“And how do you feel about being the head of the Village? And thus, the head of the family?” The words seem surreal as I speak them. He’s unfazed.
He shrugs, taking another bite of the salad. “Fine. It’s no different from running the Parish. I’m honored to take it on. Being back—in some ways, it’s like I never left.”
“But now Carter and John are leaving for the Parish tomorrow. Who knows how soon Bronson will leave? That leaves your second and third open. Who will take those positions?”
His eyes meet mine. He asks, “Do you remember Dante?”
“The man from the boat?” The massive dude with the black tee, shaved head, and green eyes. Hard to forget.
“Yes. That’s him. He’s eager to join us. He’ll be my number three. Adrianna’s been missing me and I think she’s going to travel over with him. She’ll take Sasha and Carter’s house, Dante will take Mary and John’s.”
“But if Dante’s your number three, who’ll be your number two?” I flip through the men of the Brotherhood, trying to guess before he answers.
His gaze rises to meet mine. He says, “You.”
My mind stops spinning. He must be kidding. I smile. “You’re joking.”
“Do I ever kid about business?”
He doesn’t. I say, “Me?”
He looks at me as if I’m crazy to question him. As if it’s the most logical decision in the world. He wipes his hands on the napkin, takes a swig of iced tea. “Yes. You.”
“I... but... I’m a woman.”
He shrugs. “I think that makes you all the more qualified. We could use your perspective. Management is a little cock heavy at the moment.”
“But I thought... I mean—everything the Village has been built on is the idea of women being protected, submissive—”
He winks at me. “You’ll still submit to me, sweetheart. In our relationship and in the bedroom. But in business, I already view you as an equal. You’ve been running the numbers for this Village over seven years and there isn’t a man in this family who can keep up with your math skills. You’re brilliant, strong, a hard worker. Devoted to the family, loyal to the Village. You’d be a wonderful addition to the team.”
“What about the Brotherhood? The secrets, the initiation?”
“None of that will change. You’ll still be protected; you won’t be privy to certain information for the sake of your safety. But you will be let in on the inner circle in most things business. Your advice sought on all financial decisions concerning the family. You still get to be a cherished woman. But a boss at the same time.”
“It’s a lot to take in. Everyone leaving. Your moving up. Me being the first woman in the hierarchy...” But as I say it, I realize it’s not nerves or doubt that’s churning my stomach.
It’s excitement.
I was born for this life. I was born for the Village. And I want to live my life working by Rockland’s side.
And so I say, “I accept.”
He smiles. Leans over the table and kisses me. Says, “Good girl. But before we get to work, we have one matter to discuss.” From his breast pocket he pulls the silver bullet. The one I’ve forgotten even existed. He twirls it in front of me and it flashes in the light. The T stares at me.
My brow knits in confusion. “Why—why would we need that?”
“Bronson’s orders.”
“What? Why? What have I done?” Heat creeps from the center of my chest to my face.
“Paige broke a pretty serious rule. And apparently some of the Beauties were in on it and didn’t say anything. She’s pregnant so he won’t spank her. But she’ll be wearing her little bullet to the goodbye party. And so will you. And every other Beauty in the Village. As a reminder of the hierarchy and the rules of the Brotherhood.”
“But that’s not fair—I’ve done nothing wrong!”
“Dear Tessie. You can always, always use a reminder of your submission to me. Especially with us working together in the near future.”
My eyes widen, taking in that... thing. My bottom hole clenches beneath me and I scoot my chair back to create some distance between me and the bullet. “We’re all going to be plugged during the party?”
“Not just the party. All day. Starting now. Oh, and seeing as the goodbye party now involves Bronson and Paige, it’s been moved from the Village to the Hamlet. You’ll have a nice long car ride to enjoy this little beauty.” He rises from his seat and I begin to panic. He says, “Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”
I’m up, out of my chair and running toward the back door in two seconds flat. I fling it open and as I run toward freedom, there’s a flash of purple to my right and then a bump. I’m on the ground with a squeal. When I gather myself and look to what I’ve run into, I’m greeted with a wild-eyed Mary.
