Capo di Foia Ch. 04

"I don't know," she lied. She'd had far too much to drink. But the wine had eased the edge off her nerves and the lush boldness of this particular bottle - Achával-Ferrer, the label read - was nothing short of sublime.

She paused and smoothed back her hair. "Twenty three" she replied. "But those were all my own. There were more that I assisted on." Thunder crackled faintly in the distance.

"Do you remember them all?"

"I'm sure, if you asked me." She stared at her wine glass. "Some were harder than others."

Dessert was served and cleared as Samantha tried steering the conversation away from her casework. She explained the waning support for her division, with the budget increasingly directed toward targeting upstart terrorist cells across the city. (This probably wasn't news to him, and Franco likely exploited the trend to his full advantage.)

"Does that interest you?" Franco asked. "Counterterrorism?"

A bitter smile swept her face. "Why. Any Al-Qaeda cells in my room worth investigating?"

She could feel the wine pulsing through her body as the room fell silent for the first time in over an hour. She nearly regretted the retort.

Lightning flashed, illuminating the room with a ghostly smack of brilliant white. She looked at Franco as if to confirm that it happened. Thunder - the type that might instill the fear of God - boomed a second after and the windowpanes quivered in response. Judging by Franco's bemused expression her reaction wasn't nearly as dignified as she thought.

The rain outside grew louder - beating against the glass in a chorus of rage. The room, lit by waning candlelight, seemed much darker now.

"I love thunderstorms" Samantha looked out, unable to suppress her satisfaction. She felt mildly intoxicated and sorting through the haze, she wondered how the night would end. She tugged at the top of her dress; her neckline was dipping lower as the night wore on.

"Would you like to watch the storm?" he asked.

She regarded him. He looked polite, reserved - but somewhere in his eyes Samantha recognized the lure which vowed the darkest of intentions.

Samantha hesitated, teetering on the brink of prospect and safety, the thrill of expectation flooding her nerves and piquing every sense . She had a choice - she might return to her room and crawl into the safety of her own bed, or within a word - ignite everything. Franco's gaze consumed all rationality like kindling.

"I'd like that," she said finally.

In that moment, all was spoken.

* * *

Franco stood and walked deliberately towards her. He extended his hand, but it was his expression that beckoned.

Samantha took it, and rose to her feet - the touch of his fingers surged through her body like an electric current. His hand was large enough to envelope her own, but he held it carefully, the caress of his soft skin suspended in a measured display of maddening propriety.

She gripped his arm as he guided her up the stairs - less for support than to confirm the tangible veracity of what was happening. Through the smooth fabric of his suit she could feel the bulk and strength of his arm. Samantha paid no mind retracing her route through the house; in a blur of wood-paneled corridors and muted thunder she felt every step taking her closer and closer to the inevitable. What would she allow him to do? She felt so dizzy.

Franco stopped at a large black door in a familiar hallway; was his room so close to hers?

She heard the door unlatch. Ignoring his gaze, Samantha walked in. Thunder reverberated across the room.

The walls were painted a dark charcoal, the ceilings high. An ornately framed mirror looked down over the fireplace, reflecting - across the room - four perfectly positioned paintings with gleaming gold frames.

From the vaulted ceilings, a modest chandelier hung suspended over the bed; she couldn't help surveying the crisp white sheets on the severe, Victorian-style frame. A bench upholstered in red leather caught her eye - it was the only splash of color in the large, foreboding room. Even had he not led her inside, she would have known it was Franco's.

A streak of lightning, followed by a second, called her to the patio doors; there was a balcony outside. In a dark trance, Samantha walked toward them. The sky was vengeful, ferocious. Under the crackling sky, Samantha could see a vast expanse of trees - a dark valley stretched out below them. There would be no one for miles and miles. No escape.

She felt, rather than heard, him approach behind her.

Anticipating the touch of his fingertips, Samantha drew an intake of breath. She could feel him against her dress now, he edged closer until she could feel his broad chest pressed firmly against her back. He swept her hair away to reveal her neck as goose-bumps rushed up her arms. Samantha kept her eyes trained on the violent sky in front of her. His mouth now nuzzled dangerously close against her ear.

"Samantha..." He breathed against her cheek. She waited in response.

His fingertips swept across her collarbone and up her neck. There was a persistent, tantalizing patience in his touch as he traced along her skin, dipping lower and lower to her décolletage. Lightning flickered in her eyes as Samantha fought to resist him. His hand, strong, gripped her shoulder and now she felt his lips brush across her neck. Oh god... He was kissing - softly, fervently - down her neck, assuaging her resolve in a crippling attack on her senses.

His right hand brushed up her hip and up across the front of her gown, stopping at the top to trace where the fabric met the curve of her breasts - all the while caressing the length of her neck with the heat of his lips. A whimper escaped her. Helpless, Samantha, looked down. She could see his fingertips dancing over her chest, illuminated in spectral flashes of light.

The hand on her shoulder retreated, clasping her cinched waist before moving up the side of her rib cage. Effortlessly, his fingers found the zipper. Samantha winced, biting her lip, as he slowly drew it down.

She could feel the gown loosening around her, freeing her from its confines and exposing her flesh to the cool air of the room. He caressed her shoulders, before violently tugging the dress down, fully revealing her breasts. Franco's low growl rumbled against her ear.

His hands cupped her, brushing back and forth, over and around her breasts, his fingertips teasing her hard nipples until she shivered at his touch.

Samantha kept her eyes trained on the storm; the raging thunder scolded her trembling heart. With one hand he grabbed her hair, exposing her neck and holding her firmly in place. He feasted on her neck, the passion in his touch growing harder as he groped her breast. Samantha moaned, paralyzed with desire. She felt his hands gathering her skirt, hungrily inching the gown up to reveal her legs. His fingertips grazed the bare curve of her upper thigh. NO.

