The Maid

Oh my goodness, this has been such a long time coming. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update. At least I didn't leave you all on a cliffhanger I suppose!

Thanks again to my editors Misternik for copy editing and vmc312 betaing. This instalment has been hugely improved by their input.

So without further ado

*****

Sohpia's grandparents collected her on Saturday morning and took her home with them to Brighton. Andrea was going to pick her up from them the following afternoon.

This was a common occurrence; Andrea arrived to collect her on Sunday afternoon after Sophia had spent the night. They always stayed for dinner and they always had Sophia's favourite, 'Grandma's bestest ever fish and chips' before taking the train home.

After they left she called Stephano.

"Where shall we meet?"

"I can come and pick you up."

"No, don't be silly, I'll come to you."

"I don't want you to travel here on public transport, I will come and get you."

"No."

He was silent for a while and then she heard him sigh.

"We will meet at the school?"

After a brief hesitation, Andrea conceded. "Okay."

Another confrontation about where she lived had been circumnavigated and her relief was palpable, she was sure he must be able to feel it through the phone line.

"Wear something nice Andrea, I'm taking you out."

"Where?" She asked, already in a panic. "What should I wear?"

But he'd hung up already.

She spent the morning catching up on housework. When she'd finished, she spent an inordinate amount of trying to decide what to wear. She considered the dress she bought for Mark and Tara's wedding; it was cut on the bias and she knew it flattered her shape, but it seemed too plain. She tried on lots of other things. She was tempted to go for the comfortable option and just wear her jeans with a nice top but eventually she decided to go with the dress after all. It was a few years old and a bit out of date but she hoped Stephano wouldn't mind. Most of her wardrobe was all over the bedroom floor by the time she'd finally reached a decision, but she was late so she decided to deal with it when she got back. Hurriedly she packed an overnight bag and rushed out the door.

He wasn't outside the school; he was waiting at the entrance to the park. Leaning against his car, with his arms folded, wearing a sly smile as he watched her approach. He was getting closer to her flat by increments.

Her breath caught in her throat as she took in his appearance and yet again she felt overwhelmed by the situation.

He looked so confident and so incredibly handsome. His eyes travelled up and down her body appreciatively as she approached. He gently pulled her forward for a kiss before he opened the door for her.

Upon climbing into the car, he turned to face her and touched her cheek. She sighed, leaning towards him as he dragged his lips along her neck and peeling the strap of her dress off her shoulder. She gripped his thigh, her fingers digging into the fabric of his trousers. She gasped as he gently caressed a nipple through her clothes. He pulled back and gazed hungrily at her.

"You can stay with me tonight?" He asked urgently.

"Yes."

"All night?"

She nodded.

He smiled. "Va bene. What are you doing tomorrow?"

"I have to collect my daughter from her grandparents."

"What time?"

"I'll need to leave at about three."

He nodded.

"Where are we going?" She asked tentatively.

"I am taking you to see Rigoletto, it's an opera by Verdi. It's showing at The Royal Opera House." He sounded so matter of fact, as though he'd just told her they were going to the cinema.

"No," Feeling panicked, she shook her head. She felt like her heart had fallen out of her chest and landed on the floor of the car. "No, I...I can't go to the opera, not dressed like this!"

"Why not?" He looked baffled.

"This dress, it's too old, it makes me look frumpy!"

He looked at her blankly.

"No," He said, shaking his head slowly. "You look beautiful"

"No, I don't."

He ran his thumb along her jaw and she felt an involuntary shiver course down her spine.

"What you're wearing, it doesn't matter..."

"It does to me."

She looked down at her shoes; they weren't too bad, she supposed.

"I will buy you nice clothes."

She raised her eyebrows at him. "We need to get something straight Stephano, that's not how this is going to work."

"Why not?" He fixed her with a steely glare.

"It just isn't." she replied tightly, not feeling able to articulate why the prospect him buying her stuff made her feel so uncomfortable.

He didn't query her further, but somehow she just knew this wasn't going to be the end of it. She was pleased to notice that she didn't feel so intimidated by him anymore, just exasperated.

