Roman Rhapsody Pt. 01

My heart skipped a beat. The thought of going to jail in Italy did not sound appealing in the slightest.

"...Or," he interrupted my racing thoughts, "you could join me for some pasta al pomodoro at my place. If that's agreeable, I promise there won't be any questions asked." His offer, accompanied by a devilish grin, warmed the tense air.

I paused for a moment, then agreed. "That'd be lovely I said." It's not like I had much of a choice.

Fear prickled at the back of my mind, but an unusual sense of exhilaration also stirred within me. I was stepping into the unknown, with a man I hardly knew. It was reckless and maybe a bit foolish. But I'd been the safe, cautious Jenna for too long. Life in the states had taught me to play it safe, to guard my heart, to keep my emotions in check. But Italy... Italy was a fresh start, an opportunity to break free from my self-imposed chains.

His face lit up at my acceptance, revealing a boyish enthusiasm that made him instantly more relatable, and for a moment, he didn't seem like the stern police officer anymore. He reentered the car and we exited the police station's parking lot, the engine powering us onto the road.

Soon we found ourselves outside Rome, in a rural area with scattered houses here and there. As we drove further, the houses became bigger, grander, fancier. It was clear that we were going to a very special place.

Soon, we pulled into a long driveway with an upgrade that seemed to stretch on forever, winding through trees and shrubbery. We pulled up to a huge, modern mansion at the top of a hill, overlooking a commanding view of the eternal city. Three Ferraris and a Porsche were parked in the driveway.

Roberto parked the car, then came around to let me out. "Welcome to my home. Let me show you around."

"Aren't you going to take off these handcuffs?" I asked, trying to bring some humor into the situation.

He chuckled in surprise. Of course, signorina, my apologies. I got so caught up in the moment that I nearly forgot. He withdrew a key from his pocket and removed the cuffs one by one, not taking his eyes off me.

The lifting of the handcuffs felt symbolic. It was as though the burdens of my past, the hurts, the betrayals, the heartbreaks were being removed with them. Maybe it was the romantic air of Italy playing tricks with my mind or the intense gaze of this handsome Italian man that had me feeling uncharacteristically hopeful.

"How about a tour of my world, Jenna? Or as we Italians say, amore. Let's start with homemade tiramisu -- your first real taste of Italy." His eyes twinkled with mischief and anticipation.

CHAPTER 2

Roberto guided me through the grand entrance of his lavish home, and I trailed behind him, my gaze unable to break away from the captivating sight of his broad, strong shoulders. There was an undeniable magnetism to the way he walked, his confident stride drawing me further into his world of opulence.

As we stepped into the living room, my breath caught in my throat at the sheer grandeur that unfolded before me. The space seemed to stretch towards the heavens, its expansive ceiling adorned with a mesmerizing skylight. The twilight poured in, casting a warm glow over the meticulously arranged furniture and elegant decor.

"Welcome to my humble abode, Jenna," Roberto said, his voice tinged with pride. "I hope you'll feel at home here."

As we continued to walk from room to room, Roberto pointed out the various features of his home, each more extravagant than the last. Floor-to-ceiling windows offered breathtaking views of the rolling hills, while state-of-the-art technology seamlessly integrated with the sleek design. It was a world of modern luxury I had only dreamed of, a stark contrast to my modest home in Michigan.

We had moved from the grand living room to a sophisticated study, Roberto leading the way. With a graceful sweep of his hand, he gestured towards a wall lined with black and white photographs.

"These are my parents, Jenna," he said, pointing to a stunning image of an elegant couple. They exuded a timeless grace, both dressed in impeccably tailored outfits, their eyes twinkling with lively intelligence and a hint of mischief.

"Wow, they look so stylish!" I exclaimed, stepping closer to examine the image.

Roberto chuckled lightly, a warm twinkle in his eyes. "Well, style is their life's work. They are fashion designers, celebrated ones at that."

"Wait, are your parents the iconic duo behind the brand 'Milano Eleganza'?!" My eyes widened as realization dawned.

He nodded, a proud smile dancing on his lips. "The very same. They transformed their passion into an empire, bringing their designs to runways worldwide. Their success is how we've managed to live in such luxury."

