Letters to the Baumgarters by Selena Kitt

floors and a gold, ornate headboard over the huge bed. I couldn’t
help rushing to the window, the sweeping view of the Grand Canal breathtaking
before us, as if we could just walk out onto the water.
    “You belong here.” Nico’s breath against the nape of my neck made me
shiver.
    “In Al Ponte Antico?”
    “In Italy.” His arms went around my waist. “With me.”
    And I knew he was right. My whole life I’d dreamed of this, living in the
city where the streets were made of water and the buildings held the secrets of
an ancient history like a pent up breath. There was no more beautiful, vibrant,
living place for me than Venice, and I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere
else.
    What was I going to do?
    “Stay with me, Dani.” Nico nuzzled me, his words melting my heart. “I
can’t live here without you anymore.”
    “Don’t say that.” I turned, twining my arms around his neck. “We hardly
know each other…”
    He shook his head, his smile knowing and telling at the same time. “We
know everything we need to know. And you know it.”
    I did.
    He kissed me, soft and slow and sweet, breathing me in. What girl could
say no to him?
    “I have something for you.” He went to his bag and dug through, holding a
brown package out to me. “My sister helped me gauge your size.”
    I looked at him, smiling. “What is it?”
    “Something for you.” He sat down in one of the chairs, looking up at me,
slowly unzipping his jeans. “And for me…”
    “You want me to open it?”
    “Go to the bathroom and put it on.”
    I couldn’t resist. It was the finest, silkiest, sexiest lingerie I’d ever
seen, all black. The corset had straps on the bottom for the silk stockings,
the thong was black with two straps across each side and there were even a pair
of sexy black heels included—just my size.
    I knew he was out there waiting for me, but I took the time to clean up a
bit once I had stripped down.  Then I tried it all on, looking at myself in the
full-length mirror on the back of the door, my breasts pushed up by the corset,
nipples pursed and hard, my legs long and shapely, the heels making them even
moreso.
    When I opened the door, I found Nico still sitting in the chair still
mostly dressed, his cock out, hard in his hand, waiting for me. His eyes
darkened as I approached, his gaze sweeping over me in the outfit he’d chosen.
    “You like what you see?” I cocked one hip, my hand resting there, smiling
down at him.
    “You’re beautiful,” he said simply. “Turn around.”
    I did as he asked, turning in a full, slow circle, facing him again.
    “Bellisimo.” His cock was fisted tightly in his hand and just the
sight of it made my knees weak. “I don’t know if I should fuck you or eat you.”
    I grinned. “You can always do both.”
    “Good idea.” He grabbed my hips, twisting me so my back was to him, using
the flat of his hand to bend me forward. “Grab your ankles.”
    I did, the blood rushing to my head, making me dizzy, my long, dark hair
grazing the floor.
    “You like the shoes?” His hands roamed over my ass, snapping the thong,
moving down the smooth silk stockings on my legs.
    “Love them,” I admitted, and from this angle, I had a great view. They
were definitely Italian in design, and not cheap. “Nico, you spoil me.”
    “I’ve only just begun.” His fingers moved my panties aside and he slipped
his tongue between my pussy lips from behind, spreading my ass with his palms.
    I gasped at the sensation, the sweet press of his mouth against my flesh
so overwhelming I almost lost my balance. He steadied me, spreading my legs
wider, his tongue plunging, tasting me deeply. My thighs quivered and I gripped
my ankles more tightly, arching my back to give him better access. He chuckled,
running his tongue up and down my slit, making me moan and wiggle back against
him.
    “Oh god, I’m gonna pass out.”
    “We can’t have that.” He pulled me back to sit in his lap, the teeth on
the