Commanding Thirst: Mafia Romance (Rough Redemption Book 2)

by Olivia Fox

  33

  Antonio

  I watched as the new hire handed out tickets to the buffet. Casino clients got free food there, but fine dining took place in the restaurant. Over my shoulder, guests cheered because somebody won big in the slots area.

  My cell phone buzzed in my right pocket. I pulled it out and entered my security code.

  Her: Sorry. Old habits die hard.

  Me:???

  Her: Let me explain?

  Me: Dinner at the Diamante. One hour.

  God didn’t play fair.

  That’s what went through my mind when she walked straight at me on killer high heels, wearing a burnt orange cocktail dress that cut across her thigh; there was see-through lace from above the knee reaching up to the split between her legs, and more transparent lace from her bottom rib to the spot I wanted to kiss — the underside of her breasts.

  I about dropped to my knees before her.

  I’d kneel at her pew every damned day of the week just to look at her.

  How the hell was I supposed to maintain any kind of bargaining advantage if the sight of her made me drool on the floor?

  “Hey,” she whispered and gave me a half-smile, which melted my insides.

  I wanted to yank her to me and swallow her helpless cry with a kiss.

  Haul her upstairs.

  Throw her on the bed.

  “Tony?”

  Shit. How long had I been spacing out, thinking of ravishing her?

  “Sorry. There’s a table ready. One of the private rooms.” Hope sprang eternal. We’d have complete privacy in case she wanted to kiss and make up during dinner.

  The server opened the wine and I insisted Daphne sample it.

  “Mm,” she said, and the sound stroked my cock to attention.

  We chose appetizers and ordered dinner so, finally, we could get down to the matter at hand. It was torture watching her dip the homemade bread into an oily swirl of balsamic and vinegar, pushing the dripping combination into her mouth.

  I only thought of one thing, shoving myself past those lips.

  I wanted to taste her everywhere, and my prolonged agony made me cranky as fuck.

  “What is it? You must have something to say, waiting weeks to contact me.” Her silence was annoying.

  She looked away, unable to meet my stare.

  The flickering candle gave her skin a soft, satin glow, and I imagined sliding beneath the table to see if she was wearing panties or not, then taking a long lick of her.

  Definitely should have masturbated before dinner.

  This was not cool.

  Her eyes suddenly shone up at me, in fear or excitement.

  We were so out of tune since getting back from Mexico.

  She placed her hot palm on my sleeve, and it was all I could do not to flinch from her heat.

  Fire licked up my insides, scorching off the last of my resolve.

  I jerked her towards me on the bench seat and swallowed her cry with a kiss. I couldn’t help myself and plundered her mouth, running my hands all over her body.

  It took more than a minute to realize her palms pressed against my chest, gently shoving me away from her.

  I looked at her quizzically and my brow furrowed, thoughts a jumble from the impact of her soft lips. I couldn’t form a single sentence and heard my breath come in pants as I pulled back to look at her.

  She bit her lip, her eyes ablaze with what I hoped was a lust half as strong as what I felt for her.

  She spoke in a halting voice as if dragging the words from her throat. “I don’t want to speak ill of the dead.” She softly shook her head, “Trying to help a sister who barely gave me the time of day was the wrong thing to do. She never learned to fend for herself. It was always me the rescuer, her the victim. As if our roles were set in stone.”

  This was heavy shit, and I agreed with every damn word coming out of her mouth. But I sure as hell would not hurt her further by saying I told you so. At last, she acknowledged the elephant in the room after years of being taken advantage of.

  “It’s hard to break old patterns, Daphne. I’m sorry you didn’t have more time to work on your relationship,” I responded.

  “Me too,” she declared, fighting tears of grief.

  I brushed her hair over her shoulder, needing to touch her but not knowing how in this moment. “You were always a wonderful sister to her.”

  “I’ve been pretty messed up, working over all of this in my mind. Realizing I’m alone, now.”

  True, she had no biological family left. “You’re not alone, Daphne. So long as I have an ounce of breath in me, you’ll never, ever be by yourself.”

  “That’s not why I mentioned it. What I wanted to tell you is I’m done thinking it over, Tony. You’re my treasure, my constant star.” She dropped her chin and looked up at me. ”Will you give me another chance?”

  My hand trailed over the curve of her hip and thigh, and she leaned toward me.

  “I was wondering how long it would take for you to realize we belong together, baby girl.”

  “A team,” she answered.

  I took a swig of my zinfandel and set down the delicate crystal stem on the white tablecloth.

  Lowering my lips to her ear, I whispered, “But it doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been a very bad girl for making me wait. For that, you’ll be spanked.”

  34

  Daphne

  He waited in the lobby wearing a black suit and white shirt which accentuated his sharp features and made my stomach flutter.

  Lucia helped me pick out the dress I was wearing earlier in the day. She was worse than Jared, telling me I needed to showcase my assets a bit more, dropping steady hints in the dressing room about how loyal and kind Tony was.

  As if I didn’t know.

  Having another woman to talk to about relationship stuff was amazing.

  She’d soon be my partner instead of my boss. Lucia understood I’d need time to think it over.

