This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller Read Free Page A

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    Catching her scrutinising him, his smile became a grin, a cheeky grin. There was a message in his eyes, she was sure of it: hurry up and finish that drink, let’s go upstairs .
    Much to the bemusement of the receptionist, she downed it in one, no longer feeling dour but sexy, and eager too, more so than she had in months, longer even.
    The bubbles must have gone to her head. A few minutes later, when they were alone in the lift, she couldn’t resist grinding her body against his. Rob’s response was immediate. When they reached number 201, he opened the door and they practically fell into the room, their hands still busy exploring. Her eyes on him rather than the plushness of their surroundings, she dragged him towards the double bed and pushed him onto it before climbing swiftly on top. Meanwhile, he tugged at her jeans, fumbling with her belt.
    “I can’t undo the damned thing,” he complained.
    She batted his hands away. “Here, let me.”
    Standing again, she swiftly removed her jeans and jacket, indicating for him to copy her. He readily complied; clearly impressed with the way she was behaving. Semi-naked, she pulled him back onto the bed, taking the lead, riding him. In control of everything except her emotions, but this time wanting to give free rein to them. It felt good, so damned good, riding that wave, all the way to the top, higher and higher, further than she’d ridden it before. When she reached the summit, her cries of pleasure seemed to be torn from her. Rob couldn’t help himself either. Despite being in a hotel room, his cries were loud too – guttural. Afterwards, she collapsed by him, her breathing as ragged as his.
    “Bloody hell!” Rob said, when he was able to. “I should whisk you away more often.”
    Louise took in his bemused expression. “I think it’s me who brought you to Venice. You kept putting it off remember, and all because of that coffee.”
    “That damned coffee! Look what it’s deprived me of all these years.”
    “Don’t worry, we can make up for lost time.”
    “I hope so, but in a while perhaps. Once the little fella’s had time to recover.”
    Seized by a new desire, Louise tapped him playfully on the stomach. “Nope, come on,” she said, pushing herself away from him and rising to her feet. “It’s getting late, it’s nearly seven. I want to go and explore.” In fact, she was almost as rabid about that as she’d been about seducing him. Rabid? She paused. What an odd way to describe it! But it was also apt. “Do you know what, I’m foaming at the mouth to get out there.”
    “Foaming at the mouth? Sweetie, how vulgar.”
    Retrieving her knickers from the floor, she threw them at him.
    “If you don’t want to put me to the test, move your lazy arse.”
    Artfully, he dodged them. “Me lazy? You cheeky cow.” Pushing himself off the bed too, he chased her towards the bathroom, both of them shedding more clothes en route. In there, he trapped her against the doors of a very swanky shower, the cool of the glass a welcome contrast to the heat of his penis, which throbbed at the front of her. Clearly the ‘little fella’ had more than recovered. As Rob leant inwards to nuzzle her neck, she willingly succumbed – just one more time and she’d let him take the lead. She suspected Venice, like so many cities, never really slept; they had hours to explore, there was no need to panic.
    “I’ll show you who’s lazy,” he murmured, his kisses showering her rather than the water.
     
     

Chapter Three
     
    It was gone eight by the time they made it out. The rain might have stopped but it was still wet, the damp in the air compounded by the water lapping at the sides of the embankment. A city built on water; it was, as Dickens described it, dreamlike.
    Outside the hotel, in the Grand Canal, were several gondola mooring posts – red and white striped like giant candy canes and nothing less than iconic. Louise insisted Rob pose for a photo in