of champagne, and I helped myself as my eyes
searched the gallery.
“Antonio,” a familiar voice slurred next to me.
I turned towards Tatiana. “Tia, you are drunk,” I said, my voice concerned.
Tatiana wasn’t a heavy drinker, and she rarely let her hair down. “What’s
the matter?”
She swayed on her feet, and I put an arm around her waist to steady her,
silently cursing as I did so. Venice was a hothouse of gossip. It’d be all
around the city that I’d touched Tatiana. The speculation would reignite the
gossip about my relationship with Lucia. But Tatiana was one of my oldest
friends, and right now, I judged her need greater than my concern about idle
gossip.
“Come on,” I urged her, drawing her towards a more secluded corner of the
museum. “What’s wrong?”
She was masked, as was I, so I couldn’t see the expression in her eyes, but I
could definitely see the tears fall down her cheeks. I swore, and pulled her
into my arms, and let her cry. As she cried, I tried to shield her from the
room. Tatiana was proud, and tomorrow, she’d be mortified that she had
lost control in front of a room crowded with people. She didn’t reply, her
shoulders shaking from her sobs.
And because life was just fucked up like that, right at that instant, Lucia and
Liam Callahan turned into the corner we were in.
***
She’d taken off her mask, and was shaking her hair loose, laughing at
something Liam was saying. And then, she saw the two of us, and I
watched the emotions flit through her eyes. Recognition. Disbelief. Shock.
Betrayal. And then, she just turned and walked away.
“Fuck,” I swore. I had to go after her. “Liam, watch Tatiana for me, please,”
I ordered, and went after her in the direction she had taken. I’d apologize to
both Liam and Tatiana later. Right now, my heart was pounding. I just
needed to find her and explain the truth about Tatiana and me before it was
too late.

OceanofPDF.com
Chapter 25
Lucia:
I sat in a staff-only room tucked away in the back of the museum as the
night passed. The first flush of betrayal had faded, and what was left was
anger. The hurt would come later.
Antonio was the one suggesting monogamy. Evidently, that only applied to
me.
Had I walked in on them kissing, it would have hurt less. But he had held
Tatiana Cordova with tenderness. I knew that tenderness. I owned that
tenderness. He had promised it to me the night he had buckled a collar
around my neck. But I had been a fool for believing him, for believing his
quiet words about wanting only me. For believing his lies about Casanova,
another ploy to control me. For believing any of it.
Eventually, I straightened my shoulders. I wasn’t going to slink away
quietly, shamed by something he had done. He was the one who had
promised monogamy and had failed. I was going to yell and scream and
express my anger. Then, I’d walk away. But first, I was going to tell him
exactly what I thought of him.
***
The main gallery had mostly cleared of people by the time I left the staff
room. It was really late. I looked at my watch and winced. Three in the
morning. Antonio would be back at his house by now. In bed, maybe with
Tatiana Cordova. I tried not to let that image form in my head, but I failed.
“Lucia?” I winced again as I saw Enzo Peron. I hadn’t seen him for months,
not since the last time I was at the club.
Enzo. Shit. Shit. Shit. Antonio had talked about Casanova being leverage.
Knowing who played at the club was useful when you wanted people to
cooperate with you. Including Enzo Peron, the Chief of Police. Enzo, who
had no idea that he revealed a hidden bit of himself to the head of Thieves
Guild in Venice.
I wanted to tell him. I really, really did. But as furious as I was with
Antonio, something held me back. Antonio had betrayed me. But I would
listen to his explanation first. I owed him that much, for the months we had
spent together.
“Is something the matter, Lucia?” Enzo’s voice was concerned.
I shook my head, but my eyes filled with tears.
“Lucia? What’s wrong?”
I swallowed. Enzo was a friend, and at this moment, I badly needed one.
Half the city already thought I was Antonio Moretti’s mistress. Enzo had no
doubt heard the rumours.
“I’ve been sleeping with Antonio Moretti,” I said, my voice doleful. “But it
was all based on a lie.” Antonio had promised me he would be faithful. He
had stood next to me with heat in his eyes, and told me that I had ruined
him for other women. I had doubted him at the start, leery of attachment
after the way my parents had died, but then, I had come to trust him. I had
been such a fool. I fought back the hot tears that threatened to overflow
again.
“What lie?” Enzo sounded puzzled.
“He said there would be no other women,” I said. My voice was bitter.
“There were other women?” Enzo raised an eyebrow. “Who?”
I glared at Enzo. He looked levelly at me. I knew that look. I’d seen that
look at the club. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get the soundest
spanking of my life. “Tatiana Cordova,” I said, looking at the floor. I
couldn’t look at him. I was engulfed in humiliation and shame. Antonio had
spoken words with a voice so sincere that I had suspended my skepticism
and believed him. A fool and a fool and a fool once again.
He laughed, a sound of utter amusement. My gaze shot to his face in shock.
I expected that I would be the target of snide laughter when the word got
out. I hadn’t expected it from Enzo Peron.
But there was nothing snide about the look Enzo gave me. “Ah, Lucia,” he
said, shaking his head. “You do jump to conclusions. And because I like
you, and I like Antonio, I’m going to help you children sort this out.” He
placed special, pointed emphasis on the word children.
“Wait. What?” The room was reeling around me. Nothing made sense.
“Sit,” Enzo’s voice snapped at me in his Dominant voice, and I sat
automatically. He smirked slightly. My lips twitched despite myself. “Did
Antonio ever tell you where he grew up?”
“He said he was an orphan,” I replied.
“He was. And I was as well. And Tatiana. We grew up together. We were
the Three Musketeers. All for one and one for all.”
I gazed at him in shock. “He isn’t sleeping with her?”
Enzo shook his head. “As best I know, they only slept together once. When
we were twenty. One drunk night. It isn’t that kind of relationship.” He
paused. “We have a bond built through adversity, the three of us. But I
know he is telling the truth. Since he met you, you have been the only
woman in his bed and in his playroom.”
“Oh.” My voice was small. Enzo was right; I had jumped to conclusions.
Shaped by the way my father had abandoned me, I had automatically
assumed the worst of a man who had never given me reason to doubt him.
“What are you going to do, Lucia?”
I stood. “I’m going to find Antonio.”
He smiled at me. “Excellent choice.”
***
I wasn’t sure the guards would let me in. But they parted silently, and the
lights in the driveway twinkled on. The front door was ajar.
I knocked and entered. Antonio stood just inside the doorway.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. Enzo told me
about the three of you.”
“I should have told you myself,” he said. His voice was level. “I’m sorry
too.”
We just looked at each other. Neither of us was perfect. I was skittish.
Antonio kept his secrets. We would both have to learn how to be in a
relationship.
Finally, he smiled a relaxed smile. It lit up his face. I furrowed my brow at
him. “Why are you smiling?” I asked him.
He laughed. “It won’t be boring, will it? Us. This journey.”
He stayed where he was, but I moved closer, till I was standing so close I
could feel the heat from his body. He opened his arms, and I sighed and
moved in and leaned into him. “Not the slightest bit boring,” I replied
softly.
He smiled and put my hand over his heart. “There’s no one else for me,
little thief,” he said. “I know,” I replied. We stayed like that, clinging to
each other just inside the doorway, till at last, Antonio pulled away from me
and eyed me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath; we wouldn’t be
playing tonight.
“Let’s go to bed, sweetness.”