“I hate the plug,” she says between gritted teeth. She looks to her right and left, ready to spring forward in whatever direction John is not. Before she can get up off the ground, there’s a huge hand lifting her up by her arm.
John speaks through clenched teeth. “Now, Mary. We’ve been over this before.”
“Just getting some fresh air, dear,” she says with a nervous laugh. Over her shoulder she throws me a look of apology. John makes a tsk-tsk noise as he escorts Mary toward their house.
I stand, contemplating my situation and brushing off the seat of my pants. Then I turn around and bump into something else. This time it’s the rock-solid wall of chest muscles that is Rockland.
My gaze rises to meet his and I swallow hard, my heart picking up a beat in my chest.
He’s furious.
“I, ah... just needed a little fresh air,” I say, stealing Mary’s line. I paste what I hope is a cute smile on my face and shrug innocently.
“Upstairs. Now. And there best not be a stitch of clothing on you when I get there.”
Damn.
Nerves twist in my stomach. Is there any way out of this? Obviously, Rockland does not have a soft spot in his heart for runaways.
“I’m sorry—I’ve just never had the plug before. I’m nervous.”
“You could have communicated that instead of running away. We could have talked it out before it happened.”
“Let’s do that now,” I beg. His hand is wrapped around my upper arm, tugging me back to the house.
“Too late. I went easy on you the first time you ran off on me. But then I was just taking my part in the hierarchy. Now we are in a relationship. You wear my sword around your neck. And you are going to find out what that means. Now not another word. Get yourself upstairs.”
Unconsciously, my hands go to my bottom, covering it as I walk. A ball of ice forms in my stomach. What will it be like to have that thing in my ass? What will he do to me in addition for running away? And—will I be able to sit down at this goodbye party?
Slowly, my feet like lead, I trudge up the three flights of stairs to the bedroom. I peel my cashmere sweater from my chest. Toss it on the dresser. Unsnap my bra. Throw that over the sweater. Shimmy out of my jeans. No panties to remove. The last time I wore a pair was on my little escapade to the Parish.
Should I sit on the bed? Pose by the bed? Stand in a sexy manner that will make him forget my running away?
I’m still standing by the bed, biting my nails and trying to decide when I hear heavy footsteps treading on the stairs.
A light perspiration dots up underneath my arms. I shift my weight from one foot to the other. I cross my arms over my breasts. My peaked nipples press against my forearms.
The door opens. His gaze appraises me. “Good girl. I thought you’d have climbed out the window by now.”
Then I see the bullet between his fingers and consider his comment. I could make it...
He sees me glance toward the curtains and a deep chuckle rises from his chest. “Don’t even think about it.”
I gulp. Shirk away from him as he heads toward me. Bump into the dresser behind me. He’s inches from me now. His arms wrap around me. There’
s a dangerous air about him as he leans down, lightly kissing my lips. His mouth hovers by my ear. “Tess, what are we going to do with you?”
“Let me go?” I helpfully suggest.
“Not a chance.”
I gasp as his fingertips dig into my ass cheeks, making me stand on tiptoe. He presses me toward him, pulling me to the bed. He tosses me down. I sit before him, my eyes locked on that shiny plug he’s rolling in his hands.
“Turn and bend over the bed. Legs spread.”
A whine rises in the back of my throat, but I comply. I lie on the bed. My bottom bare and angled toward him. My legs spread. My breasts and tender nipples pressing into the covers. My eyes squeeze shut tightly as I hear the cap of what I assume is a tube of lube.
“Further,” he says.
“It’s just not fair! I didn’t doooooo anything!”
There’s a sharp smack on my bottom. The sting makes my breath catch but it’s not enough to stop my protests. “I had absolutely nothing to do with Paige’s harebrained scheme to hatch a child and had she asked me as much as my opinion I would have told her so. Please, Rockland, be reasonable!”
