Commanding Thirst: Mafia Romance (Rough Redemption Book 2)

by Olivia Fox

  Food calmed us both down and across the table, she looked well satiated, her eyelids half-open, making her appear cat-like and sexy.

  She flipped my switch from pissed off to pussy-obsessed in record time.

  “You playing detective,” I pointed at her with a breadstick, “makes me think this whole thing is a sham.” The words came out hoarse and hungry.

  She raised a straw to her lips, and my cock saluted. “A sham?” She asked.

  “Like you never needed my help, but just wanted me along for the ride.” I wiggled my eyebrows, “If you get what I mean.”

  “That’s ridiculous.” She started organizing the sweeteners by color in their rectangular holder.

  I grabbed her hand, and the feel of her skin jolted my senses. “So it’s silly to think you called me because of your attraction to me? And you’ve been thinking about me all these years?”

  She fought back a blush before answering me. “You know, Tony. I don’t recall you being so conceited when we used to hang out.”

  “So you weren’t thinking about me?”

  She slapped her cloth napkin on the table. “You’re incorrigible!”

  “In-core-what?”

  “Hopeless. Unrepentant. Naughty!”

  When she got heated like this, it went straight to my groin. I wanted to put her over my shoulder and throw her on the bed.

  “Check please!” I held up my hand and couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

  The update from Mexico would take days. I had plenty of time to play with my little librarian after punishing her for playing private eye and going rogue on me.

  She’d learn I was in command. Disciplinary measures for today’s infraction would help teach her. And she’d not go against my word in the future.

  I wouldn’t abide anyone jeopardizing her safety. Not even Daphne herself.

  11

  Daphne

  “What’s wrong?”

  I’d tried to make Tony laugh the entire way to his friend’s house, but nothing I did brought a smile to his face.

  “You’re about to find out.”

  The most handsome man in the world opened the huge front door at the mansion we’d pulled up to.

  “Perfect timing. I’m off to the airport. I’ve got time to show you around first.” He held his muscled and bronzed arm out and I shook his hand. “Name’s Guillermo. What’s your name, beautiful?”

  For a moment, I couldn’t remember it.

  “This is Daphne, and she’s taken, so get your womanizing mitts off her.” Tony’s grin was at odds with his words, and he delivered a playful punch to his friend’s arm.

  “You? Settling down? Did the earth just move?”

  “Let’s go, Seinfield. You going to show us the place or what?”

  “Right this way.”

  The backyard pool was as big as the bookstore, alongside it a hot tub, and a fully stocked kitchen and bar. We’d eaten lunch, but I was already excited to wrap my lips around what I saw in the fridge: packets of gourmet edibles which were fit for a princess.

  Guillermo showed us the alarm codes and how everything worked—the house was as complicated as the bridge of a spaceship—and made his departure.

  Leaving me alone with Grumplestiltskin.

  “I don’t know about you, but a hot tub and a glass of wine are calling my name,” I said.

  “Sounds good.” He spoke in a blunt style which grated on my nerves.

  “God, what’s got your goat this afternoon? You’ve been grumpy since you picked me up at the boutique.”

  Tony’s had a ruthless reputation, even amongst the other made men, and when he took an aggressive step towards me, I understood.

  His expression was the type that took no nonsense. From anyone.

  I didn’t bother twisting my arm away as he pulled me down the hall to the master bedroom where we’d dumped our bags earlier. I went with it. He plunked me on the mattress and had the nerve to direct me, “Stay.”

  What was I? His pet pooch?

  “What’s got your panties in a wad?” I asked.

  “It’s not my panties in a wad.” He turned around and in one hand, he held a pair of white cotton panties. In the other, a plaid skirt. The kind I’d worn for years, every time he walked me to and from school. “It’s yours.”

  “Where did you get those?” I pleaded, a flush of shame washing over my cheeks.

  “Where do you think?” He gave me a playful smirk.

  “You stole them from me? When? That’s so perverted.”

