Venetian Moon: The Seduction
By: Bunniko
Disclaimer: I own no rights to Sailor Moon by Naoko-san or "Dangerous Beauty" of Regency Enterprises.
Summary: 16th century Venice. The Lunar Court is reincarnated in a Paradise of sorts.
Note: Due to the setting, the English names from the translated manga suit my needs best. (With the exceptions of the Generals.) This is Part 4. I recommend you read the Introduction, Part1: The Encounter, Part 2: The Connections and Part 3: The Beginning first. Also, I have been told that the font on my previous fics were too small so I have replaced them with larger fonts and made some revisions to Chapter 3, for those of you who have been following along.
AN: Gomen nasai for the delay. I know I promised this out sooner, but well, it was more difficult to write than I expected. But things that come easy are rarely appreciated, ne? Enjoy!
"Venice, 1583 - the richest, most decadent city in Europe. Its women were treated as property – few even knew how to read.
But there were some who enjoyed a different fate . . ." ~ opening of "Dangerous Beauty"
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Mercury Rising
Vincenzo and Amy whirled about on the dance floor, lost in the beautiful music. It was as if the gaming house and its patrons had disappeared. Instead they were dancing in a huge ballroom of white rather than the garishly decorated . . .
"den of iniquity!" Both dancers were jolted out of their illusion as a voice boomed above them. "What service of God's do you perform here? How is God's will obeyed in this place? What honor do you give unto the Lord? The Lord will surely reward the righteous who obey His will and crush those who defy it!"
Amy's face paled. Vincenzo quickly looked around, noting that the hour had grown late and most of the usual faces were no longer in attendance. Indeed, the place seemed to be filled with the dull black robes of zealots. Their apparent leader stood above them, pontificating on the danger they were exposing their immortal souls to. He drew Amy close to him, drawing her away from the doom and gloom bleaters. She clung tightly to his arm, uncertain what had unnerved him, but sensing great danger emanating from those men. Only once they had made good their escape from the building did she begin to relax.
Aboard the gondola, she extricated the slip of paper from her skirt's hidden pocket and handed it to Vincenzo. He gave directions to the gondolier, then settled next to her on the seat, slipping an arm about her. She curled into him, resting her head back against his shoulder, gazing up at him. He stared down at her, mesmerized by her beauty. Her blue-tinted hair begged for his touch. Her wide blue eyes gazed into his so trustingly it made his heart skip a beat. Her soft lips invited a kiss. His pulse raced as he imagined her in his bed.
Amy gazed up at Vincenzo, her mind racing. She didn't know how it was possible for her to feel so secure, so safe in his arms. Yet a part of her was still nervous about what was coming. Technically, she knew what to expect, but she wasn't completely clear on all the details. Would it hurt? Would she freeze up? Would he find her beau . . . All her thoughts melted away as his lips gently touched her own. His lips moved slowly over hers, gentle, teasing. She melted against him as passion began a slow burn through her. She pressed herself more tightly against him. In response, he slipped his tongue into her mouth, sweeping her away in a torrent of desire. Pleasure washed over her as his mouth wandered down her throat and his hands roamed her body. Her hands tangled in his long golden hair, and then . . . the boat bumped against the stone canal and grated to a stop.
Hastily, Amy fixed her slightly askew bodice and Vincenzo reluctantly pulled away from her tempting body. He rose a bit stiffly, but still managed to help her from the boat. They made their way to the front door of a large house. At their approach, a sleepy old man swung the portal open. He held out a light to study their faces, then turned to admit them. Once they entered, he closed and locked the door firmly behind them. That done, he gave a soft grunt and headed down the hallway. In the retreating candle's glow, they saw a set of stairs. The man disappeared into a room at the end of a hall, taking all the light with him. Moments later, they heard a whistling snore emanating from the room. Amy and Vincenzo shared a ruefully amused grin. Apparently their long evening had interfered with the old man's desperately needed beauty sleep. When their eyes adjusted to their dim surroundings, they climbed the stairs and found their room.
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Amy stood patiently by the bed as Vincenzo carefully unlaced her gown. He sat on the edge of the bed, long legs to one side of her full gown. One candle burned on a nearby stand. He unlaced her slowly, like a present, drinking in the sight of her. Both were breathing unsteadily, both sensing that something more than lust was taking root here.
Her bodice fell open, revealing a sheer chemise, which did very little to conceal her breasts from his gaze. Of course, such was the point of such garments. Amy watched his face intently, her only nervousness being that he might find her lacking. His hands moved higher, slipping the chemise's straps off her shoulders. Both the sheer garment and the full dress slid down her body to pool at her feet. His eyes followed the fabric's movement as if hypnotized. Then, moving swiftly, he locked his arms about her, pulling her forward a bit as he began to taste her soft skin. Her head fell back as he nibbled along her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut. Her right hand clutched at his shirt for support as his mouth found her breast. Her left hand tangled in his hair, holding him there. His hands began to roam her body freely, eliciting gasps from her as sensations raced over her body. She never noticed just when he moved her to the bed, or when his clothes joined hers on the floor. Only when his bare body slid over hers as he moved her legs apart did she open her eyes.
He hovered above her, his hips directly over hers, his chest in full contact with hers. Serious green eyes watched her slightly glazed blue ones for any sign of nervousness. He whispered her name, watching as her eyes focused on his. "I love you, Amy." he whispered. He gave her no chance to speak, claiming her mouth firmly as he slowly, gently began to slide into her.