They ate first and she was grateful that the restaurant seemed far more normal than she imagined somewhere he'd take her before seeing an opera would be. She had a wild mushroom risotto and it was delicious. He had steak.

He noticed her eying his chips enviously

"Would you like to try one?"

Nodding shyly she leaned forward reaching for his plate with her fork, he grabbed her hand and unexpectedly a frisson of desire coursed through her. He laughed and the sound pulled at her insides. Spearing a chip with his fork he held it up. She leaned towards him and opened her mouth, allowing him to feed it to her.

She met his stare and found unapologetic lust in his eyes.

He leaned forward and in a voice to low for anyone else to hear he growled. "The things that I would like to do to you, Andrea."

Immediately, she felt her body react and she squirmed uncomfortably. It was odd spending time with him when they were not alone. She found herself wishing they weren't in a public place, so she didn't have to school her features or resist any urges she had. They watched each other in silence for a while until he spoke again.

"Do you like working at the hotel?" He asked.

Welcoming the change of subject with a small sigh of relief, she replied. "It's a job. It suits me, and it works with Sophia's school schedule."

"How long have you worked there?"

"Nearly three years, but I'm starting teacher training in September."

"Oh," He looked perplexed at that. "You will be a Primary school teacher or secondary?"

"Primary"

He nodded. In Italy you must have a degree and then another qualification, this is true here also?"

"Most of the time, I don't already have a degree so I'm going to do one in teaching specifically. Can you do that in Italy too?"

"Yes," he nodded thoughtfully. "I think that you can."

They'd finished eating and he was telling her about the opera they were going to see. She could see it was a subject he was passionate about. As he explained its history, and intricacies of the plot she noticed he used his hands a lot; they were very expressive. As she watched his long, tapering fingers she found her mind wandering off into dark forbidden places, remembering other occasions, times that they had spent together. She was watching his lips, the way they moved as he spoke, the shape of them, she was remembering the feel of them on her skin.

She was still gazing at his lips as he said her name loudly, pulling her from her illicit thoughts. She realised she hadn't been following what he was saying.

"Sorry." She blushed, biting her lip.

He smiled knowingly, his eyes were blazing and again she had the feeling he knew what she was thinking.

"Shall we go?" He asked, standing up and holding out his hand. When she took it, he pulled her towards him, resting a possessive hand on her back as they exited the restaurant.

The Royal Opera House was a very grand building, as they queued she looked around. She felt like a fish out of water, she peeped up at Stephano. He seemed to be lost in thought. He appeared so comfortable here, so confident, she slipped her hand into his, seeking the comfort of his touch. Momentarily he looked surprised and then he pulled her towards him and wrapped an arm around her.

"Are you alright?"

She nodded.

Placing a finger under her chin, he pushed her face to meet his, he brushed his lips gently against hers.

"Good."

The queue was moving slowly, giving her time to look around. She's seen the building before of course, but had never been inside. She felt overwhelmed by the ornate architecture and its tremendous size; it must hold at least two thousand people. They didn't have to wait very long before they were led to their seats near the front.

"It's so much bigger than I imagined." She said in an awed whisper.

The space was filling up with all kinds of people, most of them were much older than her, some were dressed up to the nines, but to her intense relief most weren't. She looked around, they were sitting very near the front. Briefly, she wondered how much this must have cost him.

Something comparable to a week of her wages,

she supposed. Suddenly the curtain closed, and she felt a flutter of anticipation when she realised it must have been about to start. She glanced over at Stephano and found that he was watching her, his gaze softened. He took her hand and turned back to the stage. She watched, rapt as the curtain lifted again, drawing a collective gasp from the crowd at the transformation.

And for the next few hours she was swept away, with the help of dazzling sets and beautifully crafted costumes into the magical world of tragedy, passion and revenge that was Rigoletto in the 15th century court of Mantua.

Surprisingly she recognised parts of it, but she wasn't sure where from; adverts on TV probably. When the court jester found that his beloved daughter dead it was so sad. The curtain fell and she hadn't even realised there were tears on her face until Stephano pulled her into his arms and began to kiss them away. She looked at his face to find him smiling down at her approvingly.

