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She sucks in a breath and I spank her hard again. She moans, gasping in pain, and I spank her a third time. After a fourth, I spread her ass and find her pussy, fingers teasing her dripping folds from behind. God, she’s wet, and yes, she likes this spanking, she likes it enough to wiggle her hips as my fingers slide inside and tease her like she’s daring me to hit her again.
Another hard whack followed by another. She’s turning pink and red and arching her back, giving me an unobstructed path. I roll around her clit and feel her heart racing against my thighs as she pants and moans into a pillow. She bites it hard when I spank her again, followed by more pleasure, back and forth, spank and tease, spank and tease, fingers fucking her and rubbing against her clit, palm cracking against her smooth, beautiful ass.
It’s glorious, making her submit. It’s glorious making her moan and tremble as she takes her punishment. “You’re such a good girl, Olivia,” I say and I mean it, she is good, a lovely girl who means well. But lovely girls can fuck up sometimes. I spank her again before sinking my fingers deep.
The mix of pleasure and pain short-circuits her brain. Soon the receptors for one or the other will tangle, and she won’t know if it hurts or feels good, and that’s the goal. Spank, tease, spank, tease: I draw her along on a string, bringing her closer and closer, my fingers dripping wet with her juices, her ass shining and bright red from my rough palm.
“So close,” I whisper and bend forward to kiss her neck. “You’re so close, Olivia. You’re dripping onto my lap now.”
“I don’t know if I’m in agony or ecstasy,” she says, half-laughing, half-moaning. “Fuck Casso, this is driving me insane. I don’t know how much more I can take.”
“You want a release. You want to come for me, don’t you?”
“Please,” she whispers. “I need it.”
“Will you obey? Will you be good, like I need you to be?”
“I’ll try. I promise I’ll try.”
I spank her three times, harder than the last, and she throws her head back as I slide my fingers deep and find her G-spot. I fuck her like that, curling my fingers, faster and faster, taking her to the edge and well past it. She comes, squirming and writhing in my lap as my fingers do their work, driving her wild, making her cheeks flush and her body tense and all the muscles in her spine tighten. She’s beautiful and wild and free and as she comes like an atom bomb in my lap, I already know I’ll never be able to get this moment from my mind. It’s burned into me, this beautiful girl coming.
And as it slowly finishes, I realize with a painful clarity that she’s never going to let the issue of her brother drop.
How could she? If I were her, I wouldn’t. Manuel is her flesh and blood, and now she has just enough information to keep digging. She’s so close to finding out who actually killed her brother, to who planted that bomb, so why stop now? I can spank her all I want and it won’t make a difference.
Melancholy takes me as I pull her up and hold her tight against my chest. “Good girl,” I whisper, while knowing that she won’t stay one, because she can’t possibly. I brush her hair back and kiss her, and she looks up at me with orgasm-foggy eyes and a big smile on her face, and my heart swells a thousand times larger trying to contain the feelings I have for her, but even that’s not enough.
Chapter 21
Olivia
My butt is sore and bruised the next morning. I twist and look at myself in the mirror and marvel at the handprint, the finger-shaped bruises, the swelling.
I can still feel the aftereffects of that spanking: how the pleasure melted into the pain until it was all one sensation buzzing along my skin, rolling like a stream train and flattening all my defenses. It was one of the best orgasms of my life, one of the most intense moments of my life, and it feels like it was all one big lie.
He knew it and I knew it, but neither of us could admit it out loud.
I can’t let this go. I feel like I’m so close to putting it all together, and if only I could get that one step further, I might be able to understand why Danil’s father was involved, why my brother was there, why there was a bomb. Danil isn’t going away, and my brother’s death isn’t going to change, and Fynn may or may not wake up from that coma. But I can’t stop.
Casso listened to his family and stayed home yesterday. He texted Karah for constant updates—no change at all—while tending to the family. Men came and went, offering their condolences, checking up on the Don. Casso put on a good show, a brave face, a united front. Nico and Gavino remained to help him deal with the Capos and the lieutenants and all the business organizers that wanted to make sure the Famiglia was still strong.