She tensed beneath him as he entered her, biting her lip to keep from crying out in pain. He froze above her, showering her face and neck with kisses, moving his hands over her soothingly, murmuring indistinct sounds against her skin. Slowly she grew accustomed to the feel of him and she moved experimentally underneath him. He groaned at the effect her simple movement had on him, asking, "Better?" It wasn't the most sensitive thing he could think of to say, but at the moment, it was all he could manage, lest he lose control and hurt her. She nodded against his chest, the sensation of her silky hair against his skin adding new dimensions to his desire. He gazed down into her eyes, seeing her trust in him as well as her desire for him. "I love you, Amy." he murmured against her temple as he began to move again.
Amy's heart swelled at his kindness and his words. She instinctively knew that he meant what he said and though his body was doing things to her that denied her the ability to breathe steadily, let alone think clearly or voice her own feelings, she expressed her emotions to him in an unspoken declaration of love as they spiraled together towards a paradise only they could ever know.
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It was much later, as dawn began to streak the sky and they lay entwined in each other's embrace that they dared gaze into the future. Vincenzo broke the silence first, his voice firm though he spoke softly in her ear. "I can't bear the thought of anyone else touching you, kissing you, holding you in their arms." He tightened his hold on her unconsciously. "I won't share you, Amy." his voice dropped to a demanding whisper.
Amy shivered against him, stunned by the possessiveness in his tone and touch. Her eyes closed as if in pain for a moment. When she opened them, a single tear escaped down her cheek, but her voice was steady, controlled. "We don't have much choice, Vin." She clung to her logic like a lifeline, refusing to entertain hopes that could only be dashed to pieces. "You must marry for wealth and duty. I must do this to earn money just to survive. There is no way for us to stay together."
Vincenzo tried to close his ears to her logic, but the word marry caught his attention. Inspiration struck and a smile curved his lips, even as she continued. When she fell silent, he kissed her ear, gaining her full attention. "Nay, love," he whispered silkily, enjoying the feel of her soft hair and softer skin against his lips, "there is another choice." He fell silent, waiting for her reaction.
Curiosity won out. Amy rolled over within the gentle cage of his arms, and pushed herself up on her hands to gaze into his eyes. "How?" she demanded.
How what? Vincenzo thought, totally distracted by the delicious feel of her body slipping over his. Her serious blue eyes bored into his suddenly stunned green ones and he struggled to rein in his wandering thoughts. He frowned slightly as he hunted up his scattered thoughts. Amy watched him closely, her curiosity making her impatient, his roving hands making her distracted. "Well . . ." he dragged the word out, stilling his hands at her waist, staring into her eyes. She wriggled impatiently, a little concerned by the touch of uncertainty in his eyes. His eyes darkened at her unintentionally arousing movements and all his pretty words fled. "You could be my mistress. You would be well taken care of and no one would take you away from me."
Amy went completely still over him and stared into his eyes in shock. Why hadn't she thought of that? She barely noted the unromantic intonation of his words. She could see desire in his eyes, mingled with love. It was the love that gave her serious pause. Why did he love her? More importantly, why did she feel an answering love for him? She'd always discounted the idea of love at first sight, but that was the only logical explanation. Her eyes reflected her love as she nodded her head. Though the law would never recognize them as legally wed, their hearts were bonded. Amy couldn't give her body to another when she loved Vincenzo!
At her nod, Vincenzo's heart tightened. A smile lit his face and he felt a strange urge to proclaim to the world that she was his. Instead, he rolled her over and they made love as the sun rose, secure in their love for each other.
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Mars Fire
Raye and Jerome were the first to leave the gaming house, mainly because Jerome seemed intent on infuriating her and neither wanted to risk creating a potentially humiliating spectacle in public.
Jerome wasn't exactly sure what he had done to make her so mad, but he could read the fury snapping in her eyes. Not wanting to risk her losing her fiery temper in the gaming house, he'd grabbed her wrist and began pulling her towards the exit. Knowing that they were being carefully watched, he gave her his best lascivious grin and said, perhaps a bit over loudly, "Come along, we can talk more in private." Then he'd caught her arm and pulled her out into the night air and on into the gondola.
Raye couldn't believe Jerome's behavior. His words had her face flaming. Then he dragged her from the house like some kind of . . . grrr! Her eyes darkened even more. She'd thought he was a nice guy, but obviously she'd misjudged him. A touch of fear fueled her temper because regardless of whether or not he was ready for sex, she was most definitely not! To top it all off, she knew that it was her nervousness that had caused this. She had been so determined to hide her nervousness that she had snapped at him. She didn't even remember what she'd said, but it had caught him by surprise. She supposed she could have apologized, but she just couldn't. He'd stared at her for a moment, then made it perfectly obvious to the entire gaming house that he was taking her to bed. Her cheeks had flamed and only pride had kept her from digging her feet into the carpet and demanding to be released. Only her knowledge that she was being carefully watched by many powerful and wealthy men kept her from loosing her sharp tongue. Even once they were in the gondola she held her tongue, holding herself stiffly throughout the far too short ride.
Jerome didn't try to touch her on the ride, but he couldn't keep his eyes of her. Gods, but she was beautiful angry! Her eyes sparkled with anger, her cheeks were flushed and her stiff pose only accentuated her gorgeous body. When the boat ground to a halt, Jerome leapt out, then turned to assist her. The moment his hand brushed hers, a jolt when through them both. Wide violet eyes stared bemusedly into his shocked blue ones. Then she shook it off and he followed suit, embarking on a very polite and courteous trip to their bedroom.