  Tony wanted me to own part of the bookstore. I’d decide what books to order, match readers to their interests and fantasies, set up special displays in the window, and someday, help watch Lucia’s baby as he or she crawled around in the toddler section.

  The man constantly delighted me.

  Was always there.

  I could expect it from him.

  And now his hulking, dark, Italian-American form stood beside me in front of an oversized door, no number on it, with a key card for entry. He’d booked the royal suite for us tonight.

  It was my first time seeing it since he kept me separate from this part of his world.

  This was the side of him I never saw.

  The family.

  His people.

  A family with money—lots of it, and a proclivity towards violence when it came to protecting their empire.

  He swung the door open and pulled me inside. I was grateful to have gotten to experience him without all the Drago trappings.

  Back then, the handcrafted beech wood bar, which served as a statement piece, with brass armrests and footrests, and a marble top would have intimidated me.

  “Is this all for us?” I asked, pointing to the impressive furniture.

  “Brando and I do a lot of entertaining here,” he said, and jealousy gnawed at my belly, knowing the entertainment he could provide.

  The hot spot between my legs, the one that burned embers whenever he was around, nodded her head in approval.

  The bar sat at the edge of a large living room, with a cream-colored, modern light hanging in its center, glowing like a Japanese lantern. An enormous sofa, chaise lounge, armchair, coffee table, and rugs were all grays and browns.

  Classy, masculine neutrals.

  “Come here.” Tony’s touch was a rough promise as he pulled me into the gigantic bathroom.

  “What’s this?” The room was dark. Votive candles set out on the rectangular edge of the soaking tub, provided a sexy, glowing display.

  “It’s where we
’ll relax after I drown in your taste and make you squirm under my tongue. I’m going to make you wriggle on my mouth.” He made a smug sound of male pleasure. “I’ve thought of nothing else.”

  “Nothing?”

  “You’re all I want, Daphne. All I can think about.”

  He got on his knees before me, digging his nose into the apex of my thighs, inhaling. “I smell your arousal right through your sexy little dress. You can’t hide it from me.”

  Every inch of me lit up with the burning, urgent need to possess him.

  “But we won’t appease your yearning just yet, will we.” It was a declaration, not a question.

  “No?” I replied.

  “I told you.” He scrubbed his jaw with his fingers, gazing at me. “Discipline first.”

  Oh Lord, I was in trouble.

  The past month seemed like a year.

  I’d grown accustomed to his hands on me every day during our trip south, and I missed the commanding and tender way he touched me.

  Those hands.

  He took my hand in his and led me back into the living room, tour over.

  The callused strength and enormity of his grip made me small by comparison: delicate and feminine.

  “Let me help you with your dress.” He turned me by the shoulders back to face him and lowered my zipper as if he had all the time in the world, his hot breath kissing the spot at the base of my neck, between my shoulders. “You wore it for me, didn’t you, my little cock tease? Making every man who sees you need to touch himself.”

  His dirty compliments made me stretch my back and mentally purr, wanting to rub my bottom against his leg.

  I craved his filthy appreciation. Finally, after waiting forever, it was mine.

  Yearned for it.

  Not de rigueur in the eyes of modern society, but I didn’t care.

  All these years, I had his care, his concern, his appreciation.

  Time to pay him back for all the things he’d done over time. Standing naked, helpless and willing before him, was just that.

  Payback.

  “I had a great idea the other day,” he began, turning me to face the bar and stifling a hungry groan as he lowered his hand between my legs, finding it wet-hot. He withdrew his fingers and whispered, “So ready for me. Did you miss me, Daphne?” His stare bore into mine and held a hint of fire.

  He placed my wrist on the marble top next to the metal holds of the armrest as if I were made of glass, and attached a handcuff to it. “I missed you.”

  “You know I did,” I said in a voice heavy with sexual heat.

  With painstaking care, he fastened both wrists and ankles to the brass supports so the cuffs wouldn’t slide anywhere, and it secured my arms and legs in place, spread eagle.

  “What are you going to do to me?” I hesitated, enjoying his body heat all along my backside, even though he didn’t touch me. His fingers yearned to stroke me, his mouth to eat me, and it radiated off of him like steam over boiling water. He said nothing.

  “Sir?” I asked.

  “Whatever I fucking want to.” There was a stark contrast between his harsh words and the way he caressed me, brushing my hair back behind my ear. “And you’re going to love it.”

  I shuddered under the lusty intensity stealing over my body.

  My heart pounded at his nearness.

  How I’d fantasized about this sensual dance between us during the last month.

  “Yes, Sir. Living without you was…” In dismay, I realized there were hot droplets of shame and regret sliding down my cheeks.

  He lowered his lips and kissed my tears away. “Not to worry, my little wren. All will be forgiven. Bend over the countertop. Press your face to its surface.”

  “Like this?” Doing so pushed my buttocks back towards him so I was even more exposed.

  “Perfect. Your pin-up worthy ass is right where I need it. How do you feel?”

  “The marble is cool on my forehead,” I answered.

  He must have wound up as if he were throwing a softball pitch because his spanking came from below and landed with considerable force on my bottom.

