by Cassia Leo
The driver steps out to open the door for me as I get closer. I stare at the open car door, nervous about what awaits me inside. I just have to remember to stand my ground. I did nothing wrong.
I take the driver’s hand and he helps me step up into the backseat of the SUV. Then he promptly closes the door behind me. Knox’s gaze roams over my body from head to toe. As though he’s trying to gauge whether I’ve been tainted by Alex’s touch.
“We were just dan—”
“Shh!” He turns toward the driver, who’s just pulling away from the curb. “Take us home.”
“I don’t want to go home! I want to talk about this.”
He glares at me, his chest heaving. Then he shakes his head as he turns his attention to the crowds on 10th Avenue.
“We’re not going to your apartment. We’re going to mine.”
Chapter 9
The drive to Knox’s place is eerily quiet. I keep my eyes on him the whole ride there, but he only looks at me occasionally. I can’t decide if he looks disappointed, or if he’s silently calculating his revenge inside that dark mind of his.
Finally, we reach his gorgeous pre-war townhouse with a white stone facade and enormous black front door. I would have expected something a bit darker for Knox. But this definitely suits him. It’s almost palatial. Fit for a king.
“Wait here,” Knox says, grabbing my wrist before I can reach for the door handle.
His skin on mine takes my breath away. It’s been less than two days since I last saw him. Yet it feels like this is the first time he’s touched me in weeks.
I nod and he lets go of my wrist as he exits the vehicle. The front door opens as he climbs the steps and he disappears inside. The door closes behind him and we wait, the driver and I, in silence, probably so he can make sure the house is secure.
When the door opens again, Knox’s jacket and tie are gone. He opens the car door for me and extends his hand to help me out. My stomach flutters at this simple gesture. Maybe he’s not upset with me, or maybe he’s just buttering me up to punish me when we get inside. Either way, I’m thrilled with anticipation.
He closes the door behind me and leads me up the steps into his home. It’s as extravagant as I imagined it would be. This is a level of opulence he never would have achieved if he’d stayed in Bensonhurst doing small time gigs for my father.
The chandelier hanging from the twenty-foot ceiling is dazzling. The creamy white wallpaper with the barely noticeable taupe pinstripes. The custom woodwork, the curved staircase, and the dark furnishings all strike a perfect balance of glamor and permanence. Glitz and comfort.
“This is gorgeous.”
He gazes at the abstract painting above the mantle for a moment, then he turns to me. “Come with me.”
I follow him toward the staircase, but he passes right by it. He pushes a bookshelf on the wall beneath the stairs. A soft click sounds and the shelf hisses as it opens toward us. My mouth goes dry when I see another staircase that descends into total darkness.
He flips a switch on the wall and the wooden staircase is revealed to lead down to a well-lit corridor. “Are you afraid?”
I look up at him and there’s a slight twinkle in his eye. The possibility that I might be afraid pleases him.
I shake my head. “No.”
He smiles at this reply. “Good. Let’s keep going.”
We descend the stairs and head down the corridor until we reach the second-to-last room on the left. He pushes the door open a little and flips a light switch. Then he throws the door open all the way so I can see inside.
“If I had known you enjoy dancing so much, I would have brought you here sooner.”
The room is the size of a large bedroom. Plush loveseats line three walls. And in the center of the room are two stripper poles extending from the tile floor to the ceiling. The flashing lights bounce off the walls and the intermittently spaced mirrors.
“You want me to dance for you?” I ask.
He closes the door, leaving us standing in the gray corridor. Then he nods toward a door across the hall from the dance room. “You’re going to dance for me. But not yet. First, you need to be taught a lesson about freedom. It seems you didn’t learn this lesson the last time I tried to teach you.”
He opens the door and my jaw drops. In the center of the room is a glossy black table about two feet wide and six feet long. The table is topped with a white vinyl cushion. It looks almost like a fancy doctor’s examination table. But the items on the walls tell me Knox is not about to give me a medical exam.
Various chains, whips, ropes, and leather restraints hang from walls. The light glints off the chains and the buckles on the restraints. My entire body floods with a pulsating fear, making the lights dance in front of my eyes.
“Are you afraid now?”
I turn to him, grabbing his arm for support. That’s when I notice his sleeves are rolled up. He’s ready to go to work.
“I know you’d never hurt me.”
“Define hurt.” He flashes me that devious half-smile and my knees weaken. “Take off your clothes and lie down, Rebecca.”
He unzips the back of my dress in one swift motion and a gust of longing sweeps through me. I try not to let him see how my fingers tremble as I pull off my dress. But I know he can see it. He’s feeding off of it.
Once I’m naked, he swoops me up in his arms and gently lies me down on the table. The vinyl is cold against my skin. My nipples instantly perk up. Knox notices this and he brushes his thumb over my right nipple.
“This belongs to me.” He squeezes it gently and the throbbing need between my legs intensifies.
He pulls two armrests out of the table. Then he covers my wrists in plush sheepskin before he ties my arms down. I shiver as he traces his finger down my belly, over my thigh, and down to my ankle.
How is he going to tie down my ankles?