The second the door closed however, Raye whirled on him. Anger radiated off her body like heat from a blazing fire. Her voice, lowered so they wouldn't be heard throughout the house, hissed at him. "You, sir, are a cretin! Of all the boorish, idiotic, insufferable . . ."
Jerome cut her off, with both his words and his sudden invasion of her space. "Now just a moment!" he demanded as he stalked up to her. "What did I do?" His face was mere centimeters from hers.
She stood her ground, unnerved by his closeness and distracted by his scent and his eyes. She had noted the way they had devoured her all night long and now she was confronted with both his anger and his desire. Her thoughts scattered, what had he done indeed? She swallowed, then as the memory of her embarrassment returned, she shot back. "How dare you drag me out of there with everyone staring at us, knowing . . ." she trailed off suddenly. Her face flushed with the realization that of course everyone knew, they were all there for the same purpose.
"About what?" Jerome demanded, watching her blush and knowing full well what she meant. He just loved watching her squirm. "About this?" he gritted out before bringing his her tightly against him, crushing her to him in a bone-melting kiss.
Raye wanted to resist. She valiantly tried, but how was she supposed to resist the fire racing over her that had nothing to do with anger? She gasped against him, whether in protest or shock neither knew or really cared. His tongue swept into her mouth and she was lost. Their tongues danced as they quickly pulled at each other's clothes, leaving a trail of discarded garments from the door to the bed. Desire raced through them, but a stronger connection bound them as he claimed her maidenhead. They clung to each other as passion built and exploded, crying out each other's name in ecstasy.
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Jerome held her while she slept, unable to let go of her. Her knew her matron would be most displeased to have to shoo him out of here, but he didn't want to leave. In fact, he realized as he gazed at her sleeping face, he didn't want to leave ever! Okay, so she had a temper, but man, she was absolutely stunning when she was mad! Her temper would definitely make things interesting. No other woman fired his blood the way this girl did. Even now, hours later, his body desired her. But more unnerving was the sudden wave of tenderness he felt as he watched her sleep. He'd never stayed to watch his other women sleep. He'd never felt protective or possessive. His face paled as he faced the truth. He loved her. Then the thought of other men touching her made a fierce jealousy grow within him. Unconsciously he drew her tighter in his embrace.
Raye stirred, sensing his distress as she was pressed almost into his body. "What's wrong?" she asked sleepily, struggling to inflate her lungs against his crushing hold. He relaxed a little and she smiled softly, reaching up to stroke one of his short blond curls. She forgot for the moment that there was a world outside his arms, outside this bed, this room. She forgot who and what they both were. For the moment, they were nothing more than lovers and nothing less.
He jerked away, releasing her so suddenly that she tumbled back on the bed. She felt oddly bereft as she realized he was now standing all the way across the room from her, near the window. "What's wrong?" he mocked her. "Tonight you will be here in this same bed, but with some other man!" he shouted.
She stared at him, fully awake now. "That is what courtesans do." she snapped, angered by his sudden shattering of her illusions. Before he'd spoken, she'd felt safe, content; indeed, she had felt as if everything was right. Her heart ached and she realized she loved him. She didn't know how or why, but something had bound her heart to his. The anger and contempt in his voice sliced into her like a thousand swords. As always, she drew upon her anger to hide her pain. "If I wasn't a courtesan, we wouldn't be here now."
Jerome was not in the mood. He shouted right back at her. "I won't stand for it! I won't let anyone else have you!"
Her purple eyes grew wide, shocked at his possessiveness. Instead of feeling flattered, she was annoyed. She wasn't his property after all! "And just how do you propose to do that?" she demanded.
He fell silent, turning his back to her and gazing out the window. She suddenly felt cold. What if she'd hurt him? She didn't want to hurt him; she loved him, she . . . His voice broke into her racing thoughts. His voice was calm, much softer, though he didn't face her. "Become my mistress." he invited.
"Wha-at?" Raye managed to squeak.
He turned to face her. "I can't share you, Raye." His voice broke, revealing the depths of emotion to her, even though he just couldn't say it out loud. A smile danced in her eyes, but she kept her face serious. She tilted her head slightly, eyes narrowing a bit, as if weighing the pros and cons. Every nerve in his body was immobilized as he awaited her reaction. Time seemed to drag on endlessly.
Every cell in her body seemed to be screaming at her. Each cry was one of encouragement, excitement, love and need. She couldn't say no. She dragged the moment out for as long as she could, waiting to see if her sixth sense gave her any indication that this was a bad idea. No uneasy feeling came. Slowly she nodded. "Yes."
The simple word hung in the air between them for only an instant before Jerome's face broke into a dazzling smile. An answering one grew across Raye's face as Jerome seemed to fly to her side. His kiss quickly kindled a fire in their blood and they made love again, this time their unspoken but obvious love adding extra spice to their passion.
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Jupiter Dream
Lita wasn't a very good card player, Netheniel thought. That or he was strangely adept at reading her facial expressions. They had just finished playing a hand when Netheniel noticed the dark robes of a pack of zealots sniffing around like starving wolves. Catching Lita's hand, he murmured, "Time to go, my sweet." Her green eyes flew open wide and he detected a hint of nervousness in them. Giving her his most reassuring smile, her tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. She didn't resist him, but he was dismayed when the fear didn't disappear. He resolved to ease her trepidation as soon as they had escaped the prowling zealots.