“I’m the picture of reason. The Sisterhood hides something and so the Brotherhood must punish you collectively. Your woman tries to run away from said punishment, so after plugging her you give her ass a good hard strapping. Let me ask you a question—if you did know what Beauties were involved, or had gotten wind of Paige’s plan... would you tell me?”
Sweat pricks at my brow. He’s referring to the pact. The one we Beauties made with one another. The one that says with exception of threat of death, we never, ever rat one another out. Ever. The pact I thought was secret. The pact that’s never been broken.
“Can’t get anything by you,” I murmur. I know if I could see his face there’d be a cocky smirk on it.
“The sooner you learn that, the better, princess. Now what do I do with a naughty little girl who runs from her plug?” As he speaks, I feel the warmth of his body leaning over me. His fingertips caress the soft skin on the inside of my thighs, pushing my legs even further apart until my skin is stretched. The cold tip of the plug is hovering at the entrance of my trembling pussy. He thrusts it in and I gasp at the shock of the cold metal. “A little extra lube never hurts and you’re soaking wet.” He pumps it once and my fingernails dig into the bedspread. There’s a stinging burning pain to the pleasure and I bite my lower lip. My hips start to move, my pelvis wanting relief from the tension building in my core. The bullet’s pulled back out and I squirm again, disappointed by the emptiness I feel.
There’s pressure, crawling invading fingertips traveling up the crack in my ass. Straight into that taboo place he’s taken me once before. For whatever reason, having a foreign object, in lieu of his cock, pressed into me is humiliating. Degrading. Shameful. And has my pussy an absolutely pulsing, dripping mess. My nipples are tight little bullets pressed into the covers. He’s got that cold, wet tip pushing against my unwilling muscles, forcing its way inside of me. He whispers the word relax, and despite his anger at my earlier actions, his hand is softly stroking my back. I breathe deeply and will the tension to leave my body. There’s a push and a tug and a push. Stretching and burning and longing and yearning. My womb throbs. My breasts are suddenly heavy. My pussy continues to pulse and clench as blood flows to my already swollen clit.
This—intrusion—has my breath coming in hard gasps. My skin flushed. Perspiration rises on my flesh, already dotted with chill bumps.
I let out a long, low moan. And it’s all the way in.
“There’s my princess. I knew your body would respond this way. You always were such an anal gal.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You enjoy the pleasures of the flesh—particularly the flesh surrounding and within your bottom. Perhaps you carry your tension here—” he gives the plug a shove, then a twist and I lose my breath for a second, “and you find it a relief to have it played with. Though I’m afraid as much as you are enjoying insertion, you will eventually find this type of punishment maddening.”
I want to move my hips, clench my cheeks, and wrap the walls of my bottom tighter around the plug. I want his cock inside of me, banging me into oblivion over this bed. I tell him so, crooning, “Please, can you fuck me with this thing in? It would feel so, so good.”
“Sure.” Elations travels through me at his response, then he finishes his thought. “I would if you had been a good girl and taken your punishment like you knew you should. Had you been the submissive woman I know you can be,” his hand travels around my thigh, his finger teasing my begging clit, “I’d be inside of you right now. Giving you the pleasure you so crave.” His hand is gone and I’m left panting and begging. “Instead, I’ve got a very naughty girl on my hands who needs to be taught a lesson in obedience.”
His hand comes down in a sharp slap on my bottom and I cry out. “Ow! Wha-what are you going to do to me?”
My tummy tightens as I hear his belt unbuckling. “Let’s start with a few stripes on that pretty ass.”
“Nooooo!” I cry. And as I protest, another gush of my arousal pools between my legs. My bare breasts are heavy against the bed, my nipples tight and hard against the covers. The cool air rushes between my legs, caressing the wetness between my thighs. I lie completely naked, every inch of my bare body exposed to him, legs spread, pussy and plugged ass on display, feeling his gaze on me... waiting for the sting of the leather. My senses are overwhelmed, my flesh dotting with chill bumps. My teeth sink into my bottom lip as I try to breathe.
