Punishing Thirst : Mafia Romance (Rough Redemption Book 1)

by Olivia Fox

  The muscles in his jaw rippled and his cheeks grew ruddy.

  I set my spine in a rigid line, stared at my cup of coffee, and tapped my lip wondering how I not only accepted gangster justice, but, more than that, found it hot.

  First, I saved myself by killing someone.

  Then Dante, and his cousin, helped me get away with it.

  I should feel guilty.

  Instead, I felt like fucking.

  Him.

  “So, set your mind at ease about that.” Dante continued with his mansplanation, and I found it kind of cute. “Don’t hold on to guilt, not for a single minute. The world is better off without that cock sucker in it.”

  We ate in silence for a bit, and I stared out the window at the spot where the trees bowed over the lake and cast reflections in the water, trying to take it all in.

  Emotions were off the hook, sitting in the kitchen with this edible, sexy man who came to my rescue.

  I never considered myself a woman who needed saving. Joining a self-defense class was one of the first things I did to make sure I could protect myself when Mathew started getting weird. But it felt so good to let someone take care of me.

  “There’s one more thing you should know, and you won’t like it.” His gaze was probing.

  “What’s that?” I bit my lip in reaction to the strained tone of his voice.

  “You’re not going anywhere.”

  “What do you mean?” My coffee cup trembled in my hand.

  “You’re staying here. With me. I looked out for you the other night, and now it’s your turn to look out for me.”

  On the other side of the bay window, a deer was grazing at the edge of Dante’s lawn. My arms were rigid under my hands as I rubbed them absently. “What makes you think I’ll do what you say? Aren’t you being a little heavy-handed?”

  “Perfect way to describe it. I’m very forceful with my hand, and from the way you responded the night before last, something tells me that hot little body of yours is going to love it.”

  “Dante, I have no clothes here. And what about work?” My voice lowered to a whisper.

  “Of course you can go to work, your auntie needs your help. I’ll drive you there and pick you up every day.”

  “You mean like a little kid?”

  “I mean, I can’t rest unless you’re under my protection. And now that I’ve saved your ass, you owe me one. You’re staying here, end of story.” He leaned over the table to brush my hair out of my eyes, and a tremor ran up my back. It was hard to distinguish whether his passion was sexy, dangerous, or both.

  Hadn’t I already discovered the deceptively fine line between a man being possessive and a man being emotionally unstable? How quickly rejection turned to obsession?

  Dante cut his eyes towards me. “There’s something else you need to know.”

  I pushed my glasses up the bridge of my nose, nodding slowly.

  “We’re not just roommates.“ His huge forearms wrapped around his chest like steel bands and his direct gaze unsettled me. “You’re my fiancée. At least in the eyes of the voting public, until the election is over.”

  I slapped both palms on the table. “What are you talking about?”

  His chiseled jaw set in a hard line, and his chin thrust out towards me. “I’m running for Union President. Let’s just say, certain influential campaign donors will only give their support to a family man. You, my sweet betrothed,” he put his hot palm over my hand and stared me down, “are going to help me land those votes.”

  Dante was single and smoking hot. Women would line up around the block to stand in as his fiancée-for-a-while, so it made little sense that he’d set his sights on me. Other than the fact that I was conveniently close, and I owed him one.

  Life had taught me to expect the unexpected. But as for the dirty things he’d make me do as his fake fiancée, I never could have seen them coming.

  8

  Dante

  I hated having to explain myself.

  As if there were any alternative but the one I presented to her. It would be better, save time, if we could just leap ahead to that and shake on it.

  Kiss on it.

  Spank on it.

  I was ready to seal the deal with Savanna and make her surrender to me completely. “You accepted my favor. Carlos took care of the mess in the bakery and your secret is safe. Now it’s your turn to help me.” I bit down hard and felt my jaw twitch.

  “So you said the other night. What if I don’t want to do any favors? What if I want to go home now?” She scowled up at me like an angry kitten and put her hands on her hips. Little did she know, her sharp tone made me hungry for her.

  “I can call the police. Have you arrested for murder.” I paused when she raised a sassy brow at me. “But you know I won’t do that, don’t you? I prefer to take matters into my own hands. Literally.”

  Her eyes were flinty, and she thrusted her chin out at me, insistent on pursuing a line of questions which just made me tap my foot and drum my fingernails on the countertop. “And what if I don’t let you keep me here? It’s not like you’re the boss of me.”

  I placed a fist under my chin, held my elbow with the other, and circled her, devouring her with my eyes. We were like two cats ready to pounce on one another.

  Her wildflower scent filled my nostrils and her breath speed up. Her chest rose and fell faster, and her nipples ripened into little buds beneath the sweatshirt she wore.

  “You can do as I say, or we can take care of things my way. Your penalty for argument will be over quick, and it will burn your bottom. After your spanking, your insolence will be forgiven, so long as you do as I say.”

  Her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

  A small shiver fell over her body like a fountain. Good odds that her pussy was soaking her panties.

  Time to find out.

  Please, let her argue with me. Let her struggle so I could fuck her hard for it, like she deserved, and so obviously wanted.

