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I knew monsters like him: men who got off on holding power over weaker women.
“You’re a brute,” I hissed, hating him with every fiber of my being.
Three more stinging swats, and my bottom was on fire. I howled and kicked out, my heels banging against the car door. He didn’t relent. Heat flared beneath his calloused palm, thrumming deep into my flesh. It made something ache deep inside me, a strange throb that echoed each slap.
My cry morphed into a mortified gasp. Some part of my mind registered what that feeling was: arousal. My panties grew damp, and my cheeks burned more hotly than my skin beneath his punitive hand.
This couldn’t be happening. My stupid crush on Luca had clearly scrambled my brain, making me react to his touch. It hurt. And it felt good in the most forbidden, cruel way.
The hits stopped, and he rubbed his palm over my enflamed flesh. A sound like a humiliating whimper eased from my throat, and I pressed my face into the seat as though I could hide from him. The scent of leather flooded my senses, but it didn’t quite drown out the smell of my traitorous arousal in the tight space of the car.
Oh, god.We weren’t alone in here. There were two men in the front seats. They might not be looking at me, but they’d witnessed the mortifying scene; they’d heard Luca disciplining me like a child.
Thick fingers skimmed over my stinging skin, and the gentle sensation was almost unbearably decadent after the pain of the spanking. I bit my lip against a groan of relief and turned my cheek farther into the seat, wishing I could melt away into nothing.
“We could get along, Elenora.” This time, there was a deep rumble of satisfaction in Luca’s voice.
His fingers dipped between my legs, the barest brush against my wet underwear. I couldn’t help myself; I bucked against his hand, too shocked and confused to control my body. He’d taken control of my entire being, and I felt like I was spiraling into a black abyss. I clung on to sanity by a thread.
“Please,” I begged. “Stop.”
“Are you going to behave?” he asked, voice deep and dark with warning.
“Yes,” I squeaked, swallowing a sob. I wouldn’t cry. Not for him. If I stopped resisting, he couldn’t break me completely. I would comply with his insane demands. It was the only way I could survive this day with some of my dignity intact.
Drawing on years of practice, I shoved my emotions down deep, crushing my pain, humiliation, and fury into a tight little ball and burying it in the pit of my stomach. I drew in a deep breath and softened in his unyielding hold.
I would endure. I would not let a man break me. I would comply, but I wouldn’t allow him to reduce me to a shell of myself.
Luca’s touch was almost tender as he slowly tugged my skirt back down over my thighs, his fingertips trailing along my sensitized skin. He released my wrists and grasped my waist, carefully guiding me to sit beside him. Heated pain flared on my abused bottom, and I suppressed a grimace, struggling to keep my face calm and composed. I wouldn’t let him see how thoroughly he’d rattled me.
He rested his hand on my knee, maintaining contact. Despite my desire to escape him entirely, the temptation to find comfort in that simple touch was nearly overwhelming. My eyes burned, and I blinked rapidly to clear the haze of tears before they could fall down my cheeks.
I stared out the car window, hiding my eyes from him so that he couldn’t see them shining. The world blurred past us, the result of my disorientation rather than the speed of the SUV. We’d slowed to follow normal traffic laws; Luca wouldn’t want to be pulled over and questioned about kidnapping me.
I straightened my spine. No matter what he said, I was his hostage now. In a few minutes, I would become his wife, but I would never be anything more than a captive to my new husband.
Chapter 3
Luca
My palm prickled with the remembered heat of her round ass flushing red beneath my punitive hand. I might not want to get married, but my bride was undeniably lovely. It wouldn’t be a hardship to have her in my bed.
And the way she’d become aroused by my discipline…
Yes, my wife and I would get along well. Once she learned to obey. Once she learned that I could offer her pleasure and safety. She would have no reason to resent me if I flooded her lush body with ecstasy every night.
I took a breath and suppressed the lust that’d been threatening to overwhelm me ever since I’d taken her over my knee in the car. Now wasn’t the time to ravage my pretty new wife. That could come after the ceremony and then we could seal our union.
Elenora would be mine. For the rest of our lives. Neither of us had a choice.
A pulse of rage seared my veins, burning away some of my arousal. Dante had tried to steal my birthright from me, so I’d been forced to steal his bride. His alliance with Giuseppe Ricci wouldn’t go forward. I would’ve preferred to kill them both,but I wouldn’t start a war. Too many of our men respected Giuseppe, my father’s most trusted advisor. I wouldn’t tear apart my organization before I even took control. My father was on his deathbed, and the Russians were already circling like vultures, waiting to pick away at our territory if we showed any signs of weakness.
So, I found myself in this clusterfuck of a situation: forced into marriage years before I would’ve considered taking a bride. I’d always known I would have to secure my legacy one day, but that’d been at least a decade in the future. I was barely twenty-eight; too young to be shackled to one woman.
I gritted my teeth and glanced over at Elenora. Her cheeks were pale and her posture was stiff, but she was still beautiful: willowy and graceful, with a lush mouth that begged for a kiss.
I resented the fact that I’d never fuck another woman ever again, but I valued loyalty above everything else. During my youth, I’d watched my father cheat on my mother half a dozen times, and it’d broken her heart. She’d been so distraught that she’d turned to another man for comfort, and that choice had condemned her.
