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Redeeming Lust Part Two

His touch was the most exquisite torture I had ever endured.
On my drive home, the whole encounter kept playing through my mind. I still couldn’t completely grasp what had just happened. It was crazy of course, and I would never go through with it. If I was to show up at this address, I was just begging for peril to strike me.

Upon reaching my apartment, I realized that I hadn’t even purchased my book, but I didn’t mind. I was fairly sure my weekly visits to the bookstore were over. The thought of that stranger’s striking face eventually started to fade as I realized that Vincent was still coming to see me tonight. Soon, I found myself busy with other tasks, like my hair and make-up.

I threw the soiled jacket into the wash in a careless fashion, and hopped in the shower. The hot water was just what I needed to relax myself. I tried washing the address off my wrist, but it was still vaguely there, taunting me only a little. When I stepped out of the shower I heard the end of a voicemail being left on my answering machine. It was Vince. I rushed towards the phone, leaving a trail of droplets on the hardwood floor as I did so. He had hung up before I reached the phone, do I played the message back.

“Hey babe, it’s me. Sorry, but I can’t come tonight. Miss you so much. See you later.”

My heart dropped. Disillusionment plagued me again. It had been over two weeks since I had last seen him, and he didn’t even make so much as a half-assed attempt at an excuse. I went through a flurry of emotions varying from resentment to complete misery. I sat there on the sofa with nothing but my towel wrapped around me for about a half hour. He’d be expecting a call back saying the usual “Don’t worry, I’ll wait for next time, I miss you.”

I refused to let this go on.

Maybe it was my seclusion, or perhaps it was my emergent lust. Regardless of what emotion it was that drove me to make the irrational decision I did, the fact was that I had made it and nothing was going to stop me.

I put on the tight fitting black dress that I had bought especially for tonight, the daring amount of cleavage it exposed didn’t even bother me by this point. Loose curls, and cat-eye liner, I made myself look better than I ever had for Vincent. I looked in my vanity mirror, and behind the faux confidence I had created through means of makeup and tight clothes, I still look unbearably miserable. I could see why Vincent had no problem leaving me night after night. I was so plain. I had long dark hair, and a simple face... dark brown eyes. Plain as could be.

I would meet this man tonight, and I would have dinner with him. There was no harm in that. Right?

His address was simple to locate, it was in the more chic part of the city where starving artists, and sorrowful musicians roamed the streets. Store lights kept the streets alive, holding overpriced art, and overpriced souls. Everything looked so breakable in these parts, frail boned models, and glossy windows. Exposure.

I finally reached my destination. A large warehouse sort of place, it screamed at me to turn around and go back home. This place was no place for good girls like me. And even with all the foreshadowing, and the eerily large building before me, I found myself knocking at the door.

It didn’t take him long to answer, almost as though he was already expecting me to take up his invitation.

He opened the door, and looked me from head to toe. “Come in, come in,” he said in a friendly tone as he gestured toward the inside of his home. I stepped inside the door and an aroma of rich foods, and rosemary flowed through me.

“Thank you,” I said shyly.

His home was beautiful in an effortless way. Like all of his random possessions pieced together some sort of fine-looking portrait. I wanted to touch things. Books, sculptures.... beautiful things.

“May I take your coat?” he asked, although he was already helping me remove it.

“Uhm.. sure. Thank you, again," I said, a little self conscious about my chosen attire for the night. I knew better than to wear something as provocative as I did...

I could feel his eyes lingering on me and I felt suddenly exposed, naked. Why was I here?

“Please, make yourself at home...would you like a glass of wine?”

I pleasantly declined. I may have been stupid enough to come here, but I was not stupid enough to accept drinks from strangers.

“Oh but you must!” he exclaimed. “What is a good evening without vino ?” He hastily walked over to the wine holder he had conveniently placed in the corner and reached for one closer to the top. As guilty as I felt for doing so, I could not help but be smitten by the way his muscles coursed beneath his modest, but beautiful clothing. I wanted to touch him.