OceanofPDF.com
Epilogue
Lucia:
July 29.
This year, I wouldn’t fail my parents. The Madonna wasn’t meant to be. I
had tried and tried again, and every single time, I kept ending up in Antonio
Moretti’s dungeon, at the receiving end of his whip. A whip I craved
deeply.
I didn’t want to think about Antonio. But my mind wandered to the look in
his eyes as we played. Everyone else saw hardness and steel in Antonio.
When we were together, I saw softness and warmth there instead.
Our relationship had really grown in the last few months. We went out
openly, Venice gossip be damned. The museum director had looked at me
thoughtfully a few times, but he hadn’t mentioned Antonio, and neither had
I. I was still expected to do a good job. Nothing was going to get handed to
me because I was Antonio Moretti’s girlfriend. It was exactly what I
wanted.
Things were good. Except for that one tiny little phrase we were both
holding off saying. I love you. I wasn’t sure why, but with each day we
didn’t say those words, we invested them with an importance they didn’t
deserve. We’d made a promise to each other the day I had handed him the
collar and asked him to place it around my neck. I wasn’t seeing anyone
else. He wasn’t either. Our bodies made constant promises to each other, but
our voices stayed silent, neither of us wanting to say those words first.
Stay focused, I whispered to myself fiercely. I was killing time in a little
café. In ten minutes, I’d make my move. I’d been watching the house for
weeks now, the house that held the painting I wanted to steal this year.
When their shift ended and the guards changed, my window of opportunity
would appear. Mere minutes, but it would be enough.
A hand slid across mine, and I jumped, startled, as Antonio eased himself
into the chair opposite me.
“Can you really move on to the next job?” he asked me with a slight smile.
“What about the Madonna?”
I looked at him. “I failed. I got over it.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Did you indeed, love?”
He’d never called me love before. Always Lucia. Or little thief. Never love.
My heart started beating in my chest and I stared mutely at him.
“I came to make you a proposition, Lucia. A way to keep the Madonna.”
His voice was very steady.
“How?” My tone was harsh.
“As a wedding present.” He looked at me, and raised my hand to his lips,
turning it over and kissing my palm and my wrist. “Little thief, I love you.
Will you marry me?”
For eight years, I had stolen a painting every year. Until, one day, I crossed
the powerful head of Thieves’ Guild, and without meaning to, I had fallen
in love with him. The serenity that I sought in the painting of the Madonna?
I had found that serenity with Antonio.
“Yes.”
***
Much later, we were in his bed, our bodies entwined and our need for each
other temporarily satiated. His finger traced lazy circles over my forearm.
“So, does the Madonna go back to the Doge’s vaults?” he asked, a certain
wry resignation in his voice.
I laughed and looked at the painting hanging on the wall. “You know, I’m
beginning to like it where it is.”
He grinned and kissed me. “Such a bad girl, Lucia,” he said in my ear,
nibbling at my earlobe.
I looked at him, a slight challenge in my eyes. “Are you going to do
anything about it?”
He smiled with genuine pleasure as he reached for his belt. “For the rest of
my life, little thief.”
OceanofPDF.com
 Read on for a special preview of An Heiress
in Venice!
Blurb:
He is Enzo Peron. By day, he is a Chief Inspector of Police in Venice. By
night, a Dominant at Casanova, Venice’s most exclusive BDSM club.
She is Alice Blackwell, an American heiress who has fled to Venice. She
comes to Club Casanova, hoping to explore the submissive desires she has
held in check for many years.
He dominates her. She submits to him.
But Alice has a past, and it is determined to reclaim her.