  Her eyes darted from side to side and the apple-red blush flushed her cheeks as my words sank in.

  She was tough as nails.

  Her eyes flicked from my face to the door behind me, and what felt like a block of styrofoam in my throat made it difficult to swallow. Hadn’t she been through enough already?

  She was so brave.

  The blonde strands of hair swooped across her eyes as she looked away from me, darting her eyes at the door.

  I pushed her bangs back into place, just as I’d do with Stefania.

  With the same rebellious spirit as my little niece in a fit of rage, Savanna locked eyes with me.

  Contemplating what to do.

  Run away?

  Fight?

  Go along with it and see what happened?

  The struggle was real and painted across her features like the writing on the wall.

  Any of the alternatives going through her mind would cause the same outcome.

  No matter how she tried to fight, she owed me, and it was time to collect on that debt.

  Muscles tensed, ready for a fight, I almost laughed out loud. No way was this soft creature going to win a wrestling match with me.

  Many a soldier would fall on his sword for a glimpse of that gorgeous face, and that sweet ass of hers.

  Hers wasn’t an ostentatious or overt beauty, but it enchanted with its subtlety and grace. Enticed a man to get closer, to discover the mystery that lay beneath.

  The result was, my cock got harder just waiting for her to respond. It gave me time to imagine her writhing on top of it, while I held her down on my lap.

  Time to collect my payment.

  We’d pretend to be engaged for three months until after the election, with Savanna at my disposal the entire time.

  At my beck and call, laying across my thighs, her hips wiggling back and forth. Her delicious ass jiggling after my hand came down in a loud whack.

  She’d be under lock and key, except for her shifts at the bakery,
with plenty of time to discover all the naughty little things I knew she kept inside.

  All of those misbehaving, filthy thoughts rose off of her, disguised as the scent of blossoms.

  Sick of wasting time, I crossed my arms across my chest and scowled at her. “What do you say?”

  “About what?” Her arms covered her chest, mimicking me.

  Brat.

  My cock jerked its plea to punish her ass and teach her a lesson. I glared at her. “I don’t like waiting, baby. For that you’ll be punished.”

  Her apple blush appeared again and intensified in color. My vow in that moment, reverent as the rosary, was to chasten her bottom cheeks until they were the same hue.

  Her eyes darted to the window facing the lake. “Punished?” she snapped, “What is this, kindergarten?” She put her hands on her hips and squinted her eyes at me.

  “I’m willing to consider your silly deal, me staying here, pretending we’re engaged in exchange for your silence. But punishment wasn’t part of your original offer. I mean, come on, I’m a grown woman, not some recalcitrant child in need of a firm hand.”

  “The precise terms of our agreement aren’t yours to make.” My hand squeezed into a fist.

  Whether or not she knew it, she needed it hard, and I’d give it to her.

  “You’re in no position to bargain since I hold all the cards. I suggest you get compliant, stat.”

  “Oh God, this is ridiculous. Just tell me what you plan on doing to me and get it over with.”

  “You know very well what I’m going to do to you, so why don’t you tell me.”

  She squirmed under my direct stare while I waited for her to say it.

  To confess it.

  Out loud. Like her sins.

  With confession came redemption.

  Delaying our inevitable crossover from an every-day-vanilla relationship into a dom and sub dynamic was delicious. The anticipation fueled my pounding need to be inside her.

  Savanna rolled her eyes, perfectly playing the role of a disobedient brat.

  “You like to hurt women. You enjoy backing them into a corner and blackmailing them… teaching them your perverted lessons. You’re sick.” She spit out that last word.

  “How do I punish them?” I asked. “Do you suppose it’s punishment if they actually like it?”

  “I have no earthly idea,” she hissed.

  “Think about it. What would a big, tough, construction guy like me do to a naughty girl like you when she doesn’t do as she’s told?”

  A movie montage splashed across my vision, Savanna ass up waiting for her spanking.

  At first, she‘ d be afraid.

  Her quivering voice pleading, “Oh, please don’t spank me!”

  Then the transition as her pussy pulsed and dripped on me. Suddenly needing dick.

  Wondering, “How can this be happening? Why am I so wet and turned on by something so wrong?”

  She’d squirm and wiggle, trying to get away, fueling the fire of my cave man urges to spank her, fuck her and pull her hair.

  Then she’d ask me for it. “Yes! Dante, fuck me hard.”

  The sexy, physical power struggle between a man and woman was simply right.

  While I daydreamed, Savanna started creeping away from me ever so slowly. If she thought she was going to make a run for it, she was crazy.

  My nearest neighbors were miles away.

  I took one step toward her.

  All I had to do was grab her arm. There was no way she could get away from me. Out of the blue, she bolted, but not before kicking me as hard as she could in the shins.

  The pain eased when I rubbed it, and she took advantage, running towards the kitchen door which led outside.

  “Slow your roll there, missy,” I said, sucking air between my clenched teeth. “Unless you want me to contact the cops.”

  “Go ahead! You’re an accessory to murder! Why didn’t you call them right away?” She yelled back over her shoulder.

  “This is my last offer. You do things my way, or I get in touch with the law.”

