An Heiress in Venice by Tara Crescent
Series: Nights in Venice #2
Source: Review By Request
ARC Provided by Author
My rating: 4.5 of 5 stars
He is Enzo Peron. By day, he is a Chief Inspector of Police in Venice. By night, a Dominant at Casanova, Venice’s most exclusive BDSM club.
She is Alice Blackwell, an American heiress who has fled to Venice. She comes to Club Casanova, hoping to explore the submissive desires she has held in check for many years.
He dominates her. She submits to him.
But Alice has a past, and it is determined to reclaim her.
Note: An Heiress in Venice is a stand-alone story, but part of the Nights in Venice series. Other stories in this series are of different couples. This story includes spankings, domination, graphic sexual scenes, and more..
Buy the book here:
Loved this book!
Romance, sex, submission, and mystery…
Everything I love about Tara Crescent rolled up in one scorching hot novella!
The Nights in Venice series is shaping up to be a total knockout – each book is a standalone and spotlights a different couple. The central characters – Antonio, Enzo, & Tatiana are all Venetian orphans who grew up together. Each of them took wildly different paths with their lives, but their bond remains strong.
We met Antonio (head of the Thieves Guild) in the last book, and we’ll get to know Tatiana (The Starlet) in book three, but this installment was all about Enzo and an American Heiress hiding out in Venice.
There were Doms, even at Casanova, that would have felt disrespected by her attitude, but I cherished it. Each little bit of sass spoke to a deep comfort and trust. If she was afraid, she wouldn’t be tossing out smart-ass one-liners. She’d be clenched tight and quiet and terrified. I couldn’t imagine wanting that kind of mute submission.
Alice fled her life in Texas to start fresh in the beautiful city of Venice. After her husband died several years ago (and left her with an obscene amount of money) she shut herself off from the world… She was constantly in the tabloids, harassed by her late husband’s ex-wife, and was sent threatening letters…
Venice represented rebirth for Alice, but then the letters started coming – slipped under her door with threatening messages. When an unknown intruder nearly broke into her apartment, the police were called.
Alice wants nothing to do with the cops in Venice; she figures they’ll treat her the same as the cops in Texas – placating the spoiled heiress and not taking her seriously. What she didn’t count on was Chief Inspector Enzo Peron…
The connection I felt with him was ocean-deep, and I couldn’t pretend otherwise.
“You will give yourself to me,” he had said. My answer was wrenched from a place where only truth existed, “Sir,” I whispered, holding his gaze. “I already have.”
Enzo is sent over to assure Venice’s newest celebrity that the police are doing everything in their power to catch the person who tried to break into her apartment.
The connection between these two was immediate and unwanted by both parties.
– Enzo shouldn’t get involved with a victim – especially one as high-profile as Ms. Blackwood…
– Alice brings danger to any man she sees socially – she’s learned her lesson from past experiences…
Chief Inspector Peron decides that the perfect solution to get Alice Blackwell out of his head, is to spend the evening at Casanova – the exclusive BDSM Club. He did not count on the American heiress walking through the door…
As fate would have it, Alice Blackwell secured a membership to Club Casanova as soon as she arrived in Venice. She’s tired of living in fear and ready to give up control to someone else – even if just for one night. If her stalker is determined to kill her, why shouldn’t she live what’s left of her life to the fullest?
…he smiled again and my heart skipped a beat. No. Not my heart. That was insane. My pussy skipped a beat. Because the way my body was responding to Enzo, this was just lust. It had to be, because lust was all that was possible.
Enzo is a fabulous character – he’s dominant but not overbearing, protective but not controlling outside of a scene. He knows that Alice is afraid of something, and he quietly waits for her to open herself to him. Enzo doesn’t usually mix with inexperienced submissives, but his connection to Alice cannot be ignored.
He begins training Alice at Club Casanova where the outside world doesn’t intrude on their relationship – just a man and a woman exploring their limits and building trust.
I love how Tara Crescent writes these mature characters with such grace – it’s so easy to get absorbed in their stories when there’s no immaturity or unnecessary angst to contend with.
I’m anxiously awaiting the next book!
“I did offer you a drink,” she said once we were inside, kicking off her sandals with a sigh of relief. “Coffee?”
“I thought you didn’t drink coffee.”
“I don’t,” she replied. “I have a jar of instant coffee somewhere though.”
I shuddered in horror at her offer, and she grimaced. “Instant’s not the same thing, is it?”
“Not even a little, gattina,” I said. I didn’t mince my words. “Instant coffee is worse than sawdust, Alice, and does not deserve to exist in the universe.”
She laughed, a bright bell of musical laughter. “Tell me what you really think Enzo,” she quipped. “Don’t hold back.” She winked at me. “I also have a bottle of red wine.”
She turned on some music, something soft and instrumental, and we opened the bottle of wine. I took a seat on her couch, setting the glass down on her coffee table, and patting the seat next to me. “Come here, Alice,” I said. She wandered over and sat down, and I pulled her feet onto my lap. “Want me to massage away the aches, gattina?” I asked her.
“What if I tell on you at Casanova?” she asked, throwing her head back on the couch as my hands kneaded her arches. “God, that’s good,” she moaned. “Is this proper Dom behaviour?”
