Page 36 of Unrestricted
Adriano chuckles. He smears lubricant over my ass, then coats the plug in it also. I'm grateful he's being considerate even if this is meant to be a punishment, but I'm still not sure how that thing is going to fit inside me.
He puts a hand on my lower back as he positions the tip of the plug at my entrance. I bow my head.
"No, Eliza," he says sternly. "I want you to watch as I plug your disobedient ass."
I look up at the mirror, my eyes meeting his. They're dark with desire.
He pushes the tip of the plug into me and I whimper. Tears well in my eyes but I spent too long perfecting my makeup to allow them to fall.
The plug slowly enters me. It hurts and my body tries to expel it. Adriano presses firmly and my muscles clench.
"Relax, Eliza. This is going in one way or the other."
I don't want to think about what that means. Breathing slowly, I relax as much as I can and Adriano pushes the plug all the way in.
He draws my panties back up and helps me to stand.
The plug is uncomfortable but it doesn’t hurt. I’ll be aware of its presence all night, though. That’s for sure.
"You did well, Eliza. Now, let's get going. We don't want to be late.”
I’m about to mingle with Roman high society with a collar at my throat and a plug up my ass but sure, let’s worry about being late.
As I take the hand Adriano offers me, I grab my purse with the and glance at myself in the mirror once more.
My cheeks are a deeper red than the blush I applied and my eyes are glazed.
There’s no way people won’t realize there’s something up with me.
Fuck my life.
TWELVE
Adriano
Eliza walks out of the house ahead of me, her head held high. She refuses my assistance to get into the back of the SUV Santino will be driving us to the gala in tonight.
Though I prefer to be behind the wheel, I intend to have a few drinks tonight and my cousins would never let me live it down if I was arrested for driving while impaired.
Once she's settled on her seat I move around to the other side and get in next to her. I'm looking forward to this evening, especially knowing what lies beneath that gorgeous silk gown. I've attended a hundred galas like this but never with a woman like Eliza by my side.
The drive into Rome is quick with none of the usual traffic delays on the outskirts. Eliza is quiet which isn't like her. I've already come to expect her to have something to say on most topics. I suspect she's too focused on the strange sensations in her body to comment on the world around her.
Though her face is serene, the way she holds herself betrays some tension. Her posture is stiff. It could, of course, be nerves, but I doubt it.
Eliza handles me just fine. She can cope with a few snobby entrepreneurs.
When we reach the venue, a palazzo on the Via Giulia, I get out of the car and come to open her door for her. She gets out and smooths down her dress.
"There are photographers here," she says quietly.
"Of course there are,cara. It's a high profile event."
The way her mouth twists tells me this bothers her.
"You don't want to be seen with me?" My tone dares her to confirm that's the issue.
"It's not that. It's just nobody knows I'm back and what if Gabriele sees a picture of us?"
