His Two Hidden Masks: Steamy International Billionaire Romance

Chapter 3

“The Mia Sorella?” My eyes snapped open, although my lips still pressed against his. What the actual fuck?

I glanced skyward at the moon while his delicious lips continued to explore my mouth. Of course, the one time I decide to let desire drive me, I pick the gorgeous man staying at my family’s hotel in the piazza where I grew up.

I invited pleasure into my life after a long dry spell, and fate decided to complicate things by reminding me that every damn thing in my life led me back to my family.

“Do you know the hotel?” James murmured between kisses.

My legs wrapped around his middle, his arms supported my backside so I hovered just above his hard cock, my pussy brushing against it with every breath. It was a sexy and erotic sensation.

“Of course,” I said, my tongue moving down his neck. His stubble tickled my lips. “I know every hotel in Venice.”

James leaned back to look at me, taking a break from our kisses. With a free hand, he brushed a stray hair off my forehead. The tenderness of his touch sent shivers down my spine. He lifted my chin with his finger and gazed at me.

“You are the best tour guide ever,” he said.

He leaned in, giving me a slow, hard kiss, and the energy in my core begin to swirl and build. I had not had an orgasm in six months, and he was going to make me come without taking off a single piece of my clothes.

There was no way I was missing a no-strings-attached night in the arms of this man. I had to find a way to get in and out of that hotel.

James sighed and lowered me to the ground. I resisted the urge to groan in disappointment. Wrapping my legs around his hard body had made me feel high. Standing in front of him, my body ached to be close again.

“I do have one serious problem,” he said, his brow wrinkling.

My heartbeat quickened. Was this where it all fell apart? Was he about to confess he had a girlfriend or a wife at home? “You do?”

“I have no fucking idea how to get back to my hotel.”

“Of course, you don’t.” I laughed with relief. “I know the way.”

I held out my hand as an invitation. James nodded and took my hand in his. I could feel the heat of his skin through the thin leather of my gloves. We exited San Marco Square through the same corridor, passing the jewelry store where we crashed into each other.

I couldn’t tell him my family owned the Mia Sorella, not now. The moment had passed. If I brought up my family connection to the hotel now, it would be awkward, or worse suspicious. Besides, this was a one-night-stand, nothing more.

We agreed to first names and James all but told me he didn’t want us to know too much about each other. I hadn’t lied when I told him I knew the Mia Sorella.

I just failed to tell him that my family had owned and operated the hotel for twenty years, that my family lived next door, and that the church where I’d almost married six months before was across the campo. It was just a slight omission.

We stopped walking just outside of the turn to Campo Polo. James tugged my hand and I turned to look at him as he stood beneath a flickering gas lamp. He lowered his gaze and looked down at me with a crooked, and now familiar, smile. My knees threatened to buckle. I breathed in slowly and hoped he hadn’t changed his mind.

“Before we go any further,” he said, his voice low and husky. “It’s important for us to be clear about what we both want.”

“Of course.”

“I want to have sex with you,” he said.

My God, hearing him say those words almost sent my release rippling. My body was ready.

“And I want to have sex with you.”

Still holding my hand, he slipped one of his arms around my lower back and pulled me in close. I gasped, my arousal ignited by the strength of his arm and the feeling of his hard cock pressing against me.

He leaned down and kissed me. Between kisses he spoke, his voice low and direct. “I wasn’t done,” he said.

“Oh?” I whispered.

“I want to play with your body until you beg me to fuck you. I want to run my tongue between your legs and taste your sweet cunt. I want you to spread your legs and take me inside so deeply that I make you scream. I want to fuck you until we both can’t move, until we both sleep.”

Holy shit, he was going to make me come with dirty talk.

“So, is this the other thing besides coffee that helps you sleep at night?” I whispered, a slow smile creeping across my face.

“Yes, yes, it is,” he said, pausing his kisses to look at me again.

I inhaled and held my breath. I wondered why he didn’t just take me here up against the cobblestoned walls of this dark corridor. My body was so tight with desire, I considered begging him to fuck me right there.

I would wrap my legs around his waist like he had held me in San Marco. He would push my panties to the side of my entrance and slide his cock deep inside me.