"I'm amazed," I said, genuinely awestruck. I'd heard of 'Milano Eleganza'; it was a brand that had taken the fashion world by storm with its fusion of traditional elegance and modern chic.

"We've been blessed indeed," Roberto acknowledged. "Though I must admit, the house feels rather empty when they're away."

"They're not home?" I asked, realizing for the first time the quiet that pervaded the expansive home.

"No, they're currently in Milan," he said with a small sigh. "They travel frequently, overseeing the brand's various collections. This time, it's for the July fashion week."

His voice held a hint of longing, a son missing his parents despite the opulence that surrounded him. It struck a chord within me, adding another layer to the enigmatic man Roberto was proving to be.

"Your parents must be incredibly proud of their achievements," I said, trying to offer some comfort.

Roberto's gaze softened, and he nodded. "They are. But they've always reminded me that family is our greatest achievement. All this," he gestured around, "is meaningless without those we love to share it with."

His words echoed in the silent study, a heartfelt testament to his family's values amidst the world of riches they had built. It was a side of Roberto I was beginning to appreciate, a vulnerability beneath the confident exterior, an underlying sentiment that resonated deeply with me.

Soon, Roberto and I found ourselves in the heart of his luxurious home--the kitchen--a place that held the promise of shared moments and tantalizing flavors. As we stood side by side, the air in the room seemed to shimmer with anticipation.

Roberto donned a crisp white chef's apron, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips. He moved with the confidence of a maestro, effortlessly navigating the well-equipped kitchen. The soft lighting accentuated his features, casting a warm glow upon his face.

With a playful glimmer in his eyes, Roberto reached out, handing me a crisp, crimson apron. "Shall we embark on a culinary adventure together, my dear Jenna?" he asked, his voice rich with charm.

I nodded, feeling a delightful flutter in my chest. As I tied the apron around my waist, our fingers brushed briefly, sending a subtle jolt of electricity through me. It was as if the simple act of donning aprons had created an intimate connection between us.

Together, we embarked on the gastronomic symphony that awaited us. Roberto guided me through the intricacies of the recipe, his expertise evident in every move. His gentle instructions blended seamlessly with the clinking of pots and pans, creating a harmonious melody.

As we chopped, stirred, and sautéed, the scents of herbs and spices danced through the kitchen, enveloping us in a sensory embrace. We laughed, exchanged playful banter, and shared stories, each moment deepening the connection between us.

As the final touches were added to our creation, Roberto and I stood side by side, admiring our handiwork. With an inviting smile, Roberto gestured toward the dining area, where a table adorned with flickering candles awaited us. As we settled into our seats, our eyes met, and a shared anticipation filled the air. The culmination of our efforts was about to be savored, not only through our taste buds but also through the genuine connection we had nurtured.

With each bite, flavors exploded on my palate, creating a sensory experience that surpassed any expectations. The delicate balance of spices, the tender textures--every element a reflection of the passion and care we had poured into our creation.

As the evening meal unfolded, I found myself increasingly aware of the intensity in Roberto's gaze. His eyes, unrelenting and fierce, rendered me less a person and more akin to a tantalizing dish yet to be savored. Our dynamic was a peculiar dance, where I felt as though my allure held him captive more than his charm could me. His rugged, statuesque features were a sight to behold, particularly when they were so evidently riveted by my presence.

"Jenna," Roberto broached, his voice a soothing timbre in the candlelit room, "is there something -- or someone -- back in America that you've left behind?"

I diverted my attention to the untouched delicacies on my plate, a sudden vulnerability descending upon me. "I'm single."

Roberto seemed taken aback, his eyes widening slightly in surprise. "I find it hard to believe that a woman as stunning as you remains unclaimed. Your allure is a match for Marilyn Monroe's," He said, a playful grin adorning his lips. "If it's not too impertinent, may I ask, have you ever cherished someone profoundly in your life?"

An unspoken thrill danced along my nerves, swelling within my chest and lending an air of anticipation to the moment. I relished the trajectory of our exchange, but simultaneously a blush of embarrassment crept onto my cheeks. I was faced with a confession that felt at once liberating and disconcerting. "No. I've remained single all my life. I haven't even experienced the pleasure of a simple date."

Roberto's face registered sheer astonishment, his eyes wide. "Never?" His exclamation echoed in the intimate space between us. "Well... perhaps I could assist you in changing that."