He pulled out a bottle, and fluently plucked two wine glasses off the wine holder. I declined again. “I really can’t stay long, so I cannot drink any wine. I have to drive home. “

He didn’t let my refusal stop him. He poured the wine into the glasses. “Here,” he said, handing me a glass, “try this.” He handed me the glass, and the slight contact of our skin touching almost made me drop to my knees. I could always call a taxi... I told myself.

The wine had a captivating taste, the spices danced on my tongue. “This is... very nice.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “Il gusto della perfezione.” The taste of perfection.

He sat down on the sofa, and gestured for me to join him. I hesitantly sat down next to him. All I could think about was his body, being next to him alone made me wet. I tried to pay attention to something else, anything else. There were books everywhere. Old, bound books with unfamiliar titles. I turned to look at him. He was already gazing at me. I had to clear my throat for adjustment. “I see you read, what kinds of books do you like?”

Not taking his eyes off of me, he replied, “All sorts of literature. Mostly poetry, and history.”

Not knowing much about either, I simply said, “That’s beautiful.”

“Just as you are tonight,” he said simply, not an ounce of humour in his tone. “Tell me,” he began, drinking the last bit of wine in his glass, “why is a beautiful woman such as yourself purchasing those horrid erotic novels every week?” He placed his glass on the low table next to us.

I looked down, ashamed and embarrassed. “Not every week,” I began to argue.

“No? I’m sure I must have seen you more than once in that store,” he said innocently. Damn him and his sexy accent.

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. “Sorry, I really must go now. I really just came to pay for your jacket. Just tell me the cost and I will send you a cheque.” I placed the half empty wine glass on the table and looked at him.

A smile of amusement played on his lips. “But you did not answer my question,” he said simply.

I felt my face starting to burn up and I looked away. “There is no reason, many women purchase those novels,” I assured him.

“Oh yes, I know,” he agreed. “But the way you do it...attempting to be discreet and unseen... I take it, your... boyfriend is lacking in the... bedroom as you would say?” he mused.

Instantly defensive, and suddenly aware of Vincent, I felt myself getting angry. “You don’t even know so much as my name! How dare you make suggestions like that!?”

I stood up instantly and started walking towards my coat. As I reached for it, he grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him. Without any words he kissed me. His lips hard on mine, he pulled my body painfully close to his and kissed me.

I pushed away. “What the fu—“ I began to yell, but he covered my lips with his. The more I pounded my fists against his chest, the more I could feel myself giving in.

Before I could even register it, I was kissing him back. His tongue traced my bottom lip, and within a shocking few seconds, he bit it...but only lightly. I had to keep myself from moaning. His hands moved from my upper back down to my waist. I felt my legs growing weak. I entangled my fingers in that hair of his, I wanted to since the moment I met him. He pushed me down on to the sofa.

“Wait—“ I managed to breathe in between passionate kisses. “I can’t do this,” I told him. “I can’t.”

He kissed me on my cheek and then just below my ear and whispered, “I do not care if you are with someone else, I want to release you from these restraints he has on you.”

I shivered in anticipation, and that was enough for him. He kissed me tenderly on my collar bone as he pushed his hands up my thighs. I didn’t even bother to silence my moans of pleasure. He hadn’t even touched me yet, and I was already damp between my legs. His hands were warm against the bare skin of my legs, my breasts...and the feeling brought on a sudden comfort...security.

My dress was pushed up around my waist, and he kissed my legs. Breasts exposed. Slowly he worked his way up from my calve to the tender spot behind my knee. He sucked on the skin, surely he would leave a mark. Sadly, I didn’t mind. Eventually he made his way to my inner thigh. He kissed me there and I whimpered nervously. With one fluent movement, he put my legs over his shoulders. He kissed next to my most intimate areas and kept teasing me with his tongue....accidently touching my clit here and there.

Without his eyes locked on mine, I let my mind trail off to Vincent again, and a sudden feeling of urgency swept over me.... this is wrong I thought to myself. So very wrong.

But yet, I didn’t stop it. “What is your name even?” I breathed.

He laughed, and looked up for only a moment stunning me with those heavily lashed eyes of his. “Riccardo,” he said. “And yours?”

I almost laughed. Here I was with a man who’s hands and lips were touching every intimate part of my body, and I didn’t even know his name. “Maria, my name is Maria.”