I laughed. “Being a smart-ass, that’s not very clever submissive behaviour,” I quipped. “I want a submissive in bed, gattina, someone who enjoys it when I take control. Elsewhere?” I smiled at her. “I very much enjoy your spirit, Alice. Don’t ever change.”
She gave me a startled look for a second, before she closed her eyes. “Enzo,” she whimpered, as my hands massaged the soles of her feet. I moved to her calves, kneading her tight muscles and touching her soft skin. My dick was an aching rod of steel; I was so hard for her.
Keep control, I reminded myself.
But she was not helping. “Please,” she breathed. “Please don’t make me wait, Sir. I need you.”
She was whimpering and soft and pleading, and tonight, my self-control was nowhere to be found. “Get undressed,” I growled and she exhaled shakily and pulled her t-shirt over her head and slid out of her shorts. They fell in a pool of fabric at her feet, and she stepped out of it, her hands already pushing the tiny lace panties down her hips. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts swung loose, and when she straightened, I stared at her beautiful body, open heat in my eyes.
I took off my clothes, keeping my eyes on her, and pushed her down on the sectional. Her hair hung loose and towards the floor, and she obligingly spread her legs open, showing me her pretty pussy. My lips twitched. It appeared that Alice’s impatience matched my own.
Rolling a condom on, I pushed into her with no preamble, but she was wet and ready for me. “Oh that’s nice,” she sighed.
“Nice? Again?” I raised my eyebrows, and she laughed.
“How about earth-shattering?” she winked, and I rested my thumb right on her clitoris. Her breathing picked up speed.
“Or fantastic,” she breathed, as I moved my thumb on her hot nub.
“Fantastic is an improvement over nice,” I admitted, pushing deep into her and hearing her whimper. “But I think you can do better.”
“Mind-boggling,” she hissed, and I spanked her thighs. “Okay, not mind-boggling, Sir,” she breathed.
I grinned. “Keep talking,” I ordered her, my thumb moving steadily. I could feel her start to tense her body as she climbed towards climax, and I shook my head and pulled my thumb off for a second. She groaned a protesting Enzo, and I chuckled.
“You get to come when I find a word that pleases me,” I told her, and she choked out a pained, disbelieving laugh. “Damn it, Sir, that’s not fair,” she whined.
“Would you prefer not coming at all, gattina?” I asked her, my voice hard, and she quickly shook her head.
“Stupendous,” she tried as I once again resumed thrusting into her wet, willing body, and my finger resumed its steady stroking of her clitoris.
“Stupendous is better than mind-boggling,” I told her.
“Amazing,” she groaned as I plunged in deep, and bottomed out. This time, her nails dug into my forearm, and she hissed, a sound of mingled pain and pleasure. She didn’t move away, not even a little bit, and instead, she raised her hips to meet me on my next stroke.
“Keep talking,” I warned, and she nodded, her eyes wild.
“Amazing,” she gasped.
“You already said amazing,” I pointed out, and she pouted at me.
“I like to tell the truth, Sir,” she replied sweetly. “And it really is amazing.”
“Flattering me so that you can get to orgasm, Alice?” I asked, struggling to keep from laughing aloud. “That’s an interesting strategy.”
“Will it work?” she said, and my fingers pinched her clitoris.
“Aah,” she hissed. “Oh, that was brilliant.”
Okay, I couldn’t hold back the laughter. I leaned in and bit her nipple, and she hissed and grabbed my hair in her hands. “Sir, please,” she begged. I could tell from the tremors running through her body that she was painfully close.
“Close, gattina?” I said in her ear, biting her earlobe in punctuation. “Then I suggest you quickly find a word, if you want permission to orgasm.”
“Awesome, fantastic, brilliant. Fucking amazing, Sir.” The words rolled out of her in a warbled, incoherent stream, and her teeth were clenched as she struggled to obey my order and wait for permission.
I relented. “Come for me, Alice,” I said, and I pressed my thumb hard on her clitoris, and pushed my cock deep into her. I felt every quiver of her body as she exploded around me, and I couldn’t hold back, I groaned and erupted as well.
When thought returned, she giggled. “We didn’t even make it to the bedroom.”
I looked at her. Oh, I wasn’t done, not by a long shot. I wanted this woman again. “We are only just getting started, Alice,” I said, kissing each of her fingers.
She stretched lazily and hummed in pleasure. “In that case,” she smiled, “let’s head to the bedroom right now?”
About Tara Crescent:
Hello, I’m Tara Crescent. By day, I’m a mild-mannered corporate drone in Toronto, but by night, I’m limited only by my imagination; I sit and I type, and I am a daring writer of BDSM, erotica and romance.
I’m a huge believer in happily-ever-after, but tempered by real life, where happily-ever-after is possible, but takes work. My favorite kind of romance stories are ones that are somewhat believable; I like strong men and women who know what they want out of life, and are driven to get it.
In my spare time, I write of course. I also read, garden, travel, cook, and almost never clean. I just started watching Walking Dead on Netflix (zombie erotica, anyone?), and I’m impatiently awaiting the next episode of Doctor Who. (I would kill for a TARDIS.)
From time to time, I blog about what I’m writing at my blog. The blog is also where I post book excerpts; highlight information about upcoming promotions, and so on and so forth. Follow me there to keep up with all the fun! (Oh, and sign up for my mailing list – I send out free stories every month or so.)