  “Not true. Perverted is wishing I’d taken a pair of your soiled undies instead so I could smell your pussy on them.”

  My stomach caved as a whoosh of air went out of me, and warm tingles ascended from my toes to the top of my head.

  “Antonio.”

  “Daphne Marie.”

  “That’s so naughty.”

  “It’s what you do to me,” he said, disturbing me with the raw power of my attraction to him. I was torn between wanting to run away and flinging myself into his arms.

  He strode across the room, picked up my hand, and placed it at the rock-hard shaft beneath his jeans, gazing straight into my eyes.

  He stepped back and held up the two scant articles of clothing. “I told you I had sexual requirements from you. You want my help with the Cartel, take your sundress off and put these on for me.”

  “What if I say ‘no’?”

  “Your punishment will be far worse.”

  “Punishment?” Repeating the word made nerves flutter kick in my belly.

  He got on one knee in front of me. “I’m going to spank you, Daphne. Because you were a bad girl and trying to go off on your own to find your sister. When I give an order, you follow it. This lesson is for your own good.” His gaze burned with such intensity. My soul trembled.

  “And these?” I held up the skirt and panties.

  “Those are for my own good,” he said.

  He took my place on the bed while I continued to take off my clothes and put on the panties and uniform. When I turned back towards him, he noticed I’d covered my bare breasts.

  “Remove your hands,” he ordered, and his smoldering look made me think he knew the effect he had, making me stand naked before him, bar the short skirt and same undies he peeked at when I was wearing them in high school. A gust of wind, bending over to pick up my backpack. I certainly flashed him more than once.

  “Come here, Daphne.” Sometimes when he spoke to me, it reminded me of us.

  Back then.

  It was a simpler exchange years ago. He was my protector. Me, the scared shitless young girl. Pathetically happy that for once, someone was taking care of her, versus the other way around.

  “Pull your skirt up,” he said. The pleasure of the newfound power I had over him pulsed in my veins.

  But what did I give to Tony back then?

  An occasional glimpse of my undies? I was only fifteen when he met me, underage, and so wrong for him.

  At least as an object of lust.

  “Pull your skirt up,” he repeated.

  The thin wool fabric was scratchy and familiar beneath the pads of my fingers. “Like this?” I asked, dragging the pleats up and over my thighs.

  “Yes, baby. Just like that.”

  He sounded so pleased with me as if precisely this second he’d spooned hot fudge sauce into his mouth. The desire to make him happier still flamed in my chest. “Tony?” I continued to hold up the article of clothing in one fist and lowered the fingers of my other hand to the top of my panties.

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Do you want me to show you what I would do sometimes while thinking of you and wearing this skirt?”

  I could see by his stiff posture and rigid muscles, his refusal cost him. “What did I say I was going to do to you?” The fierceness of his gaze burned like an oven.

  “Spank me?”

  He patted his lap. “Lay across my thighs.”

  “But I don’t want
a sp-” He yanked me to him and positioned me over his knee.

  I kicked my feet but stopped when he picked up my skirt and flipped it onto my back, leaving only the thin cotton fabric between his hands and my naked bottom.

  He rubbed soft, slow circles over my ass cheeks, and the heat at the apex of my legs pounded out an insistent beat.

  “I’m in charge and you’ll always be punished when appropriate. You agreed when you accepted my sexual proposal. Unless you’re having second thoughts.”

  I wriggled beneath his forearm, but it was like trying to tip over an elephant. “I’m not giving up! I’ll do anything to help my sister and you know it!”

  “Good girl. We’ll have a safe word for you in case things get too intense. Pick one so I can give your pretty ass the chastising it deserves.” His hands skimmed along the fabric of my panties, searing my flesh with the rough promise of his touch.

  His cock jumped when he said the word, “chastising.”

  “How about savage brute?” I snapped, making a futile, last-ditch effort to escape his grip.