I wouldn’t be the first. Many lovers had been overcome by desire, claiming their pleasure in the shadowed corners of Venice.

Above us, stars sparkled against the dark of the night sky. The moon held her position overhead, bathing us in her magical blue light.

“We’re almost there.” I tugged his hand and pulled him closer to Campo San Polo. I felt powerful leading him.

We belonged to each other for one night. Just one night. My mind whispered this constraint like a safe word.

Of course, it was just one night, but why was I already wondering what he looked like in the morning light.

In Campo San Polo,we stood in front of the gated entrance to the Mia Sorella Hotel. It was close to two a.m., and the front doors had been locked since eleven p.m. James held out his key card and the gate, leading to the small garden in front of the hotel, clicked open.

I remembered the master key to the hotel on my key ring. I could, of course, get into any entrance to the hotel any time of day. I’d had the key for years, being a member of the Uzano family. I only used the key on a regular basis to access the kitchen and distribute boxes of my candies to the front desk.

James held open the front door to the lobby, and I held my breath, praying the night staff were in the back of the house doing paperwork or in the alley taking a smoke break. The front desk was notoriously dull at night. The lobby was empty.

I sighed with relief as we walked across the wide black-and-white marble tile floor. Gas lanterns going up the main staircase bathed the room in a kind of candlelight.

The hotel looked beautiful, and I allowed myself a feeling of pride, remembering it had been my idea to add gas lanterns to the stairs. The painting of Sara hung on a wall opposite the marble staircase.

“It’s not fancy, but it’s nice enough,” James said, shrugging.

Not fancy? My temper flared, but I breathed through it, reminding myself I was here to get fucked, not argue.

James held my hand at the main staircase and nodded up the stairs. “We are in room 312,” he said.

Holy shit. 312. “The Lover’s Suite?”

He cocked his head to the side. “You do know this hotel.”

“I do,” I said, realizing how weird it was to have direct knowledge about a specific room. “Every good Venetian knows about the best rooms in each hotel.”

The Lover’s Suite was a room reserved for just that, lovers, or high roller guests who insisted on only the finest things. I thought about James’ expensive clothes and his comments about growing up in boarding schools in Europe. His present and past dripped money, but I also knew that I wasn’t supposed to ask.

Two things happened at once. James smiled and looked at me, his mouth opening as if he had something to say just as I heard the sound of footsteps behind us. Whoever was working the night shift was now front of the house.

“Good evening, sir.” Paolo’s voice carried across the marble floor. I spun around so my back was toward the front desk, and reaching up I grabbed James’s face with both hands and kissed him.

I pushed my tongue into his mouth with force, and pressed my body up against his cock. He leaned into me with appreciation as I backed him toward the stairs, never taking my lips off his.

“Sleep well, Signor,” Paolo said, sounding nonplussed. He had seen a lot during his thirty years working the front desk. Midnight lovers were nothing new.

“You make it difficult to think a coherent thought,” James said, walking backward up the stairs.

“And you Americans talk way too much,” I said, my tongue exploring his mouth as we moved in unison step by step.

Finally, we stopped in front of the double doors that led to the Lover’s Suite. He unlocked the door with his key card. The time for talking had passed.

I knew this room as well as I knew the winding streets of Venice. The Lover’s Suite’s enormous windows looked out onto the campo with a view of the bridges and canals of Venice.

The shades were almost drawn, with a gap large enough to let in a little bit of light. I’d never slept here, but I’d helped my mother hang the powder blue wallpaper and made the bed when the housekeeping staff was too busy or someone called in sick.

I loved this room and its shifting hues of blue. It reminded me of the lagoon and canals of Venice. The bed was the main attraction. Its high mattress sat in the middle of the room beneath a crystal chandelier, glimmering in the moonlight.

James placed his hands on my face. He leaned down and kissed me. His kiss was gentle, loving and I melted into his touch.

My lips parted and his tongue moved across my teeth. His touch sent chills down my spine and ignited a heat inside my core that I knew would leave me dripping wet with desire.

He unwrapped my pashmina, dropping it to the ground. My arms around his waist, I raised my hands and worked his heavy winter coat off his arms. He backed me against a wall, leaning against me, his dick hard and proud.

