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He beams, the first positive expression I’ve seen him wear since we first busted my door down. “Thank you, Clara. I’m glad it’s to your liking.”
The doors open for Cosimo before we even reach it, and a tired but well dressed housekeeper bows as we walk past her.
“Welcome home, Mr. Giordano. Is this…?”
“Yes, this is Clara Eldrige, the woman I told you about earlier. Please prepare a room for her, Rosa. She’ll be occupied with me for an hour or so, so make sure to have it done before then.”
The housekeeper curtsies and disappears around a corner, presumably to go prepare my room. But something that Cosimo just told the woman is causing alarm bells to go off in my head.
“What did you mean I’d be occupied with you for the next hour?” I ask, afraid that I already know the answer.
My instincts are right, and when he takes my hand once more, my thundering pulse distracts me from that lovely little buzz that I feel whenever I touch him. “We discussed this already, Clara. You weren’t to open the door, and you disobeyed me. I’ve tried to be kind to you, but I can’t take care of you or protect you if you can’t follow simple directions, so now you have to face your punishment.”
I try to pull back from him, shaking my head rapidly. “No way. Take me back to my villa. I’ll call the police myself and deal with all this.”
“I’ve already dealt with it, Clara,” Cosimo’s tone is growing cold, and it makes my pulse kick up even faster. His grip on my wrist is like iron, and I have no choice but to follow him as he takes me down a long hallway. “Now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions. Don’t forget, you agreed to this.”
The hallway is dark, our steps echoing off the marble floors as we go. I’m not so much struggling anymore as I am putting my weight into pulling away from him. With a curse under his breath, Cosimo stops and drops my wrist, looking at me through narrowed eyes.
“Fine, Clara, go. But then we will be calling your father’s debt in now, and there will be no second chances. Is that what you want?”
I falter in turning around to leave. His words strike me like an arrow, and the inevitability of it all settles on my shoulders. Defeated, I turn my body around once more to face Cosimo, and let my eyes fall to the floor. “Okay. You win. Let’s go.”
“I knew you were a good girl,” he rumbles, this time taking my hand tenderly, weaving our fingers together.
I’ve been so scared for so long now, first at Cosimo, then Mel’s boyfriend’s companions, and now Cosimo again, that I’m emotionally drained. I should be more upset about what’s about to happen, but I’m just resigned. Maybe afterwards I’ll finally be able to rest.
We reach his bedroom, and Cosimo pushes open a dark wooden door to reveal the most private part of his home to me. I’m surprised, when he flicks on a set of dim lights that give off a soft yellow glow, at how attractive the bedroom is. I can see an ensuite bathroom and just the corner of an enormous sunken bathtub, the entire space done in clean whites and grays. The bedroom itself, though, was all the different colors of a deep forest. Shades of oak and evergreen melded together to create a space that was both masculine but comforting. The tall bed, with its rectangular headboard with recessed lighting, is covered with bedding that is black on black, but the blankets are tangled up from how quickly he must have jumped out of bed to come to my aid when I tried to call him just as Luigi and Serg forced themselves inside. It makes my heart soften somewhat, to see how frantic he was to get to me. Cosimo Giordano is turning out to be a very complicated person.
I notice that he's watching me as I examine his bedroom, eyelids low, his powerful body relaxed and giving me time to calm down before moving to the next step. For all his bravado, he seems hesitant and not sure what to do next. I have the thought that had we met in a different way, that maybe our connection would have started out as romantic instead of contractual, but that just isn’t my reality. It’s hard not to look at him and fall into those deep brown eyes, though, and linger on the thoughts of how much even his brief touches affect me.
And…oh, God. He’s about to touch my ass. He’s about to spank me! If just hand holding caused a reaction, what would my traitorous body do when his hands were on those much more sensitive parts? Fear is starting to rise in me again like a whirlwind.
