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“Giovanni—’
“Shhh.” His thumb stroked soft circles against the side of my throat as tears pricked my eyes. With his free hand, he dragged my skirt up my legs, but an orgasm was suddenly very far from my mind.
“Please,” I whispered. I didn’t even know what I was begging for, but this position was humiliating in the worst way.
“Take your punishment, piccola. And remember it next time you think to disobey me or run away again.”
Cool air met my ass cheeks before a sharp crack rang out, followed by a sting across the back of my thigh. I cried out, more out of shock and sheer indignation than pain. He’d spanked me.
I started thrashing in his hold. “You can’t do this!”
His grip on my neck tightened before his palm landed again and again. Heat tore over my butt cheeks, rivaling the inferno that was now my face. If he sought to humiliate me, he was doing a good job. I begged and pleaded, then demanded him to stop and pleaded some more, but he didn’t quit. Blow after blow met my ass and thighs until everything hurt. A rabid kind of desperation rose in me, but it had nowhere to go, no outlet.
Finally, the part of me I clung to so hard, the part that fought and clawed and protected all my broken pieces, just crumbled. A sob of sheer despair choked me, and tears broke free as I went limp in his hold. His strikes changed, sweeping lower. Somewhere in the wreckage of my own mind, the pain numbed to something else. When I whimpered or remained still, he praised me, his fingers tracing over my pussy. And some warped corner of my mind craved his praise, his pleasure, the cruelty of his touch.
Suddenly, everything shifted, and the punishment didn’t feel so punishing. Instead of trying to get away, I was pushing back, hoping he’d touch me where I really wanted. My submission was rewarded when he yanked my underwear to the side and plunged two fingers into my pussy. My mind checked out completely, leaving me with nothing more than instinct and sensations. I bucked and moaned on his lap, and he groaned in response.
“Such a tight, wet little pussy, princess. You like being spanked.” His fingers slid in far too easily to deny it, and I was too far gone to feel the shame I normally would have. Again, Giovanni pushed me to the edge, only to back away.
I wanted to scream in frustration. I didn’t think I could hate someone this much. Of all the things he’d done to me, this was the worst.
15
Gio
My dick was rock hard, pressing against Emilia’s hip as she squirmed in my lap. My handprints branded her skin in a way I wished I could make permanent. This was supposed to be a simple case of dominating my little kitten, putting her back in her place, reminding her that she couldn’t run from me. But I was losing myself in her every bit as much as she was lost to the sweet submission she didn’t even understand.
Her perfect little pussy clamped around my fingers, trying to suck me deeper. I wanted to watch her fall apart and moan my name, preferably on my cock, but this was a punishment for her bratty ass. She’d only get my dick when she begged and gave me what I wanted. It almost hurt not to fuck her, though, so I inflicted my own suffering on her, edging her over and over until she was begging me to let her come.
“Please,” she panted, voice cracking.
The little virgin was mindless, and I would keep her like that if I had to, tasting a world of pleasure her innocent mind couldn’t even fathom before now. What she didn’t know was that as powerless as she was supposed to be over my knee like this, she actually had all the power because the way she’d fractured and submitted so beautifully was driving me insane.
I released the tie from her hands and tossed her back on the bed. Fuck, she was gorgeous, chest heaving, hair wild, mascara streaking her face. She was always pretty, but she was a fucking goddess right now. This was her rawest, most pure form. No walls existed between us then, no hatred, no claws. It was just her and me. Lust and need.
The dress that made her the image of grace earlier in the evening was now rucked up around her waist, underwear shoved aside, pink pussy on display. She was temptation personified and she didn’t even know it.
“Giovanni.”
“Gio,” I corrected her because only my enemies and my mother called me Giovanni.
“Gio.”
I groaned. My name on her lips was like a fist around my throbbing dick.
Straddling her waist, I cuffed her wrists to the bed frame the same way I had last night. She stared up at me, pupils blown and lips parted, restrained. Fuck. She was so far gone, I knew she’d probably beg me to fuck her if I told her to, but I had to control myself. She was riding the tentative line between the mental and the physical right now. Too much, too soon, and all that vulnerability, that sweet trust, would disappear. And I wanted it, more than my next breath.
