Lucrezia groaned. She liked to groan. She let the groans escape from her mouth-not that she could really have controlled them-to show her appreciation of what was being done to her.
Then with a sudden jump she felt the fingertips find her little erection. That was too much. She squirmed her hips in a movement that was almost circular, that was wild, exaggerated.
And the fingers were relentless. They pressed there, loved there, pinched there, gave no quarter although her moans became helpless sobs of passion.
Lucrezia felt her hole growing wide. The love-juice was swamping, too, and her belly was in unbearable torment. There couldn't be much more to go.
“Your mouth, your mouth!” she pleaded.
The fingers came out of her sultry cleft giving her a brief respite. But they were replaced immediately by a pair of cool lips which seized on her clitoris, sending a shock through her whole body.
“Oh, wonderful, wonderful!” she gasped. She could hardly utter the words. They tumbled out in a rush of sound which was mostly escaping breath, wheezing out like steam from a hot spring.
The mouth was working hard, giving her no chance to catch her breath. She was out of breath as if she'd been running hard.
And then the hands, remembering, slid around her hips and dug handfuls from her big buttocks, rummaging between them to find the anal orifice.
“Wonderful, wonderful!” she breathed again, lost and helpless.
She felt the heat like a great wood fire down in her passage. It was as hot as a lump of smoldering charcoal, felt ready to splinter into pieces at any moment.
“It's coming… it's… coming… oh!” she gasped, more as an outlet for her feeling than as a warning. She jerked her legs this way and that as if they were puppets and she held the strings. Speech was now impossible. The sounds from her mouth were animal noises, enlarging in abandon with every lick of that tongue on her erect little organ.
She clamped her legs around Carlotta's head and squeezed her loins up at her face, forcing, straining, arching. She felt the burst, the splintering aid site cried out, stifling her cries with her fist as the last suck drew her liquid passion through her channel.
A new and regular activity was begun in the quiet haven of the convent.
CHAPTER 12
While Lucrezia was still enjoying her quiet life in the convent, Cesare was pondering his future.
For some time now a marriage between him and Carlotta of Aragon, whom he had never seen, but of whose beauty he had heard, had been in the offing. To achieve this marriage, the Pope had been in contact with the new King of France, Louis XII, trying to enlist his support.
As was usual in these cases nothing was given for nothing, nobody gave his support if he gained nothing in return. So it was with Louis.
He chose this moment to apply to Rome for the dissolution of his marriage with Jeanne de Valois, daughter of Louis XI-an application which the Pope readily conceded to.
In the way that this sort of bargaining gathered momentum, the Pope freshly asked that Louis should confer the duchy of Valentinois on Cesare.
In this way he hoped to settle ownership of a morsel of territory in Dauphine which had long been disputed between France and the Holy See. The claims of the Church would be given up — but Cesare Borgia would be in power.
Louis granted all this in turn, asking at the same time for a cardinal's hat for an old friend of his and a dispensation to marry the beautiful widow of Charles VIII, Anne of Brittany. So the wrangling, conducted in an aura of politeness and political courtesy, came to an end.
Cesare chose this moment to crave permission to doff the purple. He had long ago been made a cardinal, but Carlotta's father, Federigo of Aragon, would not have his daughter marry a priest. Her dowry, it was known, would be enormous-and Cesare prized money and territory above all at this time.
The only cardinal to stand out against this move was Cardinal Ximenes, the Spanish representative, who saw through the move and the proposed marriage an imminent alliance between France and the Holy See-an alliance which would not be at all in the interests of Spain.
Alexander routed these objections with the unanswerable pronouncement that he could not hinder Cesare's renunciation of the purple, as such a renunciation had clearly become necessary for the salvation of his soul. To appease Spain, however, he bestowed all Cesare's yielded benefices on Spanish churchmen.
Thus it was that Cesare Borgia, Duke of Valentinois, set out for the Court of France where Carlotta of Aragon was being raised.
His suite was enormous, with one hundred attendants, a dozen chariots and a score of mules for his baggage and presents for his future hosts.
In spite of the early hour chosen for departure, Rome was packed with people fighting to catch a glimpse of the newly-created Duke and to cheer him on his journey toward his prospective wife. Cesare rode at the head of his retinue, following the Tiber along the Trastevere. He was mounted on a large white charger caparisoned in red silk and gold brocade-the colors of France. The Duke's doublet was of white damask laced with gold; a mantle of black velvet covered his shoulders, matched by a black velvet cap, studded with rubies.
Behind him his lackeys also wore the colors of France, as did his Roman gentlemen. The Spaniards in his cortege, however, retained the costumes of their native land.
The procession, hemmed in by cheering crowds, was escorted to the end of the Banchi by four cardinals. The Pope, his heart swollen with pride at the sight of his son so gorgeously arrayed, watched from a window of the Vatican.
At Ostia, the whole retinue boarded a ship, which, with a protective fleet of galleys Louis had sent to fetch the new Duke, set off for the coast of France.
Over a week later, they dropped anchor at Marseilles, where the Duke was met by the Bishop of Dijon, who had been sent by the King to meet him.
From Marseilles the glorious procession rode on to Avignon, everywhere watched by gaping crowds who broke out into cheers from the very awe of its color and royal appearance.
At Avignon, Cesare was met by Cardinal della Rovere, who was to escort him to the King's court at Chinon.
A month or so after leaving Italy, Cesare was welcomed by Louis in an atmosphere of pomp, ceremony and cordiality-a welcome he was not to receive from the lady he had come to woo.
CHAPTER 13
In spite of Cesare's good looks and strong personality, Carlotta hedged and procrastinated until it became clear to all that she was not going through with the marriage. The background reasons were, of course, political and Carlotta followed the instructions of her father's ambassador. She also displayed a certain hauteur towards the Duke of Valentinois on the few occasions when they came into contact.
The final blow came when Cesare, who was impressed by the beauty and inaccessibility of the princess, sent word telling her in the most courteous of paraphrasing that he could not wait forever in the court of France and that he failed to see what was delaying her decision.
Carlotta sent back a message saying that her family was not in the habit of being pressed- even by Italian blood of noble ancestry. This was an open slight on Cesare's foreign origin and social history which cut him to the quick. He began immediately to plan his revenge, taking into his confidence his closest attendants and companions.