I watch Cosimo walk to his bed and sit on the edge of it, finding him almost impossibly handsome with his dark stubble and hair hanging over his forehead. “Come here, Clara,” he says quietly, patting the mattress next to him. With unsteady legs, I pad over to him, belatedly realizing that I’ve been barefoot the entire time. I’m just in my pajamas–soft petal pink shorts and matching baggy t-shirt–with no undergarments to speak of, but for whatever reason, my bare feet are what is most embarrassing to me.
The mattress is so tall I have to do a little hop to perch next to him, my feet swinging in the air once I’m fully up. I can feel the heat radiating off him already, and I want to move closer, like a moth to a flame. His gaze is dark, growing more hooded as he also finally absorbs my lack of appropriate clothing, but I’m pretty sure his opinion of it is positive. Unable to resist, I scoot closer, wanting some of that tantalizing warmth.
Cosimo starts to touch me now, first brushing my hair away from my face, running his thumb over my cheek, and then in the lightest caress, over my bottom lip. I gasp when he does, and when his thumb retreats, I unconsciously lick the spot where it had just been. He lets out a shuddering breath.
“I will make you a deal. For one kiss, I’ll cut your punishment in half. I’ll only spank your perfect little ass five times instead of ten. What do you think?”
His dirty words make me feel odd, and I squirm in place. It seems wrong to kiss this man that wants to do harm to my father, but… I’m intrigued. I’ve been so sheltered my entire life that I’ve only kissed two people before. One a clumsy boy my freshman year, and the second a brief goodnight kiss after a failed date last year. I try not to think too much about my virginity now, because put next to the fact that I’m about to be spanked, it seems like an impossibly silly thing. But Cosimo does have such a nice mouth, even if he is always frowning, and a kiss from him might even be nice. All of his touches have been soft so far, right?
“Okay,” I breathe into the silent room.
He doesn’t give me any time to think of an objection or ask to work out the terms of our new agreement. Cosimo just takes my chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting my face up and slanting his mouth over mine in one smooth movement. I have one brief thought before my need for him rushes up and burns any other rational thoughts away; This isn’t a kiss, it’s a claiming.
The second his lips touch mine I know one thing for certain: I actually haven’t ever been kissed before, because kissing Cosimo is such a vastly different experience from anything else I’ve ever done in my life, that nothing can hold a handle. I feel the press of his lips briefly before his grip on my chin shifts to hold my jaw, coaxing it open so his tongue, hot and demanding can sweep inside my mouth like he has every right to be there. It feels so good as it slides across mine, though, that there is no way I could protest. It’s an entire experience all condensed down to this whole kiss… Cosimo sucks my bottom lip between his teeth before deepening the kiss once more, and if I hadn’t been rendered thoughtless by the way his mouth is moving on mine, I might have been embarrassed by the satisfied noise I make when he does so. Even the roughness of his stubble on my cheeks adds to shivery, indulgent bliss his kiss is invoking in me.
It ends much too fast. Cosimo closes the kiss out with a small peck on the corner of my mouth, but when he pulls away fully I notice that I’m nearly in his lap now, my arms looped around his neck with my need to touch him. He doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the smug smile on his handsome face is anything to go by.
“You taste so good, lovely Clara, but I’m afraid that I can’t kiss you anymore if I have any hope of following through with my plans. Now, lay across my lap, and we’ll get this over with.”
A cold spear of apprehension cuts through the dreamy warmth of lust I’m experiencing. “We don’t have to. We could just kiss some more, or–”
He places a finger on my kiss-swollen lips and shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. Now, do as you're told, and everything will be alright.”
Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I crawl into his lap, and he positions me so I’m ass-up right in the center of it. I can feel a hard, insistent bar right beneath my core, and once I make the connection and figure out that that bar actually is, the wave of wanting that takes me over is overwhelming. He’s hard for me, just over one kiss, and I’m about to be pantless right on top of his boner! My pussy is going to be separated from his member only by his sweatpants. Oh, my God…