"I knew you would love it." She felt like she passed some kind of test.

Afterwards they walked hand in hand along the bank of the Thames. It was dark but there was still the ghost of a red sunset in the westerly sky. They stopped and admired the city lights reflected in the water. It was dreamily beautiful. She felt almost like she was floating on air. The skyline seems to change so frequently here. Despite living in London all her life she rarely had reason to visit the Thames, this was not a part of London she came to very often.

When she could finally speak again she said "Thank you for taking me. It was incredible, I've never experienced anything like it."

He stopped and looked at her, the look in his eye was dark and hungry. He pulled her into an embrace, pressing himself against her and spoke quietly against her ear.

"I would take you right here if I thought you would let me."

He pulled away again and looked down at her face.

"I can hardly bear to spend time in public with you, I want you too much,"

At his words she felt her insides tug with need. Rooted to the spot, she was mesmerised by the strength of her reaction to him. He took his mobile out of his pocket, and never taking his eyes off her, he made a call.

He took her hand and they walked a little further until they came to the car waiting outside the Tate Gallery to collect them. They climbed in, he pulled her into his arms and they were hurtling through the night back towards Kensington.

When they arrived in his suite at the hotel, he immediately started to walk around her, she felt like he was stalking her; like she was his prey. He stopped behind her, so close she could feel his body heat emanating from him, his breath on the back of her neck. Arousal bloomed in her stomach.

As he spoke, she could feel his lips tickle her skin. "I am going to undress you now Andrea."

She shivered as he slowly pulled the zip of her dress down. He slid his hands under the material and found her breasts. She let out her breath, unable to hold it anymore as she leaned into him. He stroked her nipples with his thumbs until they hardened into peaks while he kissed her neck. She was melting, so lost in her own arousal it was a while before she realised he was speaking.

"You looked beautiful this evening."

She blushed, and she was grateful he couldn't see her face.

"Thank you." She whispered shyly.

He took his hands back out and slid the dress down off her shoulders. He led her to the bed, slowly and deliberately he removed her underwear, she lay perfectly still.

"No stockings today?" He asked, as he pulled down her briefs.

"I don't wear them when I'm not at work." She mumbled, she wondered if perhaps she should have.

"Hmmm." was his only reply, as he dragged his lips across her stomach. Whether it was a sound of appreciation or disapproval she really wasn't sure, but it had a strange effect on her insides regardless.

Leaning towards her, he reached behind her and undid her bra, peeling it off her shoulders.

She was lying on the bed, naked, as he watched her, and she felt nervous. He gripped her waist with both hands, and studied her breasts intently.

He didn't speak or move for what felt like forever, she resisted the urge to squirm uncomfortably, finally she broke the silence.

"Stephano?" She asked quietly.

He looked up, pulled from his reverie. "You are perfect, you are absolutely, completely perfect."

"Oh." she didn't know what else to say to that.

He leaned forward and kissed her mouth gently, and then he stood and started to undress.

She watched him, this bewilderingly intense man, as he removed his jacket, carefully folding it over itself he hung it over a nearby chair. He didn't take his eyes off her as he undid his tie. For the first time she noticed he was wearing cufflinks as he took them off.

As he continued to undress, his every move seemed considered and careful. After a whole evening in his company she was almost panting with need, desperate to feel his naked skin against hers, this was usually the very first thing to happen and yet he was somehow able to move with what seemed like deliberate slowness.

Sitting down on the bed, he ran a finger over her lips, the sensation was unexpectedly intense. Involuntarily she gripped the sheets, making fists with her hands as he slid one finger into her mouth. She licked for a moment, then sucked until he withdrew it again. He slid the wet finger over one of her nipples in a slow spiraling pattern and watched as it stiffened into a peak, and she moaned in frustration and arched her back.

He lay down, facing her, and wrapping an arm around her waist, half lifting her off the bed he pulled her towards him, pressing his chest against hers.

"Would you like to come?" He asked teasingly, as he watched her.

She could feel her heart speed up in her chest as she tried to regain control of her breathing. How did he manage to affect her so profoundly?