The leather swishes through the air, coming down in a loud snap that makes me jump. The sting travels quickly, a line of fire over my ass. My cheeks clench upon impact and that serves to press the plug tighter in my ass. The belt comes down again, a few inches lower. My ass clenches again, the plug suddenly huge. My pussy drips.
“This is no good.”
“Wha-what do you mean?” I ask, holding my hips from squirming back and forth, wagging my ass in the air and begging for another delicious stripe.
“I think the young lady is enjoying her punishment a bit. Too. Much.”
“Nooooo!”
“Yes. I’m afraid I’ll have to find another way to teach you a lesson.”
“What will you do to me?” Oh, big, strong man. Spank me and fuck me and teach me a lesson with your massive cock. Put it in my...
He says, “I think I’m just going to enjoy the sight of your beautiful plugged ass while I decide what to do with you. Get yourself into a corner of this room. Now.”
As fast as I can, I stand. But as my legs join together, there’s an incredible fullness in my bottom that makes me groan. I press my cheeks together and walk, shamed and penguin-like to an empty corner of the room. I give him a pitiful glance over my shoulder.
He stands, arms crossed over his chest. Jaw locked tight beneath the beard. He gives a shake of his head that makes me turn around and scurry to my position. I stand, nose pointed toward the corner, my face burning in humiliation.
“Press your legs together.” I do as he asks, my thighs touching, my butt cheeks enveloping the plug. I whimper as my muscles clench around it. My pussy tightens, pulsing tighter and tighter at my wanting. “Hands behind your head.” I comply and my breasts stand at attention, my hard nipples like arrows.
I sense him standing behind me. Gazing at my bare, naked body. Seeing a glimpse of the silver handle between the cheeks of my ass that wear his angry red handprint, the marks of his belt. He steps closer, murmuring, “Such a beauty.”
His fingers trail up my back. Sending shivers and tingles down my spine. His mouth is on my neck, biting and sucking. My hands want to go to him. To touch his soft hair. But they remain, fingers locked together tightly, behind my head.
He’s touching my neck, my clavicle. Cupping my breasts. I suck in my breath, hard, as he takes a nipple between his fingers and pinches. “I think I know what to do with you now. Touch your body.
Spank your bottom. All while plugged. Letting your desire build. Leaving you hot and bothered. With no relief in sight.”
“Huh? What?” I process his words, disappointment heavy in my belly.
“That will be your punishment.”
“You mean, you are going to tease me mercilessly and just leave me—perpetually horny?”
“Yes.”
“I’d rather have the belt.”
“No.”
“Well, what about a paddle? You got one of those lying around here?” I shift my weight, my full, burning, aching ass and my throbbing pussy screaming for me to do something already.
“No.”
“Can I write sentences? Be grounded? Clean the kitchen? Anything other than that! Please.”
“No, princess.”
A whine escapes my throat. “Pretty please, Rockland. Can’t you just forgive my little runaway escapade? Wouldn’t it be so nice to just lay me down on the bed and fuck me? Come on. I know you want to.” I give a sexy little wiggle of my ass that earns me nothing but a hard slap that sends me up on tiptoe.
Wordlessly he leaves me. I hear the creak of the bedframe as he takes a seat. “Come here, Tess.”
I lower my hands to my sides. Turn around, my bare breasts and pussy fully exposed to his gaze. I tiptoe across the carpet to him, breasts bouncing. He pats his thigh. “Over you go.”
I give him a wide-eyed vixen look, then slowly crawl over his lap, trying to look as sexy as possible. I say, “Oh, Rockland. I’ve been such a naughty, naughty girl. Please spank me.” Curve my waist, stick my ass up high and wiggle it teasingly.
“I know what you’re trying to do, princess. And you know me well enough to know I have more self-control in my little finger than you do in your entire body. You will not be getting me to fuck you. Quite the opposite. You will spend your entire day begging me to fuck you while your yoni cries sweet tears of your frustrated arousal.” To prove his point, he begins to stroke and pat every inch of the tops of my thighs and bottom.
Rockland: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Page 16