Page 33
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
A s we drive, Alessio calls.
He tells me, “You put an idea in my head earlier.”
“Oh, yes?”
“Yes. When you said, ‘shopping.’”
“I’m intrigued.”
“While you’re still finding or rediscovering yourself, this seems like it would be a great chance for me to buy you whole new outfits, dresses, jewels. Everything. Give you the big pamper.”
“Sounds nice.”
He says, “I have a stylist bringing the pick of the luxury jewelry counters and the couture fashion departments of the Copperhead mall for you this afternoon. Lots of exclusive pieces. I was going to take a suite at the Four Seasons, but the stylist said there’s a much better private lounge at the top of the mall for select HNW and VIP clients, so she booked that.” He’s quiet for a moment. I’m trying not to swoon. “Sound good?”
“Yes. Sounds fantastic.”
I tell Bruno and Carlo, “Alessio wants to take me shopping.”
Carlo laughs. “Of course he does.”
Bruno stands, smiling. “Well done Alessio. Keeping on top of all the important stuff.”
I hug Bruno and press myself close, loving the pull of his magnetism. I give him a kiss and he responds tenderly. We touch each other’s faces.
“Quite a day,” I tell him.
“You were magnificent.” he gives me another wonderful kiss. “As always.”
I tell him I’ll take a cab and I’ll see him later.
As we move to leave, Carlo takes my arm to hold me back.
“Alessio,” he says. “He’s jumpy.”
“I know.”
“Be careful. he can be explosive.”
“I know. I feel like he’s afraid of losing me.”
“I think you’re right.”
“Are you afraid of losing me?”
“Terrified.” I feel like he’s at least half serious. there’s no way to ever really know with Carlo, though.
I go on, “I’m sure a big part of it comes from how much he hates depending on anyone, me included.”
“For such a powerful guy, it’s really surprising, isn’t it?”
“I think I can understand it. I think my nature is a little the same. Especially after the kidnapping, maybe even more after the amnesia, it seems like he’s afraid I’ll go away again.”
Carlo nods.
I say, “There’s something else, though.”
“That thing you said,” he locks eyes with me, “In the old house…”
“Yeah.” I nod back. “I know. I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
The Olympic Excelsior Lounge may have the tallest windows I’ve ever seen.
Stefania is my wonderfully stylish personal stylist and consultant for the afternoon. Olivia and Chartress are on hand for makeup, hair and any other beauty or styling issues, as well as Camilla, who is in charge of making sure we have drinks and canapés and whatever else available.
Two models are ready to demonstrate all of the clothes and looks, prior to me trying them and taking them, or not.
Alessio isn’t interested in hearing why I don’t want the champagne, and I’m not interested in telling him, so I tip the crystal flute to my mouth every once in a while, and when I’m sure nobody is looking, I give the pot plants the most expensive watering they’re ever likely to get.
For a backdrop to an afternoon of extravagance, excess and debauchery, the Olympic mountains are hard to beat.
“Show us diamonds.” Alessio demands. And Stefania obliges. He orders up rubies, emeralds and sapphires. The sapphires are my favorites and I think they’re the best for my coloring. But he presses all the others on me, to, and I certainly don’t want to be rude.
We see fabulous dresses, tops, shirts, coats, and jackets. Prada. Bottega Veneta, Valentino, Stella. And shoes! Manolos, Louboutins. Luxury goods keep coming like a feast. I’m gorging.
I ask him, “Do I need these things?”
He laughs. “Better watch out. You never know what’s around the corner. The last month must have taught you that.”
I can’t argue. And he’s buying.
Well, I won’t run short of shoes for a while.
Alessio settles on a cushion cut ruby with yellow and white diamond side stones, round brilliant diamond stud earrings, I insist on a lovely liquid white gold necklace and we both agree on emerald cut diamond and sapphire pendant earrings, matched with a spectacular necklace and bracelet.
We’ve chosen dresses and I need to try some on.
After the first few sexy, slinky sheaths he starts to join me in the tiny, cramped fitting room. He comes into the changing room to offer his insights and helpful suggestions while I’m trying on pale rose silk, floaty shorts with Calais-Caudry lace, and a matching cut-off camisole.
“Yes. Yes, it’s fucking beautiful.”
I can easily see that he means it. He prowls close in the cramped space, stalking me, lowering his head like he’s sniffing me out.
“It’s nearly as beautiful as you are.”
I turn. Give him a coy look over my shoulder. I’m just playing, but he snorts like a bull.
“Oh, that looks so fucking good,” his nostrils flare.
“I’m going to tear it off you right now.”
He slams me, face first against the wall.
“It’s so fucking good to have you back.” From behind, he takes hold of my breast. The weight of his body presses against me.
With the tip of his finger, he turns my chin. With his mouth close to mine, he tells me, “I’m going to eat you. then I’m going to fuck you.”
I wonder about the girls outside. Until he tears the shorts with his teeth while he fingers and sucks me to a rising, spilling, overflowing crescendo. Then another with his tongue and his teeth, while he coaxes and teases my ass.
“Who are you?” he snarls.
“I’m Lucia. Lucia Benedetti. Donna Fortuna.”
I’m going over. Trembling. My knees are ready to collapse.
He rips the cami to shove his cock between my tits. But he still loves the feel of the torn silk in his hands, as he pushes my breasts together and rams his cock up and down between them. When he yanks and pulls my hair, I think he’s going to come.
He’s so fierce, we almost fight, we tussle and wrestle as I scramble, biting and moaning, up to my feet. I turn again to the wall.
“Fuck me,” I tell him. “Do it.”
After the slow, ripping tear of the shorts, he saws along my dripping cleft, smashing into my swollen lips. The hot thickness of his slick bulb cleaves my wet lips and splits me wide. I gasp and moan, trembling and jerking.
“You still don’t know who you are.”
His head is low and he almost growls.
“No.” I stammer.
“Do you.” He slams all the way into me. His savage need makes my knees buckle as he pins me flat against the wall
“Yes. No. Kind of.”
I come almost immediately. Then, he rams into me with an unstoppable frenzy and I come again. We come together and he explodes into me with buckets of sticky jizz.
Breathless, leaning forward with his hands on his thighs, he rasps. “You kind of know who you are? The fuck, woman. I know who you are. How can you still not know?”
I’m about to speak, but I decide against it. He anticipates me. “And don’t give me any of that pseudo-science bullshit that quack charlatan spouts. I can’t believe the hospitals let frauds like him loose with sharp objects to chop and slash around in people’s brains.”
When we get back outside to the showroom, reasonably dressed and composed, he sounds impish as he tells Stefania,
“We’d better have two more sets of the lingerie.”
I put a hand on my hip and tell him, “If you’re going to treat them like that, we’d better have two dozen.”
Stefania’s eyes widen and she gulps.
“Yes, alright,” he snarls, “Two dozen.”
“We…” Stefania is not a girl who likes to say ‘no.’ Especially not to a man like Alessio. “We may not have that many pieces in stock today. In la Donna’s exact size that is?—”
“You can have them sent. For fuck’s sake.” His eyes are ablaze. “she’s not going to get through two dozen sets tonight.”
“Well…” I tip my head and put out my lip as I raise an eyebrow.
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