She nodded shyly.

Continuing to watch her face, he pushed one of his knees between hers, forcing her thighs to part. An expert hand slid down in between their bodies and found her clitoris. Having been desperate for his touch for the entire evening, she found herself immediately writhing and bucking. It was almost unbearably pleasurable. She clung to his shoulders as gently but firmly he stroked her into a frenzy. She squeezed her eyes shut tightly focusing on the feeling of his fingers as he took her to the very edge of arousal until abruptly he stopped

Her eyes flew open staring directly at him, forehead wrinkled and painting with need. "Please"

He smiled wickedly. "Do you want to come, Andrea?"

"Y-yes!" She stammered, louder than she intended. "Yes."

"Would you like me to make you come?"

"Stephano please!" She whimpered, desperate to feel his fingers return.

"Answer me." He growled.

"Yes, yes I want you to make me come!"

"keep your eyes open, do not look away. I want to watch your beautiful face, I want to see what I do to you."

To her intense relief he began again, slowly at first, Alternating between soft pressure and hard against her clitoris. Sliding his fingers through her slick folds then returning his attention back to her clitoris, all the while intently watching her face. It was uncomfortable at first for Andrea to keep her gaze on him, but somehow she managed it.

Without meaning to she felt her eyes start to drift shut again, and he stilled, waiting, watching as she forced herself to open them and meet his expectant gaze.

She felt that familiar heat rise through her body as he wrenched a powerful orgasm from her. He kissed her hungrily as she climaxed.

Breathlessly, she tried to collect herself as the aftershocks of her orgasm washed over her, but before she had a chance to fully recover he had pulled a condom on and he was kneeling above her.

Wrapping his hands around her waist he lifted her, and lowered her onto him so they were both sitting and she was astride him with her legs wrapped round his torso, his erection impaled deeply inside her. She felt incredibly full in this position and it was delicious.

Cupping her breasts with both his hands he lowered his face to meet them and enveloping a nipple in his mouth, he sucked. She sighed as a riot of pleasurable sensations swept over her. Wrapping her arms around his neck to steady herself,she found his hair and threaded her fingers through it. Throwing her head back she surrendered herself to him.

Releasing the captured nipple, he slowly lowered her down on to her back. Her pelvis tilted upwards, she was still sitting on his lap but draped backwards. He gazed down at her admiringly, as he trailed his fingers lazily down her torso, it was almost like he was leaning out of a rowing boat and she was the surface of the water. She arched in response, inadvertently increasing his penetration, encasing him further within her and simultaneously they both groaned.

He kneaded her breasts in his hands as he began to move. He found her clitoris again and stroked it firmly with his thumb as his gaze traced the curves of her body.

She locked her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. Her hands found the head board above her head and using their solidity as leverage she pressed herself forward, pushing herself into him returning his thrusts with equal vigor.

Despite having only just climaxed it wasn't too long before she could feel herself starting to climb towards another orgasm. The feel of him as he thrust into her, the look of unrestrained desire in his eyes, the effect of his hands as they explored her body formed a heady combination and one she couldn't resist for long.

She could feel her internal muscles clench around him as she found her release and she couldn't help but call his name as she lost herself in the throws of her orgasm. His response was almost immediate, his head fell back as he thrust into her a final time, until he stilled, emptying himself inside of her.

He rolled onto his back, taking her with him so that she lay sprawled across him, exhausted, and a bit overwhelmed by the evening's events.

He was gently threading his fingers through her hair. It was a while before he spoke.

"Tell me about your daughter, how old is she?"

Andrea smiled, her head resting on his chest. "She's six. Her name is Sophia, she's funny, she makes me laugh. She's very independent. She like playing football but she likes to play with dolls too. She reads a lot. She's very bright."

She realised she was babbling, he couldn't possibly be interested in any of this. Abruptly she stopped talking, but when she looked up at him he seemed interested, attentive.

"Where is her father?" He asked gently.

She'd wondered how long it would take until that subject rose its unwelcome head. She slid off of his chest and rolled onto her front, propping her chin up on her hands and with a sigh she began to talk, to tell him the story of Sophia's father.