Bellissima Read Online Free PDF

lifted it, probably to take a sip. She imagined him raising it to his chiseled lips, the way they’d part to receive the rim, and bit back another moan as it came to her that perhaps his dark, heated gaze was, even now, trained on the wet slit between her legs. The thought of him engaged in the genteel occupation of taking tea while lasciviously ogling of her cunt was so deliciously bawdy, her entire body shuddered.
    Although his voice was low, when he spoke it made Jane start.
    “How old are you?”
    She had to lick her lips before she could reply. “Five-and-twenty.”
    “Young for such a responsible position.” She thought there was a feather-light touch on the hairs of her cunt, but it was so fleeting she couldn’t be sure. “Are you married, or is your title of ‘Mrs.’ an honorific?”
    So he was aware that, married or not, most housekeepers were addressed in such a way, but she felt a small thrill that he was interested enough to ask her status.
    “I have never been married.”
    Again there was the sensation, almost like a gentle breath, over the exposed flesh between her legs.
    “How did you rise so quickly to housekeeper?”
    It wasn’t something she wanted to talk about, never spoke of to anyone, but it was a measure of Sergio’s complete control that the words all but fell from between her lips.
    “I was a foundling, taken from the orphanage by my first master when I was only nine. He and his housekeeper educated and trained me, and when she died, I took over her duties.” Did he need to know those duties included sleeping in the master’s bed whenever he desired it? She didn’t know, and was loath to say so. “When my master knew he was ailing and probably wouldn’t recover, he wrote me a glowing letter of reference and left me a small benefit in his will to keep me until I found a new position.”
    This time the feeling of being touched was more marked. Just a light, quick brush, but enough to be unmistakable. Her legs, which had steadied as he questioned her, began to tremble again. That, then, was to be her reward for telling him what he wanted to know. Each time she did, he would touch her a little harder until, hopefully, he would fuck her. Knowing that made her want to hurry him along, get him to ask her as many questions as it would take to get to that most desired point.
    Seemingly he was determined to take his time, enjoy his tea, for she once more heard the sound of the cup leaving the saucer, and it wasn’t until after it was replaced that he spoke again.
    “But why have you bound yourself about with padding, made yourself out to be older than you are?”
    She couldn’t help the little snort of laughter that broke from her throat. “Housekeepers are in demand, but not if they are young and, in the eyes of the lady of the house, too attractive for their own good. I was told that, to my face, by the first two ladies who deigned to speak to me. That was when I knew if I didn’t want to end up on the streets, selling myself to survive, I had to find a way to disguise myself.”
    He made a sound in the back of his throat, one she couldn’t understand the meaning of, and the touch she had expected, craved, didn’t come. Perhaps he didn’t believe her? Didn’t understand what she was trying to say?
    “I was a foundling,” she said, hearing the desperation in her voice, not able to contain it. “I know what it’s like to have no one, nothing to count on. I would look at the poor gin-soaked women on the streets, wondering if one of them was my mother. Wondering if I would end up like that too.” Her voice had risen, and she struggled to moderate it, struggled to control the urge to cry. “I would have done anything in my power to secure a good position.”
    There was a sharp clack , as though he’d put his cup and saucer on the floor, although she had not heard him move.
    “Shh,” he said, laying his palm on her ass, his thumb stroking just alongside the outer edge of her