He pulled her alongside him and they made their way quickly to the exit. Suddenly, a plain man in a severe black habit scented her distress and likened her to easy prey. Slipping up beside them, he caught Lita's arm and began to speak. Netheniel didn't think, he just reacted. Rage built in him that someone had dared try to draw her away from him. Turning a fierce gaze on the man, he caught the wrist of the arm holding Lita's arm and squeezed. The zealot released her quickly in pain and Netheniel pushed him hard, flinging him away from them and careening into a table covered in food and wine. Lita could only stare as the man slumped to the floor, his habit stained with food and wine. Then Netheniel tugged her gently away, both of them missing the hatred in the zealot's glare as he watched their retreating backs.
Once free of the gaming house, Lita gasped for air, trying to gather the courage for the next step. Netheniel hailed the first gondola and dragged Lita to it. He didn't comprehend right away why she had suddenly become a statue, until she shrank away from him as he prepared to hand her into the gondola. Only his grip on her arm kept her from turning and fleeing. Lifting her gently into his arms, he carried her towards the waiting conveyance. Lita's face paled and she tried to struggle free without being too obvious, but the second he stepped forward into the gondola, she went rigid, arms tight around his neck. Lita clung desperately to him; her body plastered to his, which was proving rather distracting. However, the moment they were securely in the confines of the little boat, he gently set her down on the bench. Kneeling in front of her, he tried to get her attention. "Lita, where to?"
Lita's eyes were wide and vacant, so he tried again, this time snapping his fingers in front of her face. She blinked slowly, staring at him in confusion, and fear. "Where to, Lita?" he prompted. As if moving in a fog, Lita retrieved the scrap of paper from her hidden skirt pocket, revealing a very tempting display of flesh in the process. Netheniel mentally groaned, fighting an urge to kiss her senseless right then and there. He took the paper and turned to give directions to the gondolier. As his comforting presence left her, Lita moaned in distress.
Thrusting the paper at the bemused gondolier, Netheniel spun back to her. Sitting beside her, he drew her into his arms, cradling her to him. She curled into him like a frightened child, clinging tightly to the front of his vestments. He held her close, murmuring nonsense syllables to her for the duration of the ride.
The ride seemed to last an eternity to Lita. Her world diminished to a rocking, flimsy wooden craft and Netheniel's warm, strong arms. She curled tightly against him, a part of her embarrassed to be reduced to this and another part of her glad he was caring for her. Another man might have left in disgust or treated her roughly, but Netheniel was protecting her, making her feel safe. A small part of her, struggling to be heard over the part that was frightened, was reveling in his touch, his warmth and his scent. Her heartbeat was accelerated, but not completely due to the terrifying boat ride. The man who held her definitely made her heart race.
Focusing intently on the soothing sounds he was making, Lita managed to quell her trembling and loosen her death grip on his expensive clothing. He did not release her however. Finally, the trip ended and she felt him drawing her up out of the boat and onto firm ground. She sagged a little against him, and he slid a finger under her chin, bringing her lips to his in a kiss that made her world tilt crazily.
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Lita sat on the edge of a large bed, sipping a goblet of wine. The liquid seemed to be calming her nerves. Netheniel stood at the narrow table, pouring himself a goblet as well, lecturing himself. Sternly he reminded himself that she was nervous and had just dealt with her greatest fear. He had to move slowly, make everything just right for her. He frowned just then. Why was he doing this? Never before had he given a woman's feelings or thoughts much concern. But this woman, with those tragic eyes and gentle smile, she touched his heart. He turned then, joining her on the bed, relieved to note that the vibrant sparkle was returning to her eyes and that her color was approaching normal. Her personality had begun to shine through her features again, increasing her beauty.
He blinked when her lips parted, surprised. "I'm sorry." She spoke softly, looking intently into the liquid swirling aimlessly in her goblet.
He smiled gently, his hand catching her empty one and drawing it to him. He ran his thumb over her skin softly, making her shiver slightly. "It's alright." he soothed. Her eyes flew to his, surprised. He could tell she had expected him to be angry with her or at the least, to mock her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently.
"N-no." Lita shook her head. Instead, she set her goblet aside. Netheniel made no move to prevent her from removing his as well. Moving closer to her, he ran his hand along the curve of her jaw, drawing her in for a kiss. She melted against him, opening her mouth to his explorations. Feeling her matching his passion, he moved his hands to her laces. Her breathing grew unsteady as he trailed kisses along her jaw and throat and his hands found the sides of her breasts.
Deftly he undid her laces, revealing her to his gaze in mere moments. Slipping her garments to the floor, he leaned her back against the pillows as he explored her body with his hands and mouth. Only when he had her moving beneath him, wanting more, did he slip out of his own garments. Quickly, smoothly, he entered her, rending her barrier. She arched against him in pain and he forced himself to remain still until she grew accustomed to him. Then together, they explored the concept of pleasure.
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Many hours later, curled in his arms, Lita told him what she remembered of her parents' deaths. "I barely remember them." she confessed, a guilt eating at her. He ran his hands soothingly over her back, letting her speak, feeling both honored and humbled that she was trusting him with this. "I don't even know what caused the accident. I was asleep in my mother's arms. A sudden jerk tossed me away from her. All I remember is my mother, sinking, her heavy gown pulling her under. My father tried to save her, but he sank with her. The gondolier pulled me from the wreckage and took me to Mother Petrucho's home. For many years I had nightmares." This last bit she confessed in a small voice, as if ashamed to admit that she had ever had unpleasant dreams.
Netheniel ached for the little girl. His jaded heart and soul seemed to be actually responding to her. He was stunned by the waves of protectiveness washing over him. But all he said was "How did you cope
Lita smiled softly against his arm, lost in the memories. "Each of the girls took turns sleeping beside me. Amy would read to me from her science or history books until I fell back asleep. Raye would chant nonsense syllables and stroke my forehead. Mina would tell romantic stories of princes. Bunny," Lita's smile grew. "Bunny would tell me about her dreams. She had these vivid dreams of a moon kingdom. In her dreams, all five of us were princesses. Each one of them used something special to remind me that they cared about me."