“I want you,” he growled. “I want you now.”

I answered, pressing my hips against him. “Please,” I whispered.

He slipped his arms around my waist and lifted me up as if I were made of air. He turned and set me on the edge of the bed.

His eyes on me, he pulled back the covers, exposing crisp white sheets. As the covers reached my body, he lifted me again and pulled the coverlet completely down until I sat on the edge of the bed.

Without a word, he knelt in front of me, and raising each of my feet in the air, unzipped my leather boots one by one, gently placing them on the ground. He stood and took off his turtleneck, revealing his bare chest. My breath caught as I took in the cut of his muscles and the trail of hair that led to his waist.

He knelt in front of me again and put his hands under my skirt and pulled off my tights. I took off my sweater, leaving on my bra. I was grateful I’d put on one of my lacier pieces. Thank goodness I hadn’t left the house in my granny bra and panties.

Standing above me, James slowly pulled his belt through the loops and undid the button of his pants. They dropped to the floor and he stepped out of them. I lay before him in my bra with my skirt hiked up.

My eyes could not look away from his black briefs. The bulge of his member was impossible to miss. The tip of his dick extended above the elastic of his waistband.

My breath quickened. I wanted him. He slipped off my panties and dropped them to the ground and lowered his lips to my inner thigh.

His kiss sent shivers through my body and my back arched in response. His lips moved closer to my sex teasing me. My skirt bunched at my hips. He looked up at me between kisses. “Take your skirt off,” he said, his voice firm.

I nodded, my fingers shaking with adrenaline as I undid the button at my waist. He cupped my behind as he raised me off the bed while I scooted out of my skirt.

“Your bra,” he said. He lowered me back onto the bed. I nodded and unclasped my bra, exposing my breasts. My nipples were peaked and hard.

Still kneeling in front of me, I lay naked and prone before him. My legs were spread and glistening with his wet kisses. He inhaled and his mouth was on me again.

My breath grew shallow with every kiss and flick of his tongue against my skin. His hands were on my sex. He parted me with his fingers, and his warm breath moved against my aching pussy.

He moaned and inhaled me as if he couldn’t get enough of my scent. “Fuck, you are gorgeous,” he said. I was so glad I’d gotten waxed the week before. I wasn’t completely bare, leaving a landing strip that allowed easy access to my cunt and clit.

James lowered his face to my pussy. He parted my lips, licking me again and again. I writhed in pleasure with every flick of his tongue. He’d found a lightning rod that connected my clit to the rest of my body.

“Oh, my God,” I gasped, my hands in his hair. I pushed his mouth against me and raised my hips up wanting more pressure. He smiled against the folds of my pussy as he continued to eat me like I was the most delicious meal in the world. His breath hot, his tongue moved in and out of me. Holy shit, he was tongue-fucking me and I never wanted it to end.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.” Shivering, my hips rose off the bed and greedy and wanting. My pleasure coiled, the slow building of energy continuing to grow as I ached for release against his lips. His fingers brushed against my pussy and slid inside me. I whimpered with pleasure at the sensation of him filling me up.

“That’s right,” he said. “Open up for me.”

“Yes, yes, please.” My pussy opened up with each push of his finger. One finger. Two fingers. Three fingers. “I want more,” I begged. “More. Please. James.” With his fingers inside me, his mouth found my lips. I tasted my pussy in his kiss.

“You are so delicious,” he murmured. His mouth moved from my lips to my throat to my breasts. He took my nipple into his mouth, his fingers inside of me. He bit down and my back arched as a ripple of pleasure and pain rocked me.

“Are you ready to come for me, clever Bella?” he said, his voice raspy. He hovered above me, eyes hooded, and his lips glistened with my wetness. Come shone on the tip of his cock, visible above his briefs. And he had a monster dick.

“Yes, oh God, yes,” I said.

With his fingers inside me, he drove them deeper. He lowered his head and put his mouth back on my clit, as his fingers pulled me closer to coming stroke by stroke. The sexual energy in my body coiled and gathered with every thrust.

“You want to come now, baby?” he asked. “You want it?”

“I want it,” I gasped. “I want it all.”