This question is answered quickly when he pulls out two metal stirrups from the table. He places my feet in the stirrups and ties down my ankles.
“Are you comfortable?” he asks, his voice isn’t as gruff as it normally is. There’s a soft, reassuring quality to it. He wants me to know I’m safe.
“Yes.”
“Good. Close your eyes.”
I do as I’m told. The darkness is both soothing and exciting. I wait for what feels like an eternity before I finally feel his touch. It feels like the soft tassels of a leather whip being lightly dragged over the skin between my breasts. I want to open my eyes, but I know this won’t go over well with Knox.
He drags the tassels over my belly and down between my legs. He lands a swift whack against the inside of my thigh and I cry out.
“Holy shit!”
Immediately he holds his hand over the spot where he whipped me, and the warmth of his hand makes the pain melt away. He doesn’t give me any time to breathe before he whips the inside of my other thigh. He takes the pain away with his hand and I brace myself for the next lashing.
The next two land on my butt, one on each cheek. Each time I cry out just as loudly as the last time.
“Does that hurt?”
“Yes!”
He whips my ass again, but this time he gets a piece of my engorged lips. I shriek just as a soft blow lands on my clit. This knocks the breath out of me. Immediately, his mouth is on my swollen nub, soothing me, licking my wounds.
My shrieks turn to cries of pleasure and my legs begin to tremble. He sucks on my clit and kisses every inch of my flesh. But he stops just short of making me come.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he makes his way toward the back of the room, disappearing out of my view.
“Be patient, baby girl. You’ll get your release.”
I close my eyes, trying to ignore the unsatisfied ache between my legs, but the unrelenting throbbing is almost painful. Knox returns a moment later with what looks like a back massager, but is very obviously a Hitachi Magic Wand. I had to throw mine away when I found myself beco
ming addicted to the intense orgasms it produced. Jesus Christ. He’s going to torture me in the sweetest possible way with that thing. I know it.
The wand has a long white cord that dangles from the bottom. It’s plugged into a black extension cord that disappears from view somewhere behind me. The glint in Knox’s eye as he stares at my aching, swollen lips is both diabolical and sexy.
“Do you want me to make you come?”
“Yes,” I reply, my voice a raspy whisper.
“From now on, when we’re in this room, you address me as Master or sir. Are we clear?”
Holy shit. What the fuck am I getting myself into?
My chest trembles as he slowly traces the head of the wand over the inside of my thigh. “Yes, sir.”
With his free hand, he shoves two fingers inside me and uses his thumb to massage my clit. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you may pass out.”
Oh, fuck.
“But I don’t want you to be afraid,” he continues. “Your job is to submit to me and my job is to earn your submission. That’s how this works. You belong to me now. Do you understand?”
I nod as my breathing quickens. “Yes, sir.”
My thigh muscles begin to twitch as I get closer to orgasm. He removes his hand from between my legs, once again leaving me unsatisfied.
His fingers brush softly over my inner thigh. “If you ever feel genuinely afraid for your safety, you’ll say your safe word, which is no more. If you feel like I need to go slower or easier on you, or you’re no longer feeling any pleasure, you’ll say ease up. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply, breathless with anticipation as he holds the head of wand right over my clit.
He turns it on and the buzzing noise instills me with both fear and longing. “Good. Then let’s get this party started.”
He traces slow circles with the wand over my swollen lips, avoiding my clit, until I can barely catch my breath.
“Please,” I beg. “Please finish me… sir.”
He smiles as he slowly moves the wand onto my clit. All the muscles in my limbs seize up.
“Oh, God,” I cry out as the orgasm builds quickly.
He removes the wand and turns it off as he looks me in the eye. “Beg for it.”
“Please, sir. Please let me come. Please.”
He shakes his head. “Not good enough. I’m going to tire out this tight little pussy. I want you begging until you lose your voice.” He turns the wand back on and presses it against my clit. “Then I’m going to make you come so fucking hard you’ll lose your mind. And then, I’ll fuck you so good, you’ll have an out of body experience.”
Oh, Jesus fucking Christ.
My body curls inward, pulling at the restraints as the orgasm begins. But once again, Knox removes the wand from between my legs.
I groan loudly. “Please, Master. Please don’t stop. Please, sir. Please just let me come. This is too much.”
I consider saying the safe word, but only so he can undo my restraints. Then I can reach down and relieve the unbelievable ache between my legs myself. But I decide against. I trust Knox will give me my release when the time is right.
This sweet torture lasts for at least another twenty minutes. Finally, he ends this torment by giving me three successive orgasms—two with the wand and one more with his mouth. Then he undoes my restraints and lowers the table a little.
As I sit up, he smiles when he notices the limpness in my arms and legs. He spreads my knees apart a little so he can stand right in front of me as I sit on the edge of the table. His fingers brush over my cheek, and I find myself leaning into his hand, still craving his touch.
“You did good, baby girl.” His voice is soft and soothing as silk. “So now I’m going to give you what you really want.”
He removes the black belt from his slacks and tosses it aside. Then he undoes his pants and drops them, along with his boxer briefs, to the floor. I smile as a burst of warm energy floods my veins. I reach up and drape my arms over his broad shoulders. He smiles back as he leans in to kiss me. It’s not just any kiss.