  “Savage brute it is. You need things to stop, say it.” His hot hands traced the contours of my backside. “And, Daphne?”

  I turned back to look at him.

  “I’ll know if you’re faking it to get out of your spanking, so don’t you dare.”

  He dragged the elastic waistband down over my ass and pulled to a stop under the globe of each cheek. “Any idea how many times I thought of doing this to you when you were in high school?”

  His hands were hot as they traversed my flesh without hurry, leaving a swath of warmth across my skin. “But I was still a girl,” I objected. “You were ten years older than me.”

  “And you teased me mercilessly.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose. I had no idea how. That was Maggie’s expertise.”

  “One time you walked into the kitchen and she was all over me,” he said, his tone apologetic.

  “Yeah, it was inappropriate to think of me as a sex object back then. But I get it—remembering the red-hot, grown-up jealousy I felt, seeing her hands on you.”

  “I didn’t instigate it, Daphne, and I didn’t let it continue. Your sister never interested me. It’s always been you. I never would have touched you when you were underage. But God forgive me, I thought about it. Every time I was with you, no matter how hard I tried not to wonder about the shape and smell of your sweet pussy.” He rubbed circles around my clit, and my insides trembled. “I dreamed of clamping my mouth on this little nub and licking you to your first orgasm. After you came in my mouth, I’d hold the flavor of your come on my tongue as long as I could.”

  His fingers sped up, and I clamped down in response. “The modern-day, real-life version of your cunt makes all former fantasies of your forbidden flesh look like day-old-bread.” He removed his fingers, and I arched my back, trying to give him a hint to put them inside again where they belonged.

  “I’d say this will hurt me more than it will hurt you, but that’s a total lie. I’m going to love the sight of your ass jiggling every time I crack it with my palm. Afterward, I’ll make you relax in the hot tub naked so I can see your red streaks on display. My mark on you.”

  He lifted my chin so my neck crooked back and I felt like a farm animal being shown at the fair. “Grab my ankles and don’t let go. Put these about here.” He bumped my legs apart so my feet spread wide. “Perfect. Opens you up nicely.”

  The sound of a lid snapped behind me, and I wondered what Tony was doing. “Sometimes I thought, we could do it here.” I flinched when he rubbed warm, slippery stuff all over my back hole. My body stiffened when he slid his finger inside and started caressing me there.

  “I told myself, it wouldn’t be taking your virginity. We’d still be intimate. I realized it was one more sick excuse to stick my cock into you anywhere I could.” I was getting used to him stroking me in my most private place, and he hadn’t stopped rubbing and playing with my clit.

  I gasped at the invading thickness when he inserted a second finger, pushing another inch in, pausing, and pressing again until it stuffed me full. “Being with you is better than my sexually frustrated self could ever have fantasized back then.”

  “Wait, Tony. Don’t go any deeper.” I filled my lungs, trying to relax. He stopped.

  “Remove your panties, little girl. The smart of my palm against your naked bottom is going to hurt.”

  I lifted my hips and pulled the underpants to the floor.

  “I have a present for you to wear for me. It will help stretch you out for me fucking you there one day.”

  He removed his hand from my clit, and I heard the lid pop behind me again.

  “What are you…?” I asked before he removed his finger and pressed a slippery and metal object against my asshole.

  “Relax your muscles as best you can for me.”

  When he told me to do it for him, I turned to mush. And when he shoved the plug into me further than I thought possible, I panted, stuffed and throbbing, powerless against him. I winced and whimpered at first, until a lusty sensation of warmth stole over me to have my private hole filled while he stroked my clit. I was unprepared for the painful pleasure of being stretched wide, and it set off an unscratched itch.

  My need to be taken.

  I was crying out for him to make it better.

  Unfortunately, he planned to make it worse first.

  “This is a convenient handle, isn’t it?” He tugged on the plug, and I bit back a whimper. He had me effectively pinned. “I’ll have to be careful not to glance it when my hand meets your ass.”

