Chapter 4

No sooner had I laid eyes on my runaway bride than a man stumbled into my path. Shoving him aside, I raced forward but lost her again.

When I next caught sight of her, she was in the northwest corner of the piazza. She had ditched the skirt and peasant blouse and was now displaying her every curve in a pair of thigh-high boots, a tiny skirt, and a white lace corset.

Che due palle!

The woman was already in the arms of another man.

Worse than that, she had her legs wrapped around him like a fucking bitch in heat.

Storming up to them both, I twisted my hand into the back of her hair and pulled her off him.

As she fell back into my arms with a cry, I rumbled into her ear. "What the fuck did I just tell you about other men?"

The man she was with yanked on her arm. "Get your hands off her!"

I cocked my head to the side. "Manfreak? Is that you?"

Behind his mask, his eyes widened, then narrowed. "It's Manfredo, asshole."

"I'm never going to remember that, so how about I just call you little dick and warn you not to touch what's now mine again, or I'll rip off your head and shove it up your ass so you'll know what a real asshole looks like. Deal?"

Gasping and giggling, Antonias shoulders shook with hiccups before she lurched backward. Only my grasp on her hair kept her upright.

With unfocused eyes, she fixed her gaze on me. "Matteo Cavalieri, is that you behind that sexy mask? Come back for seconds after the yacht?" She laughed and patted Manfredo's chest. "We could do a threesome! Oh, my God! That would be so much fun!"

In yet another unsteady move, she toppled against my chest. Splaying her fingers wide, she ran her hand over my torso, then grabbed my cock through my pants. "Want to be on top? I'll let you fuck my ass."

I frowned.

The flirtatious inference, as if she didn't already know I was here. The raunchy invitation.

Was this yet another act? Perhaps to avoid my wrath?

There was no fucking way this woman could be drunk. Less than fifteen minutes had passed since shed been out of my sight. Even if she had been doing shots of strong Centerba, she wouldn't be drunk this fast.

To steady himself, Manfredo placed a beefy hand on the shoulder of the nearest person. "No one's shoving anything up my ass."

As she drew her fingertips over my lower lip, Antonia rolled her eyes. It wasn't the sensual caress I was sure she meant it to be. More like the pawing of a drunken cat. "I said my ass, Manny, not yours."

His lower lip jutted out, resembling a toddler who had been denied a sweet. "Why do I have to share your ass with him?"

With her arm around my neck, she swung her body backward to face Manfredo. "Because Daddy says I have to marry him, so you better get used to sharing me."

With a clenched jaw, I rubbed my hand over my eyes.

What the fuck had I signed up for?

As Manfredo clenched his fists, the skin around his neck turned a mottled red. "I'm not fucking you with him in the room." He then swung his arm wide.

Using my grip on Antonias hair, I bent her forward while ducking myself, to avoid the hit.

After releasing her, I squared off with my fists raised. "Apparently, one black eye wasn't enough."

Manfredo grabbed a wine bottle from a nearby cart and smashed it on the edge of the cart's counter. He raised the jagged edge and jabbed it toward me. "I'm going to en … enjoy … stepping in your … blood!"

I winced. "We need to work on your threats."

Evading a second jab from him, I managed to seize a round serving tray from the same cart. Ignoring the cart owner's shout of alarm, I dumped the crispy, golden-brown sticks of scagliozzi on the ground before holding it before me as a shield.

Manfredo stabbed the bottle into the wooden tray several times, causing a shard of glass to chip off.

As he leaned back and raised his arm for another blow, I flipped the tray in my hand until it was horizontal and slammed it against his Adam's apple.

Man's apple.

Gagging, Manfredo dropped his improvised weapon and grabbed at his throat.

Unfazed by the cheers from the surrounding crowd, I tossed some euros at the cart owner, then turned to deal with Antonia.

She was gone.

Vaffanculo.

Darkness was descending.Every minute that passed where she was alone, she was in more danger, whether or not she recognized it.

The flames from the burning effigy rose higher and burned brighter, the flickering light illuminating the group of Carnevale revelers who were growing even more uninhibited.

Their dancing had taken on a frenzied, abandoned air as their bodies swayed and jerked erratically to the music. Revelers started grabbing anything burnable and throwing it into the flames. Angry shouts from the vendors mixed with excited catcalls from the revelers when yet another cafe chair or small table was smashed to pieces on the cobblestones and tossed onto the fire.

Some had even taken to wasting decent wine by throwing entire bottles at the bonfire. Blue flames sparked from the wine as the ethanol burned off, releasing a burst of energy when the bottle shattered. A small glass shard flew into the crowd, but they seemed unfazed.