  Her hand dropped from the doorknob, and she turned slowly back towards me. My limbs tingled.

  She sighed and clumped noisily back to where I stood, shoving her lips out and had to lean back to look up at me, “Fuck. Might as well get this over with.”

  I leaned back against the wall and raised one eyebrow at her. “What are you talking about?”

  “You. Me. Your hand on my ass.” She huffed.

  “And where should I punish you?”

  “I don’t know…” Her voice got soft. “I’ve never done this before.”

  My cock twitched. “First time for everything. Remember, in this family, you do something wrong and there are consequences for your actions. Understand?”

  Her insolent glare caught me off guard. “What, like whacking a guy? Like this was the first time someone has ever involved you in a murder. Please. I had dinner with your family, remember?”

  She was unrepentant, which made what I had to do to her, much more appetizing. “I can forgive you for killing that man, I already told you that. His life wasn’t worth a plug nickel to me. But when you make me wait for your answer, when you don’t communicate with me, for that you will be punished.” I ran my thumb over her bottom lip, unable to resist its silky softness, “Every time.”

  My instincts told me that Savanna was a girl who needed rules and consistency, and I was the man to provide them.

  Standing next to her was like being alongside a campfire. She radiated heat. I grabbed her hand and led her to the ottoman in the living room. She stood in front of me, staring at me intensely.

  I sat on the ottoman and yanked her over my lap, holding her in place with one hand.

  “This is so awkward,” she gasped, breathily.

  “You’ll get used to it,” I said, and positioned her ample, Mediterranean hips over the tops of my thighs so she rested against my torso.

  Her feet paddled in protest. “No kicking, Savanna.” I dropped my voice down to training tone and delivered a blow to the top of her thighs right under her delectable ass.

  “Slide those sweats off. Nice and slow. I want to enjoy the view.”

  She froze in place, but then did as she was told. Staring at her proud and bountiful ass, I drew my hand back, high in the air, and swung it down with a satisfying thwack.

  Direct hit.

  A gratifying sting spread across my palm.

  “Yikes! That hurt!” She sounded surprised.

  “It’s supposed to.” I brought my hand down equally hard on her other cheek. This time, instead of crying out, she sucked her breath in between her teeth. “No wonder you don’t find it necessary to follow rules. You’ve never had consequences before.”

  She flailed her fists and swore at me beneath her breath.

  I loved her fight. “You will surrender to me, Savanna. Let’s start with you saying, ‘thank you, Sir’ after I spank you.”

  Once she’d mastered that simple task, I’d brand her body with mine.

  9

  Savanna

  His huge hand came down again, right, then left, then right, then left. My hips wriggled and I could feel his erection growing under me.

  I stopped wiggling and started counting.

  “Chain of command.” He snapped.

  Whack! Whack! Whack!

  “I say it, you do it! End of chain. Are we clear?” he asked.

  Five more solid spanks with me draped over his knees.

  “Yipes! That hurts!” I insisted, aware of every single aspect of his being. The thin cotton fabric of his button-up shirt brushing against my flank, the huffs of air which puffed from his mouth when he lit into me. Such treatment should offend an independent woman.

  But my nipples were rigid, and my pussy’s wet heat gave away my arousal every time his powerful hand connected with vulnerable, exposed flesh.

  Was my skin rosy and inflamed? Could he see more than just an ass? Did he see my
sex, and was that why his cock was getting harder beneath my belly?

  Was this what he needed to get off? Whatever it took to make the pain end. “I’m sorry! Please forgive me, Dante. I won’t do it again.” I begged.

  “Won’t do what again? Confess your crimes,” he snarled.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t agree to stay with you right away and that I argued with you.”

  Pleading guilty made my chest immediately lighter, so I continued, “And I’m sorry for not accepting my punishment, my spanking, like a good girl.”

  I felt his entire body stiffen against me and he asked in a halting voice, “Did you learn your lesson?”

  “Yes, Dante,” I whispered.

  “What do you call me?” he asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The word “Sir” came out like a benediction with the same cleansing power of prayer, so I pronounced it again, “Thank you, Sir for spanking me and teaching me a lesson.”

  “You haven’t thanked me properly yet, but you will. Let’s get you ready for my cock,” Dante lay into me with the powerful strength of his arms, and while it hurt for an instant, the blows weren’t hard enough to cause a pain that lingered.

  He waited long enough between slaps so that I could say, “Thank you, Sir.”

  His hand suddenly turned gentle, rubbing out the sting, and lingering to stroke the interior of my thigh, teasing, never touching the place that clenched and throbbed to be touched by him.

  It was the most delicious torture I’d ever experienced.

  It left me panting.

  Pumping my hips in the air as a hint, shameless and unable to stop myself, moaning aloud at every blow before expressing my gratitude and reverence for him.

  His spankings were a relief, driving the desperate need building between my legs away, if only for an instant.

  “Please, Sir. Please help me,” I pleaded.

  “What is it, baby?” His gravelly voice stroked me like a caress in all the right places, and I had to place my fingers on my nipples, twisting them under my sweatshirt, desperate for some kind of relief.