  The air above me changed, and he slammed his palm down on my bare flesh. I let go of his legs and clenched my fists. “What did I say, Daphne? You are to grab my ankles.”

  “But it really hurts. I never knew it would sting so bad.”

  “It’s what you deserve, isn’t it? You were a very bad girl who needs to be taught a lesson.”

  Much to my dismay, my lip quivered when I answered, “I’m sorry, Tony.”

  “When you’re being disciplined, call me ‘Sir.’”

  I didn’t even hesitate. It seemed like the natural order of things to say, “I’m sorry, Sir.”

  When the next blow struck, all of his attention was focused on me, and I loved it.

  My whole body glowed, heat emanating from my sore bottom.

  I’d never stopped thinking of Tony all these years.

  This exchange between us, calling him ‘Sir,’ felt more normal than breathing.

  What I had been waiting for my entire life.

  To be laid bare by a man who appreciated what he found beneath my surface. A man who witnessed my ugly and found it attractive. The man who was introducing me to his own heady and intoxicating dance of discipline.

  “Oh God, how many?” I tried to wriggle my hips but only bumped up against the butt plug he still held fast in his hand. “How many more spankings?”

  “Savage Brute?” he asked.

  “No!” I grunted. “How many?”

  “If you’ll be a good girl and count for me, only five more.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I heard the rough pants leaving my lips as if I were exerting myself.

  Smack! His palm slammed into me and left a pulsing hammer of pain across my cheeks, a burn that faded.

  “One, Sir!”

  Smack! The sting covered my opposite ass cheek.

  “Two, Sir!”

  My entire body burned with a searing passion, soaked with shame.

  Smack! I yelped when he whacked me on the first cheek again because his second swat in quick succession on the same spot amplified the pain.

  “Three, Sir! Forgive me! Forgive me for being a bad girl and not telling you about the photos.”

  Smack! Now both of my cheeks burned like lava.

  “Four, Sir! I’m sorry I never let you see my panties back then. I’m sad I never told you I loved thinking of you when I touched myself!”

  He
froze, his breath billowing heat across me.

  The longest pause between blows was this one, and I waited for the next to come. I knew it would be bad, and I deserved it.

  I shocked myself, realizing I wanted him to make me pay.

  Smack!

  “Five, Sir! Please, please I’ll do anything you say, please don’t spank me anymore.” Tears formed in my eyes, but it wasn’t the soreness that made me cry.

  I needed his approval, his protection, his everything.

  I cried because this man held the key with which to punish my heart, and I prayed to God he knew what it would cost me if he did.

  12

  Antonio

  I couldn’t decide what I wanted to see more, Daphne’s ass plugged up and pretty, or her sweet little hole staring back at me, bare-naked. I decided on the latter because my plans to plug her up in the future were plenty.

  What I needed right now was some pure, unadulterated Daphne.

  “Leave your skirt on,” I demanded, even if it did make me a sick fuck.

  The twisted fantasy consumed me since the first hard-on she ever gave me.

  I was going to eat out little Daphne’s teenage pussy. Waiting an entire day, after yesterday, to savor her again was as tough as making my way without it for years.

  Why?

  Now I knew how fucking delicious she was. Her taste was addictive.

  She was splayed out on the mattress, her dark chocolate hair tossed across the pillow. “What are you going to do with me, Sir?” she asked, her hands steepled in front of her, resting beneath her mouth.

  Whether or not she knew it, she was fulfilling my fantasy to a T.

  The dream where I find seventeen-year-old Daphne touching herself. Stroking those curves no one in their right mind would consider childlike.

  The skirt did something for me.

  Her belly rose and fell, the sped-up pace a giveaway she was enjoying this too.

  “Why are you laying here in bed half-naked? I thought you had a debate tonight.” She was on the team, and of course, I never let her walk to school alone after hours.

  “Are you angry with me, Sir?”

  “No.” Granted, sexual frustration and anger looked a lot alike.