Families with children departed while older tourists retreated to their hotels, signaling the start of the wilder phase of Carnevale, where masks and costumes allowed for explicit behavior which would otherwise be deemed unacceptable in public. Already there were couples and even small groups in various forms of undress, writhing in each other's arms.

To shield my identity, I pulled my black leather devils mask back over my eyes. If I were to be photographed at this event, it could compromise my future endeavors for the family.

Where the fuck was she?

At last, as the band launched into a rousing rendition of Pizzica di Torchiarolo, I spotted her near the entrance to the piazza, close to the burning effigy. I smirked at the lyrics about marriage, a chain, and a grenade. Fitting.

In an attempt to evade me, the clever minx was back in the longer skirt and peasant blouse. Even adding a concealing headscarf she must have nabbed from one of the many costume and mask vendor carts that surrounded the piazza. She could give lessons in spy craft. Perhaps there was hope for her yet. I knew at least my father would approve of the evasive tactics she was using.

Too bad for her, they wouldn't be enough.

She was good, but I was better.

I was still several paces away when a group of four men surrounded her.

She cried out as they pulled off her headscarf and pawed at her breasts, tearing her blouse.

Breaking into a run, not caring who I knocked over in my pursuit, I quickly reached her.

With a twist of my hands, I flung the first man sideways by grabbing his sweat-drenched shirt. I then kicked at anothers vulnerable kneecap. The moment he bent over in pain, I caught him with an uppercut to the jaw. He was out cold before he hit the ground. After throwing a punch and hearing the satisfying crunch of bone as my knuckles connected with the third man's nose, the fourth ran off.

My disobedient bride attempted to do the same, but I swiftly caught her around the waist before she could take two steps.

Breathing heavily from my exertions, I yanked her hips back so her ass rubbed against my already hard cock, rasping against her neck, "Not so fast, colomba mia birichina."

A tremor ran over her body at the contact before she strained against my hands. "Let me go!"

My hand ran over the tight silk of her corset as I moved to cup her breasts, which were swelling over the lace edge exposed by her blouses torn neckline. "To the victor go the spoils. I've now fought two duels for your… well, we can't say maidenly honor, now, can we?"

She clawed at my hand as I pushed my fingers inside the edge of her corset and cupped her warm flesh. "Stop! Don't touch me."

As the soft weight of her breast settled against my palm, my blood boiled.

A feral need to quell her rebellious objections rose from deep inside of my chest, even as my cock swelled to painful proportions.

Was I a sick fuck for finding this persona of hers more arousing?

The crass wanton who threw herself at me with promises of raunchy anal sex held no appeal for me.

But this…

Her feigned virginal fear. Even with her nails digging into my flesh and protests rushing from that sweet mouth of hers, I couldnt help but notice the vulnerable way her body shivered under my hand in reaction to my touch on her skin.

That did it for me.

At this point, I didn't even care if it was all an act.

I just wanted to fuck her until she stopped running away from me. I wanted to fuck her until she finally submitted to her fate. I wanted to fuck her until I burned away all thoughts of any other man in her life.

She was my effigy, and I wanted her to burn for me and me alone.

Uncaring about the surrounding crowd, I moved my other hand to her waistband.

She bucked within my grasp, warning me, "I'll scream."

After slipping my hand inside her skirt, my fingertips brushed the silk of her panties. Pushing my fingers under the thin fabric, I cupped her pussy. "I'd be disappointed if you didn't."

I pressed two fingers between her cunt lips, gently sweeping my thumb over the soft curls between her thighs.

Fuck, she was already wet.

With a firm tug on her blouse, I successfully freed it from her waistband, allowing it to fall down her front until it reached the tops of her thighs, effectively concealing my actions from everyone except the most ardent observer.

After pulling her head back against my shoulder, my left hand dropped to her throat. My teeth sank into her earlobe just as I tried to push my two middle fingers inside of her.

She was too tight.

"Stop clenching against me."

She whimpered. "Please, you have to stop. This isn't right."

My fingers tightened around the slim column of her neck as I gently squeezed. A warning.

I tried to push both fingers inside of her again.

Still, her body resisted.

Not to be deterred, I pushed one finger inside. Her inner muscles clamped down around me.

A frisson of unease and confusion lingered in my mind.

Her pussy was so damn tight. Too tight for someone as promiscuous as her reputation claimed.

As a practice, I usually stayed far away from virgins. They were not ready for my particular tastes in the bedroom. Even so, it was hard not to imagine I felt the slight resistance of her maidenhead against the very tip of my finger.

Perhaps it was just wishful thinking.

It had to be.

I thrust the thought aside as I ruthlessly recalled her suggesting an anal threesome just moments earlier. She probably did some kind of Kegel yoga shit to keep her pussy tight.

The tip of my tongue teased the spot just behind her ear and lingered, savoring the salty taste of her skin.