Netheniel toyed with a lock of her hair, trying to ignore a wave of jealousy. "You seem to have good friends." he murmured.
Lita nodded. "We love each other very much. We're all we have. In a way, we are all sisters. We watch out for each other, especially Bunny. It's weird. Bunny is the youngest of us, both in age and the way she sometimes acts, but whenever one of us is hurt or in trouble, there she is, giving her all to make it better."
Netheniel thought about all that Lita had said. Judging by her reaction tonight, she was going to have serious trouble as a courtesan. He focused on that to ignore the pain growing inside him at the lack of love and affection in his life. Oh, he had Dare and the guys, but they had all been raised to be diffident, distant. The love Lita had for her friends mocked their friendship. He forced his thoughts down the no less pleasant road of Lita's future as a courtesan. Most of her clients would neither understand nor tolerate her phobia. "How do you plan to deal with the gondolas, Lita?"
"I- I don't know." came the reluctant answer.
He wanted to protect her. Hell, he just plain wanted her! "I could solve that problem." She turned her head to gaze up at him. "You do something to me, Lita." he admitted, surprising them both. "You make me want to protect you, to keep you near. Would you do me the honor of being my mistress?"
The proposal caught Lita off-guard, causing her to sit bolt upright in shock and sending the sheets flying. Okay, so it wasn't a proposal of marriage, but for a poor girl with no dowry, what more could she want? To be the mistress of the man who had captured his heart with is gentleness was a dream come true. Her face flushed.
Netheniel drank in her beauty while she stared at him, thinking. Somehow she felt connected to him, as if she couldn't bear to be parted from him. "Yes, I will." she murmured softly. His eyes flew to hers, almost doubting his ears. He could see her emotions and thoughts in her eyes, on her face. She was his! A strange sensation of completeness ran through him as he pulled her to him and they made love, slowly and passionately.
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Venus Passion
Matteo knew the instant he looked at Mina that he was sunk. The stares and appreciative murmurs accentuating her arrival had tinged his world red with a jealous rage. But his anger wasn't directed at Mina and when she smiled sweetly at, his anger fled as quickly as it had flared. In its wake, something else flared, something more than mere lust. Something much deeper, all pervasive. He blinked suddenly, realizing that he was looking down at her, mere centimeters from her. He didn't know how he'd gotten there, but he knew instinctively that leaving her side for even a moment would be very difficult. He stared down into her wide eyes, relishing the look of pleased surprise he found there.
Mother Petrucho smiled softly as she watched the couple. A sharp tug on her heartstring snapped her out of her reverie though. She shook her head hard to clear a sudden image of Mina and Matteo standing in formal attire, staring into each other's eyes with a look of devotion and determination. The pang reminded her that no matter what, marriage to Matteo was not Mina's path. As she forced the illusion to clear her mind's eye, she noticed that Serena was standing alone, looking about her with barely concealed nervousness. Her sharp eyes noticed the predatory looks on the men's faces and the hostile looks on the women's. At least Mina had Matteo; where was Serena's companion? Just then, she noticed Matteo rising from a bow to Mina and beginning to lead her away. She caught his sleeve.
Matteo stopped, stunned that someone had dared lay a hand on him. Turning, he found that Mina's guardian was staring up at him. He raised an eyebrow in a mute question, mild bemusement etched in his face. His bemusement didn't fade when she spoke.
"What of Serena?"
Serena? he wondered. Oh yes! The one they call Bunny. "Well, Dare . . . oh!" Matteo glanced about, just noticing that Darien had not followed him. In fact, Darien was standing stock-still where Matteo had left him, staring at Bunny. Sending a quick glance to the young girl, he ascertained that she had not seen Darien yet. He smiled, returning his attention to Signora Petrucho. "Her escort is over there." he murmured, flicking his silver gaze in his friend's direction. Mother Petrucho's eyes widened as she followed his gaze. Darien, seeming to feel their attention, finally began to move towards them, so Matteo took the opportunity to sweep Mina inside.
Perhaps ten minutes at the most had passed before they noticed an angry-looking Raye and a rather confused and irritated Jerome beating a hasty path out of the gaming house. Matteo merely raised an eyebrow, but Mina placed her hand over her mouth and watched the pair worriedly.
Matteo drew her a bit closer, enjoying the feel of her warmth against his side. "Mina, are you alright?"
"I feel sorry for your friend." she murmured softly. Matteo laughed and she spun to face him. "Seriously!" she exclaimed. "Raye has quite a temper!"
Matteo could see she was hurt by his laughter and sought to soothe her. "So does Jerome, my pet. But I am sure they will be fine." Mina blushed prettily at his endearment, allowing him to pull her close again. Her friend faded completely from her mind as she felt his gaze never waver from her face. She wondered if she had something on her face, and shifted within in his arms uncertainly.
Matteo ignored her discomfiture, enjoying the way her blush deepened, painting her features. He began to devise ways to cause the color to stain her features again. Finally, he had mercy on her and they began to explore the gaming house. Mina found the place thoroughly fascinating, and her expressions ran the gamut from amused to shocked as Matteo showed her all of the offered distractions. Matteo watched her closely, now that her attention was held by the recreations around them. He found himself experiencing the gaming house through her eyes, which he found surprisingly refreshing. He knew he was beginning to appear a bit besotted with her, but he ignored it. From the looks she kept sneaking at him, and the high color in her cheeks, it was apparent he wasn't the only one.