It’s an all-consuming kiss. A kiss fueled by passion and longing as much as love and compassion. His hands move lightly over my back and hips as his tongue dances with mine. He nips softly at my bottom lip and I sigh into his mouth. Then his hands land on my ass and he grabs it firmly as he slides into me.
“Oh, yes,” I breathe.
I wrap my legs around him and moan as he moves in and out of me at an agonizingly slow pace. Taking his time, he pierces me just a bit deeper with each thrust. I lean my head back and he kisses the column of my throat, sucking gently as his hips roll along to a delicious rhythm. I’ve never come without clitoral stimulation before today, but I can feel another colossal orgasm approaching.
My limbs become warm and tight as he quickens the pace of his thrusts. “I’m gonna come,” I declare. “Oh, God.”
His mouth falls over mine and the room seems to fade away as he plunges into me harder and faster. I feel as if I’m floating. As if the table beneath me, and the entire room, has disappeared. All that exists is Knox and me.
He grunts as he leans his forehead against mine. We both look down, watching his cock as it slides into me a few more times before we both find our release. He tightens his arms around my waist and I tighten mine around his neck. His cock twitches inside me as he holds me close, both of us trying to catch our breath. We stay like this for a while, until finally he pulls away and kisses my forehead.
“You did good,” he assures me, and the praise feels extremely rewarding.
He has to carry me to the dance room. My limbs are like limp spaghetti in his arms. He lays me down on one of the sofas, then he kneels next to me.
He cups his hand over my sensitive mound and growls in my ear. “Who does this belong to?”
“You,” I breathe, completely spent, but I manage to reach out for him. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up so I can hold him close. “I’m yours. Only yours.”
Chapter 10
Waking up in Knox’s plush bed, with his muscular body lying next to me, is beyond dreamlike. This must be heaven.
I scoot closer to him, and he begins to stir. I drape my right arm and leg over his warm body and he pulls me flush against him.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he murmurs.
He lays a soft kiss on my forehead, and I return the gesture with a lingering kiss on his scruffy jaw.
“Good morning.”
“I have to go to work soon.”
“On Sunday!”
He chuckles and the sound is so warm, I want to wrap myself in it. “I work every day. But I’ll be back in a few hours. Make yourself at home. The staff will get you anything you need.”
I trace my finger down the middle of his solid chest, then I kiss his nipple. “I love… being in your house.”
I pull my head back a little to watch his reaction. He’s wearing a soft smile as he looks out the window. I grab his chin and turn his head so he’s looking at me.
“But I still feel like we’re hiding.”
His smile disappears. “Of course we’re hiding. There’s a lot at stake here. No one can know my true identity.”
“But I just want to do something normal. I want you to take me to dinner or a movie or something. Isn’t that what you want? To feel free for a little while?”
“Rebecca, I’ll never be free until this mission is complete. Once this mission is complete, you and I can go to any restaurant or movie theater in Manhattan. We’ll dance naked in fucking Times Square if that’s what you want. But right now, it’s not possible.”
I lie back on my pillow and stare at the ceiling, feeling utterly defeated. Knox turns onto his side and lays his hand on my belly.
“Okay, listen. I’m finding out today if everything is set up for you to meet your father on Thursday. If I get the green light, I’ll take you on a date tonight. Deal?”
“A date? Like, a real date?”
“A real human date. I’ll even bring you some flowers if you want.”
I turn onto my side to face him again, and he immediately reaches around to rest his hand on my ass. “It’s a deal.”
He lands a soft swat on my behind, then he slides out of bed. “How are you feeling today? Sore?”
I gather the comforter between my legs to fill the void left by his absence. “I feel great.” I slide my hand between my legs to check how sensitive I am after last night’s lesson.
He tilts his head at me. “Are you touching yourself?”
“Just checking to make sure everything’s okay down there.”
I squeal as he pulls the covers off me and tosses them to the floor. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Chapter 11
I decide not to hang around Knox’s house. I’m not one to lounge around and do nothing unless I’m with someone. So I ask one of his driver’s to take me to my apartment, then I change into my workout clothes and head for the gym. I need to make sure I’m in peak physical condition for whatever Knox has planned for tonight—and for many nights to come.
I get lucky and find an empty elliptical machine right when I arrive at 11:30 a.m. I drape my towel over the display so I can’t see the number of minutes I’ve been on the machine. This helps because it allows me to keep going past a set time of thirty or forty-five minutes. I just keep going until I can’t take it anymore.
It also helps when someone accuses me of hogging the machine. I can say, “Whoops! My towel was covering the timer. Sorry.”
I’m only on the machine a few minutes before someone calls my name from somewhere behind me.
“Rebecca? Is that you?”
I glance over my shoulder and find Lenny Pastore. Lenny worked for my dad until the shake-up in 2004 when Tony Angelo and a few of his guys went rogue. Lenny was about the same age as Marco when Marco’s mom, Ella Leone, was killed by Tony in a bad deal. Tony was trying to get some information from Ella. I never found out what kind of information he was gunning for, but he killed her in May 2004.