He sucked on my clit as his fingers rotated and pushed against me unleashing a wave of pleasure that sent me shaking. My release shook around his fingers, against his lips.

His breathing changed as he licked me gently. I shook and shuddered, my body jolting with residual orgasm as he played.

“Good girl,” he said.

“So good, so good.” I rode the undulating waves of my orgasm until my breathing calmed and only a feeling of bliss remained. I looked up into his deep brown eyes as he smiled down at me.

“Your turn,” I said, reaching for him. The need to please him overwhelmed me.

He pulled off his briefs. His cock flopped down, hard and bulging. “Are you ready?” he asked. I answered by spreading my legs wide, showing him my pussy, glistening and wet.

Kneeling between my legs, he unrolled a condom and slipped it on his dick. I relaxed my legs, my knees opening even wider. He lowered himself down, his arms on either side of me, his dick pressed against my entrance. I inhaled, back arching, as he slowly pushed his enormous cock inside me.

“Are you okay?” he said, his voice tender as he moved in deeper.

“Yes,” I gasped.

“Okay, more.” He pushed again and my body opened and widened to meet him. The lips of my pussy strained around his girth. It was the most fucking satisfying feeling. His hips thrust forward and he slid into me to the hilt, pausing for a moment.

“Fuck, yes,” he growled, his hard dick driving in and out of my wet pussy without stopping. We found our rhythm. His hips bounced against mine, our skin slapped together, our bodies slick with sweat.

I ground my hips against him. “So good,” I murmured.

Our breath ragged, we moved in unison, faster and faster. My body tightened around his cock with every thrust. I ground my clit against him, hips rising higher.

His arm under my lower back, he rolled over suddenly, lifting my body up in one swift move, pulling me on top of him. We didn’t miss a beat, as I rode his cock.

“That’s right, baby,” he said. His eyes hooded, his voice was husky with pleasure. My breasts bouncing, I moved my hips up and down as the ridges of his hard cock massaged me from the inside, my orgasm so close. I wanted him to fill every part of me. Each thrust moved me closer to my release.

James sat up, his hands on my hips and his lips on my breast. He took my nipple into his mouth, sucking and pulling on me as I ground against him. I couldn’t think clearly.

“Now, now,” I gasped. He sucked harder, and as I drove my pussy against him, I lost control, my release rippling through me.

I shattered around his cock, moaning and crying out in pleasure as I came in wave after wave. He drove into me and held deep, shuddering as his cock pulsed coming inside me.

I collapsed against him shaking. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head before running his fingers up and down my back. Goosebumps covered my body.

I rolled beside him, the sensation of him leaving me with a sense of loss, but this time, something new remained. Satisfaction.

My mind quieted, my body drunk on the touch of his cock, his fingers, his mouth. The room was bathed in enough moonlight for me to see the flecks of gold in his dark brown eyes. This man was beautiful, and I had made him mine for one night.

“Thank you,” I whispered, tracing my fingers along his chest.

“You are quite the tour guide,” he said, sighing. He stretched his arms wide and pulled me into an embrace. I rested my head on his shoulder. “I should get up and get dressed,” I whispered, my eyes heavy with sleep.

He kissed my temple. “You are not going anywhere,” he said. “At least not yet. I may need you again.”

“Yes, please,” I said, nestling my head in the crook of his arm. We slept for a while. We had sex twice more. Each time, my orgasm felt stronger and deeper than the last.

I had no idea how James kept getting hard; the man was a machine. I rode his hard dick, chasing that release and finding it every time.

I dreamt that night. I was in a gondola by the Lido. A man sat beside me, wearing a gold mask. I couldn’t see his face, but his lips pressed against mine and moved down my neck.

I woke to the sound of knocking. Disoriented, I sat up, wondering why Mama was knocking on my bedroom door.

“Signora Isabella?” A woman’s voice snapped me awake and back to reality.

Lissa, the young German housekeeper who had worked with our family for over twenty years, stood in the doorway with fresh towels draped over her arm. She held a master key in one hand, her expression a mix of confusion and fear.

“What are you doing in here?” Lissa asked.

I reached across the bed to find the space beside me empty. James was gone.