Mina found the gaming house and its inhabitants very interesting, but it paled in comparison to her interest in the man beside her. She couldn't stop looking at him. She found herself admiring his grace and strength. The way he moved entranced her. His mane of unusual white hair begged to be touched and his silver gaze made her stomach do flips. She turned away, ostensibly watching a juggler, nibbling her lower lip as she wondered at the emotions careening through her.
Matteo watched her nibble her lip with interest until he heard a slight murmur. Looking up, he frowned at the sight near the entrance. Mina felt his body tense and she turned to look up at him. His hand resting on her arm suddenly became very possessive, causing her to gasp in surprise. His grip wasn't cruel, but she was firmly in his control. She swallowed hard as she took in his visage. A frown, much darker than the ones she had seen before, turned his mouth down harshly. His silver eyes were slits as he stared hostilely at someone. Following his gaze curiously, she had to rise up on her tiptoes precariously. After all that effort, all she saw was a group of men dressed in robes that looked like they were made of sacks. She didn't know who they were, but her curiosity suddenly dissipated when Matteo bent near her ear. His lips actually brushed her ear, causing her to shiver as he whispered silkily, "Shall we leave this place, my pet?"
Mina's mind suddenly stopped, shifted gears and began to race again. No longer did the strangers have her attention; her whole being was focused on the gorgeous man dancing attention on her. She could only nod; barely noting that all trace of his hostility had fled. Tucking her hand gently into the crook of his arm, they swept from the building like a lord and his lady. Mina was so stunned by his quicksilver mood change that she didn't take note of the imperious looks Matteo used to scatter everyone out of his way, even the determined zealots.
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Candles burned low in the bedroom appointed for them. Like the other four bedrooms, the chamber boasted a few candles, a long but narrow table situated against the wall next to the door, a small circular table near the window, two chairs and the hugest, softest bed Mina had ever seen. Considering that all she ever slept on was a pallet on the floor of a large room shared with four other girls, that really wasn't saying much. Still, it was a very large bed and it dominated the room.
The wine sat on the table untouched. A jacket was draped carelessly over the back of one of the chairs. Jewelry glinted dully in the fading candlelight beside the wine carafe. An expensive gown and more expensive men's clothing lay on the floor beside the bed. Tall, soft leather boots stood next to golden platform shoes.
Mina sat in the other chair, clad only in her shift. A bare-chested Matteo stood behind her, his long fingers deftly undoing the woven knot that held back half of her long blond hair. Soon, the length of hair slid between his fingers to join the rest as it cascaded in a blond waterfall, down the chair and pooling a bit at his feet. He gave in to the urge to play with her hair, weaving his long fingers through it. Sensually, he massaged her scalp, occasionally scraping it lightly with his fingernails, all the while sending delicious sensations zinging through her body. He head fell back against his chest, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. He bent over her, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. She reached up, tangling her fingers in his hair as he deepened the kiss. His hands left her hair, skimming over her shoulders and into her shift. Mina arched back, tipping the chair slightly as his hands roamed over her bare skin. She moaned softly, the sound firing Matteo's blood even more. He pulled her from the chair, turning her so that her body was pressed tightly against him, never breaking the kiss. Mina gasped again, thrilled at the intimate pressure of his body against hers and she dug her hands deeper into his hair, tugging slightly.
Matteo dragged his head back, both of them gasping for breath. His hands roamed her body still and he could read the passion darkening her eyes. He could read something else there, but he refused to interpret it, he needed her now! Dipping his head down for another mind-reeling kiss, he sound found himself of the brink of desire-induced madness. Lifting her up, he ignored her shocked gasp and laid her back on the bed, stretching himself over her. His lips traveled down her neck and down to her ample bosom before fabric stopped him. Growling his frustration, he brought both hands up to the plunging neckline of the sheer shift . . . and ripped.
Mina's mind cleared a bit as the fabric gave way with a soft protest. Any protest she might have added to the fabric's complaint was prevented as she watched him looking at her. He gazed at her with such a mix of reverence and desire that she found herself breathless. Quickly Matteo shed his breeches, letting them fall atop her ruined shift without so much as a cursory glance. In the next instant he was above her again, their bared bodies finally melding.
Their passion flared even higher as Matteo began to teach Mina the full meaning of pleasure. She demonstrated her aptitude as a student by teaching him a few things too, though some of the pleasure he felt resulted not from the mere physical connection of their bodies, but the connection of their hearts. Even though their love was as yet undeclared, it still added dimensions to their lovemaking that neither the jaded aristocrat nor the romantic courtesan had ever thought possible.
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Dawn rose as the lovers lay sated and content, tangled together in the rosy light. Matteo toyed with a lock of her hair. "You are mine now, my pet. I'll not be able to let you go." he declared.
Mina merely smiled, tracing his face with one hand, her eyes locked on his. "Nor I you, love." Understanding flashed between them, as if words were no longer needed.
"Good." Matteo growled playfully. "I'm pleased you understand." He flipped her quickly on her back, taking the advantage to tickle her. Her laughter was like music, but it faded quickly as her squirming beneath him had a definate effect on them both. Mina looked up into his eyes as they both stilled to find amusment, passion and love in his eyes. She suspected hers reflected the same. Her lips twitched as she teasingly raised an eyebrow and inquired, "Again?" His only response was a soft growl and a swift movement that placed them both exactly where they wanted to be.