An Heiress in Venice (A BDSM Romance Novel)

By Tara Crescent
Text copyright © 2014 Tara Crescent

OceanofPDF.com
Prologue
Alice:
It was three years after Ian’s death before I even thought about another man.
I’d been at some kind of fancy art gallery opening, the kind where they fed
you cheese and wine and tried to get you to buy art when you were slightly
tipsy. A guy had come up to me, we chatted about the meaning of life, and
at the end of the evening, he asked me out to dinner.
Craig Dearborn had been handsome, kind and funny, and I’d had a much
better time than I had expected. But, two days later, I’d received another
letter in the mail, this one containing a photo of Craig and me from our
dinner. I’d been laughing at something he’d said. I had looked happy.
My mysterious letter-writer had only written one sentence, but it was
effective enough.
‘End this, or I’ll end him.’
I had ended things with Craig, declining to offer an explanation. But that
had been the last straw. I’d lived in the shadow of the letters for the last
three years, my emotions oscillating between angry recklessness and
hopeless terror. But I’d be damned if I was dragging another person into the
shit-show that was my life.
Many, many years ago, when I was a child, and my parents were still
talking to me, they’d told me about the city they had honeymooned in.
Venice. They had made it sound so magical. My mother’s eyes had been
soft as she remembered how she fed the pigeons at the Piazza San Marco
and how my parents had sat on the cobblestones and had eaten bread and
cheese and fruit, and found themselves perfectly content with life.
Once upon a time, my life too had been magical, but those days were past.
Yet, I still ran away to Venice.
***
It had been a week since my arrival in Venice, and on cue, a letter was
slipped under the door of my hotel room. This time, there was no picture.
‘How far do you think you can run, Alice?’
And though I’d moved halfway across the world, hoping to be left alone,
I’d been wrong. Whoever this person was who wanted me dead, I couldn’t
outrun him or her. I couldn’t hide. All I could do was wait.

Intrigued? Click here to continue reading An Heiress in Venice!

OceanofPDF.com
 End Notes
Dear Reader,
I hope you enjoyed reading ‘A Thief in Venice’ as much as I enjoyed writing
it. I also hope you’ll consider leaving a review. Reviews are one of the most
important ways readers like you discover new books. Please take a moment
to tell me what you thought – I’d really, really appreciate it.
If you’d like to know when the next book in the series will be out, please
visit my website to sign up for my new release email alerts. My mailing list
receives a free story approximately every two months. Right now, the
mailing list is reading each episode of Storm for free. If that sounds
interesting, please do sign up.
Cheers, and happy reading!
Tara Crescent
http://www.taracrescent.com

OceanofPDF.com
 Books by Tara Crescent
BDSM Romance:
Teaching Maya
The House of Pain
The Professor’s Pet
A Thief in Venice (Nights in Venice Book 1)
An Heiress in Venice (Nights in Venice Book 2)
A Starlet in Venice (Nights in Venice Book 3) – Coming Soon!

BDSM & Medical Play:

Triage (Doctor Dom Volume 1)
Observation (Doctor Dom Volume 2)
Diagnosis (Doctor Dom Volume 3)
Relapse (Doctor Dom Volume 4)
Recovery (Doctor Dom Volume 5)
Doctor Dom Series Sequence One (Triage | Observation | Diagnosis)

BDSM Fantasy:
Magic Everywhere (Chronicles of Raan Volume 1)
Raina’s Wedding (Chronicles of Raan Volume 2)
Leila’s Training (Chronicles of Raan Volume 3)
Chronicles of Raan

Erotic Shorts:
Adventures of Suzie and the Alien (Volumes 1-5)
The Alien, the Doctor and the Virgin (Adventures of Suzie and the Alien
Volume 1)
The Alien Trains the Virgin (Adventures of Suzie and the Alien Volume 2)
The Alien, the Virgin and the Warrior Queen (Adventures of Suzie and the
Alien Book 3)
Tentacle Monsters and the Virgin (Adventures of Suzie and the Alien
Volume 4)
The Virgin Returns Home (Adventures of Suzie and the Alien Volume 5)

OceanofPDF.com
Table of Contents

Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
Read on for a special preview of An Heiress in Venice!
Prologue
End Notes
Books by Tara Crescent

OceanofPDF.com