Heat began to pool in my belly, spreading through my entire being in response to his suggestion. It was as if an invigorating current of electricity had set my veins aflame, an intimate awareness of my own desire making itself known. Emboldened, I felt a palpable shift, an awakened anticipation that reminded me of my womanhood.

Returning Roberto's smile, I offered him a playful grin, "That doesn't sound like a bad idea," I responded, punctuating my words with a flirtatious wink.

In response, Roberto smoothly transitioned to the seat adjacent to me. "Does this imply that you've remained untouched, Jenna?" His question, while bold, was spoken gently.

I inhaled deeply before responding with a soft, "Yes."

Roberto's hand found a gentle perch on my knee, his touch both comforting and electrifying. "If you're willing, we could change that together," he proposed, his eyes brimming with a promise that sent a thrill down my spine.

The wildfire of heat raged inside me, heating up like a furnace of passion.

Roberto raised his hand, caressing the side of my face, much like the young Italian man whose girlfriend I'd been jealous of earlier. The contact of his skin on mine sent a thrilling shiver down my spine.

"I can introduce you to new realms of pleasure, show you the path, guide you," he proposed.

I looped my arms around his neck, my breathing unsteady. "I'd love that," I murmured.

"Do you have any dreams I can make come true? Any fantasies you'd like to realize?"

A sense of embarrassment overcame me. I wanted to tell him the truth. I longed to confess to him my desires for discipline, restraint, and submission. I wanted to tell him that I want to belong to him, not just in sex, but in the truest sense of the word, to be nothing more than a possession of my master, my master who would love and care for me.

I remained silent, unsure what to do.

"I have a strange interest, a secret, you could say," Roberto began. "First, let me say I will respect whatever you decide, whether to engage in this with me or not, I will understand. I don't want to harm you, I want to protect you."

Curiosity swelled within me, but also a sense of caution.

"Are you familiar with BDSM?" he queried.

Excitement swelled within me. "Of course, I'm intrigued by it! I've read the entire Fifty Shades series!"

"That's not what I'm talking about," he said. "Forget Fifty Shades, as far as I'm concerned that book is an embarrassment to my fantasies. I'm talking about real BDSM, real submission, and real dominance. Fifty Shades is nothing compared to what I'd have in store for you."

So far, this was the most erotic moment I'd ever had in my life. A quick glance down, and I noticed a pronounced bulge in his trousers. He was excited, as was I.

I decided to admit to him that I shared the same fantasy, to submit to a man like him. "I... I harbor a secret too. I harbor the same fantasies, the same desire to yield to you."

Roberto's face filled with glee. "I would be honored to be your dominant," he proclaimed. "But know I'm not like Christian Grey. I like it rough, but I have a soft side. I want to show you real affection, I want to cuddle with you and hold your hand, I want chromatin walks under the sunset. I don't want to treat you like a slave, I want to treat you like a queen, my queen. I'd love to own, to be your protector, to be your god." He leaned in and wrapped his arms around him, pulling me close, giving me a sweat hug. "I will be your guiding force," he affirmed.

I stared into his eyes. "I'd love to make your fantasy come true," I said.

Roberto leaned back and grinned devilishly. "Well...," he started, "that might just be possible."

I looked at him curiously.

"You know the stories about Italy right? Mafia, and all."

I nodded.

"Interestingly enough, the Mafia and the police aren't that dissimilar. A lot of the police are involved in the mob. In a sense, the terms are practically interchangeable in this country."

My mind began to piece together the puzzle. "Does that imply you're involved with the..."

He cut me off. "Mafia? Yes, in a sense. But rest assured, I'm no mobster. I wouldn't hurt a fly. Simply being a police officer almost automatically entangles one with the Mafia here."

"Why did you choose to join the police force, when your parents are so wealthy?" I asked.

He grinned. "I like the power that comes with the uniform, I love having authority and control over people. It makes me feel so masculine, so dominant. It's a drug for me."

At this point, even without physical touch, I was on the brink of a climax. The palpable tension was tantamount to a visceral intimacy.

"I want to be your submissive," I said. "I want you to own me."