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Moon Magic
Bunny was confused. That's all there was to it. When she'd first spotted Darien, her heart had lodged in her throat. There was no denying that he was sinfully handsome. But the look in his eyes that had haunted her from their previous encounter was still there. The aloofness, the icy mockery swirling in his eyes frightened yet entranced her. There was a darkness to him, a hidden sorrow that swirled about him. And fate had abandoned her to him.
Here she stood, she thought almost angrily, the most perfect illusion of herself that she could imagine and he mocked her! She nibbled at her lower lip again as he stared into her eyes. What is he thinking? She wondered, even as she pondered the way the mere brush of his lips against the hand he had raised to his mouth sent zings through her. He stood there for a moment, and for a heartbeat, blue met blue in a collision of emotions. Then, he broke the spell by taking her arm and entering the gaming house.
Darien had delayed his encounter with her unintentionally. He had had every intention of following right behind Matteo, but then he had caught sight of Serena. She stood there; looking like an angel descended to earth. Her appearance was pure seduction, but her eyes were wide and betrayed her nervousness. Her teeth were delicately worrying her lower lip. Society's wolves were circling about her.
It was her plight that motivated him. Shaking off his reaction, he headed her way. Remembering her spunk on the day they had met, he arranged his features into the semblance of mockery. It was calculated to pique her defiant nature, thereby giving her the chance to save herself. The moment she saw him, he knew it had worked. Her eyes widened, then narrowed. Her posture became almost rigid, her chin high. She radiated confidence. Her eyes sparkled and she sheathed her teeth. No longer did she resemble a frightened lamb, now she was a princess.
He felt her reaction to his lips upon her hand as he lifted it to his mouth. He swallowed a smile of satisfaction. Yes, he would need to go slow with her, but he knew that she would enjoy his touch, unlike his wife. Suddenly he found himself wondering when he had begun to care about such things. True, he had always seen his women pleasured, but it had never been his main goal. But he wanted Serena to enjoy his touch. Bothered by this train of thought, he quickly pulled her arm through his. He then drew her inside, finding them a place to sit.
They sat on a velvet-covered bench near a table laden with food and drink. Darien leaned forward to ask his companion if she was hungry, but instead found his face in her hair. Pulling back, startled, he realized that she had turned her head to gaze at someone or something. For just a moment, he took advantage of her distraction to admire her, especially since her body was still turned in his direction, though her head was turned to gaze over her shoulder. But, when she didn't turn back to him, he grew curious about what held her attention.
Darien leaned forward again, this time letting his body glide over hers, to gaze in the same direction. The sight that met his eyes amused him, keeping him from noticing that Serena had gone still against him. Making their way to the door, to the amusement of many, were an annoyed Jerome and an angry Raye. He laughed softly then froze as he heard a soft gasp. He realized that he was rather intimately pressed against her upper body. Drawing back slightly, he could see her face was now turned to his, her gaze riveted to his. In her azure eyes, he read shock, pleasure and nervousness. Her lips were slightly parted, tempting him unbearably. Only the stern reminder of her innocence held him back. He retreated further, calmly inquiring if she was thirsty. He barely waited to see if she nodded before he was up.
Bunny sat extremely still, analyzing her reaction. The annoying, mocking Darien Mancuso was doing strange things to her senses. Not to mention her poor heart! For a moment she had been certain he was going to kiss her and it was as if she had stopped breathing. No, she was sure she had stopped breathing! Now her heart was pounding as if she had been running for hours. She breathed in slowly, exhaling softly, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. Then she caught sight of him and her heart began to do flips! "Oh Bunny, you can't be falling for him!" she moaned under her breath. Then aware that someone might see her talking to herself, she continued her scolding in her head. You don't know anything about him, except that he's rude, mocking and . . . and gorgeous. She sighed. She'd always listened to her heart rather than her head, and this time would be no different. But, she vowed, she would never tell him! No, she could fall in love with him, but she would never let the arrogant jerk know!
Darien returned just then, handing her the finest goblet she had ever seen as if it were merely a wooden cup. She smiled her thanks and took a sip, eyes widening at the delicate wine. Darien watched her, torn between amusement and anger. He thought she was like a kitten, so impressed by something so simple as wine. But he knew for certain that she was the daughter of that Spaniard. It infuriated him that she had lived a life of deprivation because of his ego! He would welcome a daughter or a son; it didn't matter to him. He didn't know why, but somewhere inside him he had begun to long to be a father. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, wondering why she affected him so.
"Serena . . ." he began, not exactly sure what he was going to say.
"Bunny." she murmured.
"Hmmm?"
"Call me Bunny."
"I thought only your friends were allowed to call you Bunny." he teased softly.
She smiled up at him. "Well, you did take care of my friends and me, so I guess that makes you a friend, doesn't it?" she asked him, seriously.
He tilted his head a bit, considering her words. Then a grin lit his face. "Okay, Bunny, what do you say we leave this place?"
Her eyes widened and her hand shook a bit, almost sloshing wine from the goblet. He raised an eyebrow at her nervousness, but otherwise ignored it. After all, it was to be expected. "A-alright." she inclined her head slightly. If she was afraid, at least she wasn't trying to avoid being with him. That heartened him greatly. He scooped the goblet from her less-than-firm grip and left it on the floor. "S-shouldn't I take care of that?" she murmured, glancing at the cup.
"No, Buns." his nickname for her slipped from his lips unbidden, catching her full attention. "There are servants to deal with those matters." He dismissed them easily, not even the slightest bit disturbed by the callousness of his comment. Bunny pondered it, though. She let him lead her from the gaming house.
