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To have someone laugh at my jokes and tease me. Someone to spar with who’s witty and intelligent but not all stuffy about it. If I didn’t have keen powers of observation myself, I might think Mario was no more than a pretty face, but I know better.
I watched the skilled way he navigated his laptop to zone in on my apartment, set his drones to follow my workplace, and expertly arranged for a closer investigation into every area of my life where I might be vulnerable or threatened. He fielded calls from his brothers, ordered food and drinks with the suave elegance and grace of a master. When I asked him who Grady might be working for, he pulled up a detailed, encrypted spreadsheet that showed every possible connection between a dirty cop and a mob in New England.
“We’ve got some working for us,” he says. I’m not surprised. “And no, I won’t tell you who or where. I can’t reveal highly confidential information without reason.”
I nod. Understandable. And I figured as much anyway.
“Do you really think Grady has anything to do with one of them?”
“I have it on good authority Grady’s in someone’s pocket, yeah, and the sooner we know who, the better.”
“I see.” I swallow hard. I don’t like knowing that he’s got power over me.
“There’s… well, we could find out pretty easily if he really wants to hurt me, though, couldn’t we?”
Mario narrows his eyes, and his voice holds an unmistakable note of warning. “Emma.”
“Well, he doesn’t know I’m here, does he? I could go into work as if nothing’s happened. You could send protection with me, and if anything goes haywire—”
“Which it will because he had your apartment trashed.”
“—you get me out of there and we follow the lead we generated.”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I cross my arms. “Why not?”
“Because I said so.”
“Because you said so, like you’re my goddamn—”
“Daddy?” he finishes in a low, warning tone. “Absolutely, baby.”
Why does it make me shiver when he says that?
“Fine.”
“Not fine.” He’s sitting casually in a desk chair, his laptop on his knee. He slides it onto the desk and beckons for me to come over. “Come here.”
Why does my body respond so eagerly to his command? With one little crook of his finger, my pulse accelerates and I’m so primed to respond to his dominant ways that my pussy clenches of its own accord. And it’s only been a few days with him. He spins that magical web of his, like a sorcerer with a magic wand. A casual flick of his wrist, and I’m his to command.
I walk over to him and stand between his knees. His blue, blue eyes focus on me as he brings his huge, massive, perfect hands to my ass and squeezes both cheeks. “You’ll watch your tone of voice with me,” he says in a low, warning voice. “Won’t you, doll?”
I swallow hard. “Yes, Daddy.”
A slow nod makes my nipples furl. The command in his voice and warning at his hands, that I’m his to play with, as pliable as warmed toffee, makes me swallow hard and wish for more…more anything. Kisses. Hugs. Caresses. Touches.
Sex.
“When I tell you what to do, you’ll obey me. When we leave this room, you’ll be on your best behavior. I told you my family has a code, and I told you that at the pinnacle of that code is obedience to those in charge of your safety and well-being.”
“Does that… apply to everyone?”
“Everyone. All of my sisters and brothers are under Romeo’s command. The men of the house make the decisions, but we also take full responsibility for everyone here.”
“And what if someone disobeys a command?”
A casual shrug. “Punishment.”
“Even if it’s one of the god-like men?”
“Ah ah, baby. We’re not tossing around words like that about my brothers.”
I roll my eyes, knowing I’m treading on thin ice, and this probably isn’t the best way to handle this current situation anyway. “I just mean you all sit on Mount Olympus issuing decrees.”
“I know what you mean, and it’s still disrespectful.” He sobers, crossing his arms on his chest. God, he knows exactly what he’s doing, because my body begins to respond to the warning clangs of his authority.
“Alright, then,” I say, slightly subdued. Trying to keep my voice calm so I don’t get myself in trouble or whatever the fuck they call it. “What kind of punishments are there, then?”
“For you, a good spanking,” he says as casually as he might say cream and sugar in my coffee. “And I don’t mean just a few love pats that make you climax over my knee. Could be my belt, or something more hardcore, like a cane or a stout whip. You might have noticed I’m experienced wielding those things.” I feel my eyes go wide. “And did you notice the methods of restraint we have in the wine cellar? It’s near the dungeon.”
