“I had forgotten what inexperience was like,” Orianna admitted. “I had older sisters who advised me what a courtship would be like. You had only me. I’m sorry I failed you, and that you were startled, Bianca. What did you speak of?”
“The wedding day,” the girl said.
“You told him it would be months away, didn’t you?”
“I did,Madre, and it was then that he said if he had to be patient, I must allow him the privilege of kisses and caresses,” Bianca told her mother. “I told him I must be certain such behavior was proper. Is it?”
Orianna sighed softly. “Yes, it is. He has signed the marriage agreement, and but for the Church’s blessing, you are already his wife. You must allow him to have his way.”
“Oh,”Bianca responded, not certain she liked the idea of caresses, and as for kisses... but there was no help for it. Her mother said it was allowed, and so she must bear it. And would probably get used to it in time. Her mother did not seem to mind her father’s endearments.
The next morning, Sebastiano Rovere appeared to escort Bianca and her mother to Mass. Her first appearance in the doorway of her father’s house brought a cheer from the young men gathered in the piazza. It died as Florence’s most famed lawyer stepped out behind her and took her arm. Together they crossed the piazza with her mother and entered the church. When they exited an hour later, there was a larger crowd of young men, but they were silent. Then one caught sight of the large, deep red ruby betrothal ring Sebastiano had slipped on Bianca’s finger when Mass had concluded. A hiss and a hum vibrated through the crowd, followed by a sound that resembled mourning.
The lawyer smiled, well pleased. While her family did not intend to make a formal announcement until a few evenings from now, it would be known throughout Florence by the noon hour that Sebastiano Rovere was to marry Bianca Pietro d’Angelo. He expected the crowds to lessen over the next few days, and they did, as Florence realized there was no hope. The most beautiful virgin in the city was to wed a powerful and important man, which, of course, was just as it should be.
Bianca could see the disappointment upon the faces of all the young men who had so faithfully paid her their court over the last few months. She felt sorry for them, and couldn’t help but wonder if her fate would have been different if Sebastiano had not come into her life—if her brother Marco had not been such a fool. When Bianca put the whole situation into perspective, it was ridiculous. To think that the accidental death of an unknown courtesan had catapulted her into the arms of a man she did not want to wed.
He returned them from Mass but came back that evening to take Bianca deep into the gardens once more. “Did you speak with your mother?” he asked her, and she knew exactly what it was he sought to know.
Bianca nodded. “But, please,signore, I beg of you, do not hasten me.”
“You belong to me now,cara mia,” he purred at her. Then he stopped, and turned the girl to face him. “I am going to kiss you,” he told her. “You will open your mouth,cara, and give me your tongue when I do.”
It was a startling command, but before she had a moment to question it, he was kissing her. He held her tightly, her breasts pressing flat against the velvet of his robe. His tongue slid along her lips, encouraging her to obedience, and Bianca opened her mouth for him. Immediately his fleshy organ began stroking her tongue, exploring her mouth. She gagged with the shock of the invasion, but he did not release her. His kiss grew more lustful, deepening, as Bianca struggled for air, for it seemed he had sucked it all from her body. Her small palms pushed against his chest, and she grew faint, sagging in his arms. She gasped deeply, drawing several breaths into her lungs again, and to her shock his attentions continued.
Bending his head, he began pressing kisses on the swell of her small breasts as she attempted to recover herself. His wet mouth seemed everywhere, and then a hand pushed past the fabric of her neckline to pull one of her breasts free. He groaned as he stared at the small, perfectly round globe in his hand. Then his mouth closed over her helpless nipple, tugging fiercely. Her fragrance surrounded him and drove him wild with raging desire. He knew he had to stop soon or he would commit a forcible act. But she was so delicious. So ripe for his taking, and he wanted her.
“Signore!I beg you, cease!” Bianca cried as he sucked upon her innocent flesh, arousing emotions in her she had never known. “Please! Please!No more, I beg you!”