“Maria,” he repeated, and he kissed my inner thigh. His tongue traced the lace lining on my underwear and he said my name again. A little burst of excitement went through me each time he said my name.

His touch was the most exquisite torture I had ever endured.

He had managed to subtlety slip his tongue between the silky garment, and he flicked his tongue on my clit. I could have screamed. I’ve never actually had someone go down on me before. His tongue skilfully massaged my pussy and I writhed with pleasure. He grasped my legs with his strong hands and his tongue slid down towards my most intimate place. The only other person to ever touch me there was Vincent, but it was nothing next to this sensation.

I felt myself coming to a climax, and I let out a cry of pleasure as my I felt a sort of out of body experience. Riccardo took my underwear completely off and threw them on the floor. “Wait," I exclaimed. He took of my dress too. “I don’t know what I am doing here...” I said half-heartedly.

He kissed my bare breast. “You didn’t think I was done with you so soon did you?” he mused.

I didn’t even argue. I simply let him continue. He removed his shirt, revealing a physique more gorgeous than my mind would have led me to imagine. He started kissing me again, his tongue battled mine and he wrapped his arms around my waist. I was so very hot. I couldn’t breathe. And that was just fine. He hands found their way back to intimate places. He teased me by enclosing his lips around my achingly hard nipple. His hand was massaging my already wet pussy, and a sly finger had found it’s way inside of me. Never had someone so adoringly made loved to my body. I struggled against the pleasure, and I wanted to feel him inside of me. Just as I was about to cum again, the familiar tone of my cell phone rang through the hot air.

Riccardo had no intention of letting me answer it as he kept loving my body and God knows I did not want to answer that phone. But the idiot good girl inside of me found herself saying, “My phone....I have to answer it.”

Riccardo didn’t even listen, his tongue traced my jawline. “No you do not have to. All you have to do is let me love you,” he whispered seductively.

The word love woke me up. Surely he hadn’t realized what he had said, and did not intend it the way I heard it. But It scared me regardless. I pushed him off of me, and found my cell phone in my jacket pocket. It began ringing again. “Hello?” I answered, a little harsh.

“Maria?” It was Vincent. “Is that you?”

Inhaling deeply, and steadying my tone I replied. “Yeah, it’s me. What’s up?” I tried to sound light hearted and sweet as usual.

“Oh, I see. I was just wondering, because you never called.” There was a long pause, and all I could think was... Well, that’s because you’re an asshole.

“Yeah, I was busy, sorry," I told him.

A little taken aback as I could tell he asked... “Oh really, doing what?” I could hear the stupid little condescending tone in his voice.

“Things...” I replied simply, overly sweet. Just then, I felt Riccardo’s hand trace my shoulder blade. I almost forgot where I was.

“Well, I am going to come over, see you in a half hour,” he said simply and hung up.

Shit.

I hung up my phone and began searching for my clothes, almost completely unaware of Riccardo’s presence. Found my dress, and slid it on. I began looking for my underwear only to see them in his hand.

“May I please have those?” I said. It wasn’t really a question.

“These?” he asked, I could hear the playfulness in his voice. “No, you cannot.” He held them out in front of me, as if to display them. “I think I’ll keep them until next time.”

That pissed me off. “Fuck you, there’s not going to be a next time. I don’t even know why I came here tonight. It was a terrible decision.” I slapped him across the face.

Not even before the impact of the slap started to wear off on my finger tips he grabbed my wrist, hard. He leaned in very close to me and said in a hostile, deadly tone, “There was a reason why you came here tonight, we both know it. So if you don’t want you’re lacking little boyfriend to find out, I suggest you stop with the cursing right now. I will not tolerate it, my little Maria. “ He let go of me, and stuffed my underwear in his pocket. “You’ll come back. Maybe not tomorrow, or the next day even. But, I can tell by the way you were so vulnerable in my arms, you want what I am offering you. You need it. So go, because I will embrace you once again. I know it.”

He muttered something under his breath in Italian I did not understand.

“Potrei ti amo più di lui.” I could love you more than him.

I knew better than to respond. Instead, I took my coat and left.

I would make sure of it that he wasn’t right.

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