  I involuntarily grunted my surprise.

  “Am I supposed to count, Sir?” My voice sounded girlish, and I reprimanded myself to buck up and be strong.

  “No need. Just keep telling me how you feel.”

  I took a deep breath to steady myself. “I…”

  Thwack.

  Thwack.

  His blows came without warning as if timed to throw me off guard as I attempted to follow his orders, my speech sporadically interrupted by his forceful blow.

  “Continue,” he rumbled in his chest as his hand skated down my back.

  I cleared my throat. “I feel…”

  Thwack, thwack, thwack!

  “Keep talking while I discipline you!”

  It was impossible to hold my breath in anticipation of the next stinging smack. “Exposed! It’s been a long time since I’ve been naked in front of you. And you’re dressed.”

  A tortured moan pressed past my lips as the heated liquid of my arousal coated my inner thighs in response to his punishment.

  Tony delivered his chastening blows to my backside which must be glowing red by now.

  I gritted my teeth against the pain.

  “That’s not all. You know what I need to hear.” He blew warm breath in my ear, then panted my pet name, “Baby girl.”

  Rough hands squeezed and caressed my buttocks, “How does it make you feel?” His hands were like brands on my skin as he dragged his palm down my torso and rested at the place where my thighs joined. “Here? Describe it to me.”

  I started to speak, and Tony began a merciless and burning assault on my backside so it was impossible to tell when the next glance was coming. Yet I was determined to follow his orders. “When you discipline me, Sir, it makes me feel special. Like you’re giving all your attention to me.”

  Thwack!

  Thwack!

  Thwack!

  “And I can’t decide whether I want to be a good girl, to earn your praise,” I sighed in unashamed pleasure, ”or a bad girl, to earn more punishment.” I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, anticipating the next painful jolt.

  My breathing was heavy as I wondered if his hand hurt. How on earth could he chastise me with his bare palm, blow after blow, without receiving some of the sting himself?

  “Continue,” he said in a clinically detached tone of voice as if I wasn’t splayed naked before him, practically trickling my lust on the floor.

  He paused before striking me anew.

  “And it makes me think of nothing else but having your thick cock between my legs, filling me up so I can ride you, feel you stroking me inside, to make yourself come all over me.”

  He stepped back and I heard the jingle of his belt. Not that again.

  “Please, Sir, I was a bad girl staying away from you last month, and I deserved a spanking, but I want you inside me now.”

  I wriggled my bottom and begged, “No more discipline, please.”

  35

  Antonio

  I pulled my erection out of my pants, remaining otherwise fully clothed.

  “I’ll give it to you, baby, since you asked so nicely.” I reached around the front of her and found her slippery, throbbing nub, and worked it between two fingers. “First, let’s get one thing straight,” I told her.

  She leaned her ass back into my groin, purring in pleasure. “What is it?”

  Waiting wasn’t an option. I was so hard it hurt. The need to shove inside her was all-encompassing.

  “I’ll be the one doing the riding around here,” I growled.

  Slapping a palm down on either side of her head, I crammed into her tight, piping-hot. She winced and whimpered beneath me at first, then enjoyed it as I stroked in and out, taking her for a ride unlike any other.

  “Please, please, please,” she groaned in a desperate prayer.

  “Did you miss me, baby girl?”

/>   “So much,” she whined as I shoved into her, dragging my crowned tip across her g-spot and nudged it forward, back and forth, stimulating us both.

  Daphne rocked from side to side beneath me. “You like it?” I asked.

  She bit her lower lip and whimpered.

  “Say it out loud,” I growled at her.

  “You know just how to fuck my pussy. It’s going to make me come,” she said.

  “Hold tight. Don’t you dare.”

  I had an idea.

  After fucking into her a good twenty times more, I took all the time in the world to drag my cock out of her. When the end broke free of her, my erection bobbed up and smacked her on the clit.

  I lowered myself to the ground, crawled between her legs, and sat on the footrest of the bar in front of her, placing a single, soft kiss at the top of her slit. Unable to resist, I stuck my tongue out and got a good taste.

  Game over.

  As in, bad idea.

  She tasted like more, and I was going to give it to her. I dove in like a rabid animal, taking long licks at her with my exploring tongue, probing and plunging into her pouty pussy.

  The goddamned explorers, Lewis and Clark, had nothing on me—shoving my face up into her, rubbing and raking my fingers across her swollen bump, and then capturing her sensitive spot in my mouth to nibble, lick, and suck.

  She wriggled her hips in response, whimpering her desire. “Tell me, baby girl. Do I make your pussy ache?” I slammed my mouth back over her, latching on hard while I stroked at her with two curved fingers, for moments on end, while she continued to groan in torment.

  “Oh, please. Please help me come.”

  I abandoned her delectable, dripping lips and told her, “Don’t worry.”

  One by one, I placed her feet on the footrest, lifting her to the proper position. When I stood up behind her again, her sweet pussy lined up with the throbbing tip of my frightening hard-on, I plunged in.

  She squeezed around me, and I hissed through my teeth, looking down at her elegant spine which curved upward.