Roberto smiled. "As I was saying. The police and the mafia are essentially one and the same in this country. The mafia is really running the show, and, well, there is a way to make our dream come true. The mafia allows ownership of people, you could sign yourself away to me...." Roberto stood up and withdrew a copy of Fifty Shades of Grey from the bookshelf, showing it to me, then proceeded to toss it in the fireplace, causing a raging flame to rise. "Except, unlike in that pathetic book, it would not be a fantasy, it would be... reality."

I stared at the flames, completely captivated and entranced. The thought of being owned by this man was more than I ever could have dreamed of. "How... how do we do this?"

"We go before a mafia tribunale and make our case, then you take a blood oath to be mine forever. But you must know one thing, it's a one way street, once you belong to me there's no going back, you'll be mine forever. You'll have to do what I say, you'll have to obey. But I'll take care of you, I'll love you, I'll be sweet."

I looked up into Roberto's captivating gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. Could I imagine a life tethered to this man? A flutter of excitement stirred within me at the thought.

"But maybe we should... give you a preview about what life would be like before we make things permanent."

I sucked in a sharp breath. "I'd love that," I said, anticipation thrumming through me.

He held me close once more, and in my ear, he soothed, "It's okay, my love, I'll look after you. It's not just my physical strength that will keep you safe, but my resolve, my dedication."

The tension was too much, I wanted to get started right away. "Let's do this. I can't wait any longer. Let's head to the bedroom right now!"

His brown eyes pierced my soul. "This will serve as your preview," he said, his words hanging heavy in the air, "but remember, it will only happen once. You will then have to make your decision - to become mine forever, or to part ways for good." The gravity of his words caused time to seemingly pause, each second ticked by as I absorbed the depth of the choice that lay before me.

My yearning was beyond the physical; it was a profound desire to be intimately connected with Roberto, to wholly share this moment with him. I was mentally, emotionally, and physically prepared.

"Follow me," he instructed, his voice an intriguing mixture of gentleness and firmness. As we moved down the dimly lit hallway, each footstep echoed ominously, stretching out the seconds. "That's my bedroom," he announced, his voice softer now, as he gestured towards the door at the end of the passage.

He cracked open the door, and my mouth dropped at the scene.

In the dimly lit bedroom, an array of awe stood before me. Ropes hung from sturdy hooks, promising sensations of restraint and surrender. Whips, and paddles dangled provocatively from a wall, their leather textures hinting at the exquisite pain and pleasure they could deliver. A black leather-upholstered bed stood as the centerpiece, its sturdy frame equipped with restraints and attachments, inviting exploration into the depths of domination and submission. Chains clinked softly in anticipation, casting eerie shadows against the crimson satin walls. The air is tinged with a heady mix of leather, candle wax, and desire, setting the stage for an intense journey into the realm of power play and unleashed fantasies.

"I could do all of this to you... and more," Roberto whispered into my ear.

I ran and hopped on the bed. "I want it now, do it now!"

"I will restrain you to the bed," he said, "then, I'll excuse myself to get ready, keeping my return time a secret, to let the anticipation build."

I spread my limbs to the four corners of the bed, eagerly awaiting the embrace of the rope.

As Roberto expertly looped the rope around my wrists and ankles, a mix of trepidation and excitement surged within me. The rope was tight, yet strangely comforting, as if his touch lingered in the braided threads.

He leaned over, caressing my hair. Our eyes locked, the air buzzing with anticipation. His hands cradled my face as our lips met, a tender collision of desire. Our tongues entwined, speaking a language of passion. Time stood still as our bodies pressed together, igniting a fire within. In that moment, we were lost in a world where words were unnecessary, and our souls merged as one.

"I will be back soon, amore mio." He left the room, creaking the door shut slowly.

As I laid there in solitude, it was not just anticipation that kept me company, but my reflections too. I thought back to the day I first met Roberto, our shared experiences, the respect and trust we had nurtured.

I don't know how much time passed before footsteps sounded in the hallway. My heart fluttered, As I heard his footsteps nearing, my breath hitched. This was the precipice I'd been skirting around, the threshold to a world I'd only dared to dream of until now. Tonight was the night I was going to lose my virginity.

The door creaked open to reveal Roberto, his typical gentle demeanor now interlaced with a compelling mix of intensity and mischief. His powerful, heavy leg muscles caused each footstep to send shockwaves through my body as he approached the bed.