Abruptly she spun to face him, the skirt of her dress dropping back to the floor. She pushed away but Franco grabbed her wrists. His gaze swallowed her whole as thunder echoed around them.

"Kiss me," he asked her.

Samantha tilted her head back; the gesture was meant in defiance but Franco reached for her chin, held her in place, brushing his lips against her own. Her lips trembled, feeling the heat of his breath.

Without warning, he took her violently, and Samantha's body throbbed with need as she capitulated to the passionate kiss. He crushed her body against his -his warm, soft lips enticing her surrender as his expert tongue pleasured, probed and bathed her mouth in certain promise of what was to come. Each kiss grew more desperate than the last, and she could feel him hard now, pressed against the folds of her dress.

And then he stopped, and pulled away. His eyes never left her as he removed his jacket. He loosened the tie around his neck, deliberately, and removed it. The sight was excruciating. Her eyes pleaded with him as he stepped closer.

He stood still against her, she was grateful she faced only his chest. Gingerly, she touched the collar of his shirt. She wondered if he would be as susceptible to her, and resolved to reach up to kiss just above his collarbone. She exhaled, breathing, taking in the musk and the smoothness of his skin. She felt him sigh as a brazen force within pushed her to suck and lick his neck.

She could feel his hands now cupping her ass, grinding her against him. More. Feverishly, her hands worked to undo the buttons of his shirt; she saw what looked like fury in his eyes as watched her. His chest was exposed, and her fingers brushed the sculpted muscles before her, longing to be naked, pressed against them.

"Samantha. Now," he urged, swooping her off the ground and into his arms. Not four steps to the bed, and she was tossed onto the mattress like a rag doll, her bare chest panting as she took in the towering figure before her. Lightning flickered as Franco ripped off his belt, and unzipped his pants. A primal surge of need washed over her.

Standing over her, his eyes burning with lust, she watched him free his cock. God , he was huge. Involuntarily, Samantha squirmed underneath her dress. Her eyes widened in trepidation. She wanted this.

He crawled up over her; she could feel his heavy, hanging cock drag across her body over her gown. He was completely naked, except for the white shirt that hung loosely from his chiseled arms. His chest heaving, he cupped her cheek, staring intently over her.

"Ask me." He said.

Her brow furrowed. "Ask what?" she said, her heart pounding in her chest. With one knee he parted her legs before grinding once into her; his bulging cock was unyielding to her hesitation. She realized her panties were pooling.

"Ask me," he growled.

Samantha looked away from his scorching gaze, raising her hips and circling them against him, so desperate was her urgency. He gripped her chin, harder now, forcing her gaze toward his own. His expression looked feral.


"Ask. Me." He demanded.

Samantha reached up to pull him toward her for a kiss. He straddled her now - with both hands, held her down. His grip made her wince.

"Samantha," he said through gritted teeth. "Tell me what you want me to do ."

Samantha shook her head, her expression pleading.

She could not.

Franco growled and pinned her hands above her head with one hand, reaching to bundle the folds of her gown above her thighs with the other. His expression was cold, ruthless. She wouldn't have a choice. The reality of his intent sobered her senses.

"Please no," she whimpered as he released her hands to remove her underwear. Desperately, she fought to cover herself. But he was already poised over her, his hand guiding his thick shaft against her opening. As if in mockery, Franco swirled the smooth tip of his bulging cock in her slippery juices. She was so wet. He watched her now, anticipating her reaction as he guided his dripping wet cock over her clit. Samantha squirmed and tried edging away, but he grabbed her hip and held her fast.

"You won't deny me, Samantha" he whispered harshly, leaning over her. "Will you."


With that, he plunged into her - Samantha cried out, feeling his thickness engulf her. Unmoved, he eased out only enough to force himself deeper; Samantha's wetness let him in, even as she braced herself to accommodate him. Franco stilled only a moment to collect himself.

"Fucking hell, Samantha..." he groaned.

Samantha could only register his size - she opened her mouth to beg him to stop, just as he drove into her again. She moaned. The fullness sated and somehow provoked her most carnal need.

"Yes..." she relinquished her fight, hissing under her breath

Franco began to move, driving into her, circling his hips over hers. And then he stopped.

Samantha opened her eyes and mouth to protest, felt his hands on her bare thighs, and now his tongue began to bathe her pussy in its wetness. She stiffened. In the darkness her hands tried to push him away before her fingertips brushed through his hair, struggling for a grip. Her thighs began to quiver. Insistently, urgently he licked her clit, coaxing an ever-growing pull towards weightlessness. She could hear him lapping, groaning as he tongued over her in broad, swirling strokes. Distantly, she realized the storm was passing on. She thought of him pushing into her.

His knuckles brushed the tender spot underneath her pussy as he licked. The pull was too strong, she felt herself ready to burst. Samantha jolted, a throaty cry of ecstasy escaped her. And then he sucked, drawing every wave up with his mouth, amplifying the intensity of unfathomable pleasure. She forgot to breathe. "Sweet Jesus she panted as the delirium abated. "Oh my god." Still, Franco licked until she pushed at him to stop.

As the elation receded, she felt a surge of emotion swell through her - an onslaught of rapture and fear and shame. She struggled to fight back tears but was powerless against it. She burst into heaving sobs. In an instant, she was wrapped in Franco's arms. He held her in his embrace, his hands smoothing her hair as he hushed and kissed her forehead. She wanted to hide from everything. She buried herself in his chest, crying until the swell of his breathing lulled her to sleep.