As they left, Bunny and Darien noticed a man in brown robes slumped against a wall, food and wine staining his habit. Darien merely raised his eyebrow in disdain, while Bunny openly stared, compassion and confusion in her eyes. But when the man's eyes met hers, she shivered at the hate in them, moving closer to Darien. Darien, ascertaining the cause of her distress, placed an arm about her and gave the man his iciest glare.
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The ride in the gondola was uneventful. Darien kept an arm about Bunny, but they didn't speak until they were closeted away in their bedroom. Bunny was nervous and Darien knew it, but she was trying her best to hide it, lest she anger him. Her brow furrowed as she thought about what Mother Petrucho and Signora Leila had told her to do. Darien leaned against the door, seemingly deep in thought, so she crossed to the bed and slid her tired feet from those hellish shoes. Then, entranced by the bed, she experimentally jumped on it. It gave underneath her, dumping her headlong across its length. Darien stared at the sight for a moment before laughing. He actually threw his head back and laughed.
Bunny grinned as she sank into the featherbed, then blushed, remembering that she had a witness to her shenanigans. Looking up she found an unreadable blue gaze locked on her. Her blush deepened as he began to laugh, her mouth dropping open. She watched him as his head fell back, revealing his throat. His laughter curled around her and she was pleased. Something told her he hadn't laughed like that in a very long time. Her laughter joined his for a moment.
Darien paused when he heard laughter join his. Where his laughter was deep, hers was musical, like light. Her face was flushed and she sat in the absolute middle of the giant bed, watching him. Curled up in the exact center of the bed, hair pooled around her, eyes bright with amusement and mischief, she seemed more like a kitten then a Bunny. He glanced around the room, noting her shoes. "Buns, come here." he asked softly.
She rose, walking a little unbalancedly on the bed, reminding him of a slightly drunken sailor. Then she jumped down, wincing a little at the cold floor and padded over to him, blue eyes curious. "Where are your shoes?" he teased.
She wrinkled her nose distastefully. "They hurt! Plus I'm terrified I'm going to fall and break my neck in them."
He gazed down at her. "So tiny," he murmured so softly she wasn't sure she understood him. Then he caught her in his arms, dragging her to him. Surprised, she only stared up at him, seeing his eyes darken. Then the world exploded as his lips touched hers.
Bunny wasn't the only one stunned by the kiss. It seemed to reach into both their souls. He released her suddenly, alarmed at the feelings rushing through him. She stumbled back, almost falling, but he caught her at the last moment. They froze there for a long moment, Bunny practically lying in his arms, suspended over the floor. She stared up, he down, their gazes searching each other out. Each seemed to find the secrets in the other's soul. Time slowed as Darien lifted her in his arms and carried her to the bed. Leaning over her, he laid her down very gently. His lips descended again, but this time she was reaching for him as well. Her arms entwined about his neck, pulling him to her. He moved forward, crushing the rose dress beneath him as he brought his full weight upon her. She welcomed his weight, his heat, his touch.
He trailed kisses down her throat, marveling at her smooth, pale skin. He quickly undid her bodice, skimming the gown and chemise off her slowly, kissing each inch of her skin as he revealed it to his sight. She moaned beneath him, firing his blood, but he kept his pace slow. Once he had slid the gown all the way to the floor, he slid beside her, turning her to lie side by side. He stared into her eyes, his hands weaving through her hair. "Take it down." he whispered silkily in her ear, pressing a kiss to her earlobe. She raised her hands to the twin buns, slipping out the jeweled fasteners. He took them from her, then carefully unclasped the pearl choker and took them to the table across the room. He gathered up the expensive dress and laid it over a chair.
He glanced back at his beautiful angel, the woman he knew he had lost his heart to. She lay on her side, watching him, hair flowing over her like a cascade of golden silk. She looked so wanton at the moment. His hands moved to remove his jacket and shirt, mindful of how her eyes watched him hungrily. He then bent to tug off his leather boots. But when his hands moved to remove his pants, her faced flamed and she rolled onto her back, eyes closed. He chuckled softly at the reminder of her innocence.
After a moment, Bunny heard the sound of cloth hitting the floor, a soft whooshing sound. She could tell, even through her tightly closed eyes, that some of the candles had been put out. She began to relax, and then the bed dipped. Nervousness returned full force as she felt him move closer to her. He moved over her, his hands caressing her face, toying with her hair. Still she kept her eyes closed.
"So beautiful, Buns." he murmured, sensing her nervousness. He kissed her gently, feeling her response. The passion of their kiss burned through her nervousness. "My little bunny." he whispered gently as he moved to claim her. As she yielded to him, she fluttered her eyes open, finding him staring intently at her. "Mine." he murmured.
She shook her head. "I'm not a possession." she protested.
He held himself just shy of ending her innocence and stared down at her. "No, you aren't. You own me. I'm yours." At her look of confusion, he touched his forehead to hers. "I love you."
He'd expected shock, laughter or cruel words, but he didn't get them. Instead, Bunny wrapped her arms around his neck and smiled contentedly. Unable to wait any longer, and sensing she didn't want to wait either, he slipped into her. He barely heard her whisper, "I love you too, Darien." before she let out a soft cry. He looked up to see tears in her eyes at the pain of losing her innocence, but was drawn in by the love behind the tears. He captured her lips in a soul-searing kiss as he swept her away in a flood of passion.
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AN (Yup, me again! hehe) ummmm, well, this chapter is a lot longer than expected, but I hope ya like. Thanks to all those who reviewed and emailed!!! Chapter 5 is due out, oh, soon. Probably within a week. Please, lemme know what ya thought. I do think this chapter was worth the wait. (grins)