I swirled my finger inside of her until the tight inner ring just inside her entrance opened and I was able to push a second finger in. I then thrust them both in and out, using the heel of my palm to apply pressure just above her clit.

Once again, I was treated to a low, throaty moan.

"You like that?"

She gasped when I again pressed my palm into her sensitive flesh, taunting her with the nearness of my fingers to her sensitive nub.

"Beg me to touch your clit."

Her spine stiffened, then she twisted her shoulders in a feeble attempt to break my grip. "No! I hate this."

I placed my arm across her chest, just under her collarbone. "Liar."

We were so close to the flames, the heat from the fire breathed against our skin. A devil's kiss.

Using my index finger and thumb, I pinched her nub.

She rose on her toes. "Ow! Ow!"

Keeping the painful pressure on her clit, I rasped, "Want me to stop?"

Her hand wrapped around my wrist as she tried to dislodge mine. "Yes! It hurts."

"Then be a good girl and beg me."

She breathed heavily, clawing at my wrist with both hands. "I don't know how. Please, you have to stop."

My arm tightened over her shoulders to stop her from squirming. "Open those pretty lips and tell me what a dirty girl you are, then beg me to make you come."

Her cheeks flushed so furiously I could feel the heat radiating from her skin against my jaw.

Blushing on cue.

I had to admit I was impressed.

I was sure she found it a useful skill.

Her fingernails dug into my skin, causing a pleasurable sting of pain. "Here? I can't come with all these people staring at me. Please, let go."

"I'll prove you wrong." With that I gave her pinched clit just the tiniest twist to bring a fresh wave of stimulating pain to between her thighs.

"Sciatiri e matri!" she cried out. "Please!"

Close enough.

As I moved my hand up to once more clasp her throat, I thrust my fingers into her tight cunt, increasing the rhythm.

In front of the bonfire, only a few paces from us, a woman stood wedged between two men in white bauta masks, black silk cloaks, and tricorn hats, appearing as a silhouette.

The man at her front tore her blouse open as she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. Her body rose so she could press her bare breast into his mouth before her head fell back and she slowly sank down onto his exposed cock.

Keeping up the pace with my fingers, I bit her earlobe. "Does watching them turn you on, colomba mia?"

Her breathing shallowed as I rubbed my cock against her lower back in an attempt to ease the growing pressure.

A small crowd began to form around the threesome in front of us as the bauta behind the woman lifted her short skirt, exposing her ass. He then lowered his zipper and pulled out his cock. Fisting the woman's hair, he positioned himself behind her.

The woman in my own arms stilled and held her breath as we both watched the man bend his knees and rub the head of his cock between the womans ass cheeks.

I shifted my free hand to her waist. "We both know what is about to happen next, don't we?"

Still pistoning my fingers in and out of her body, I clasped her ass with my other hand. "He's going to thrust his cock … deep … inside her ass."

A low keening moan rattled from the back of her throat as her head fell back onto my shoulder.

I continued to whisper darkly in her ear. "See how her back stiffens from the feel of the head pushed against her tight hole?"

In perfect synchronization, the silhouetted threesomes movements seemed like a choreographed dance. The man in front arched his back as his hands held the writhing woman under her thighs, forcing her ass up higher. The man behind took advantage, thrusting deeper.

The woman screamed.

My bride gasped. I was fascinated and intrigued by her reaction to the spectacle.

After crassly suggesting we partake in just such a threesome earlier, she now watched this display with bated breath, as if she had never seen something so raw and erotic before.

Softly, she whispered to me, her voice high-pitched yet shallow, her breathing rapid. "Is she hurt?"

I pushed my fingers under the curve of her ass to tease the center of her cheeks through the heavy folds of her skirt. "Yes. Right now that man's cock is piercing her in two, causing an unforgettable agony and ecstasy."

The women cried out again as both men ruthlessly double-teamed her. Pounding into her body as if they were fighting over a rag doll between them.

In that moment, my intended bride came.

I had to wrap my arm around her waist to hold her upright as her knees buckled.

She turned her head to stare up at me.

What could only be described as innocent wonder clouded her desire-hazed eyes.

It was becoming harder and harder not to fall for her wiles, not to believe the lie in her gaze.

I pulled my hand free and pushed my cream-covered fingers into her mouth. "Suck."

Her eyes widened and she tried to pull her head back.

I placed my other hand around the back of her head. "It wasn't a request. Suck my fingers."

The tip of her tongue swirled around my fingers.

Just the sight of her mouth being pried open as I forced her to clean her own cream off my skin almost had me coming right then and there.

I pulled my hand free and slammed my mouth down on hers for a brief, rough kiss, before I threw her over my shoulder and stormed through the crowd.