Reluctantly he raised his head from her snowy bosom. His eyes were glazed with his lust. He drew a ragged breath, but then covered the little breast. He knew his cock was surging so strongly in his need for her that he was surprised it didn’t push through the fabric of his trunk hose. No woman, least of all his two previous wives, had brought him to such a state without a touch of the dog whip. He was both astounded and thrilled by the knowledge that this girl could have such an effect upon him. Particularly given his age.
“You are a temptress,cara mia,” he told her.
“I did not mean to entice you,signore,” she said lowly. “Will you always kiss me with such fervor? Why did you suckle on me?”
“Didn’t you like it when I caressed your sweet little breast?” he asked, not bothering to answer her questions.
“It was strange. I felt... I felt strange,” she told him. “I thought only babes suckled from their mothers’ breasts.”
“I want no children of you, Bianca. I have two strong sons, one of whom will wed shortly before we do. I will not spoil what I suspect is a perfect body beneath your gown. That body now belongs to me, and you will reserve it for my pleasure alone,cara mia. Before we marry you will know much of what I require of you.”
Bianca did not tell her mother of his words, or his actions as the next few months went by. She dreaded his visits, for she never knew what he would do. When the weather began to chill, they were given the privacy of a small salon, in which he slowly educated her to his taste. She almost fainted the first time she was given a view of his manhood. He made her kneel before him before he uncovered himself to her sight. Then he taught her how to handle his cock, delighting in her gentle, delicate touch, in her gasp of shock as he thickened and lengthened before her sight. When he was hard, Sebastiano instructed her to kiss the very tip. She did so, reluctantly.
Another time, when he was suitably firm, he explained to her how to lick him, starting with the satiny head of his cock, then slowly bathing the length with her tongue. He might have waited until Nudara could teach her these things. He had fully intended to do so, but he found he was gaining great pleasure in teaching her himself. Once a tiny pearl of his juices bedewed the tip, and he forced her to lick it up. “I sometimes enjoy being sucked dry,cara mia,” he told her. “Best that you get used to the taste now.”
Bianca was horrified by such a suggestion, but there was worse to come for her, she found. Her fifteenth birthday came in December, and after eight months of betrothal, her wedding date was set for the week after. Learning of it, Sebastiano Rovere became bolder in his tutoring of his bride-to-be. His hands began to roam beneath her skirts, stroking her silken thighs, rubbing her mons, and then one evening the curious finger of herfidanzatopushed between her nether lips. His lips and tongue engaged with hers as he began rubbing a tiny nub of flesh with that finger.
Bianca moaned as it caused that secret flesh to tingle. Stronger and stronger the sensation grew, until she could bear it no more. She wiggled against the finger until a lovely burst overcame her, and she sighed with open pleasure.
He laughed softly, darkly. “I am glad to see you can respond so naturally to my lovemaking,” he said. Then his finger pushed into her up to the first joint.
“Ohhh.”Bianca gasped.
“I just want to see how tightly your virginity is lodged,cara mia,” he reassured her, and he moved his finger deeper into her sheath. She was very tight, her sheath narrow. Breaching her would be divine. She would feel pain, as the membrane blocking his finger’s passage was strongly fixed. The very thought excited him. She whimpered, and he withdrew the finger. “There, there,” he soothed her.
Was there any escape, Bianca wondered in the days that followed? No, there was none. She would belong to this man till she died, and she would have no children to comfort her, to distract her from him. She had never seen the palazzo in which she would reside after the wedding ceremony. She knew his younger son lived with him, but the boy had just been betrothed to Carolina di Medici, a distant relation of Cosimo.
Stefano, who had wed Violetta Orsini in October, had been given a charming little palazzo in which to live with his new wife by his in-laws. Stefano’s father-in-law knew well the dark reputation of Sebastiano Rovere and did not want his daughter living in the man’s home. A silk merchant himself, Signore Orsini wondered how Rovere had managed to gain the hand of the fair Bianca Pietro d’Angelo from her usually prudent father. He felt sorry for the poor girl.
