Gabriella's Prosecution [The Black Iris Club 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic)

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Gabriella's Prosecution [The Black Iris Club 3] (Siren Publishing Everlasting Classic) Page 4

by Skye Michaels


  * * * *

  Miguel planned to enjoy Gabriella this weekend and perhaps introduce her to some of his more unusual tastes. That remained to be seen. He would have to test those waters carefully. He knew he would love having her in his bed regardless of whether or not they were able to take their play to the dungeon. He took her arm. “Let’s go inside. I’ll get your bag from the car later.”

  Miguel had fantasized about having Gabriella in his home dungeon for a long time. It would be the next best thing to having her at the Black Iris Club. Maybe he would be able to coax her into trying the locked room in the barn. That meant having to explain his sadistic tastes to her a little sooner than he had planned. It was a risk he might be willing to take in order to enjoy those pleasures with her as his willing victim. But she had to be willing. He had fought long and hard with the help of his uncle Juan Alba, a few close friends in the lifestyle, and the BDSM tenants of “Safe, Sane, and Consensual” to get those desires under control. Control was everything. He wouldn’t risk slipping into the dark passions of his ancestors. Even they had known they went too far, and the Inquisition had driven them to make lives in the New World. Nonetheless, their new lives in Puerto Rico had continued in the same direction for hundreds of years. The exotic sexual tastes of the men in his family had been too deep-seated to leave behind.

  Miguel knew he had strong feelings for Gabriella beyond the obvious rise of his dick. He admired her as a person for her intelligence, for her beauty, for her strong spirit. He didn’t want to break that spirit. He wanted to enhance it with the beauty of pleasure through pain. He thought Gabriella might be a woman who would appreciate that beauty. He hadn’t taken many women to his dungeon. He had to be careful because of his current political office and further political ambitions. It wouldn’t do for the fact that Miguel Gatto was a sadist to become common knowledge.

  This weekend he wanted to introduce Gabriella to the pleasure to be had from a little bondage or forced orgasm play—or maybe a good spanking. It would probably be too soon to introduce the whip. He was a master with a short tail. The dragon-tail whip was reserved for only the most dedicated masochists. Gabriella might never achieve that level of pleasure, and she might never see the dragon tail in his hand.

  He watched Gabriella’s eyes pop when they walked through the mudroom off the patio and into the huge Mediterranean kitchen. Most women loved the kitchen. Since he rarely cooked, he tended to take it for granted. The warmly colored tile floors complimented the brightly colored Moorish-design tile countertops and backsplashes. The appliances were all stainless steel, restaurant quality.

  “Are you hungry? My housekeeper left the refrigerator stocked with ready-made things. All we have to do for Christmas is bake the ham.”

  “Oh, that sounds wonderful. Actually, I am a little hungry.” Miguel opened the refrigerator and brought out a pitcher of iced tea and a big bowl of chicken salad with a platter of lettuce, sliced tomatoes, condiments, and Italian rolls. “Can I help?”

  “Of course. Let’s make the sandwiches, and then we can eat out on the patio.” When they were finished, they carried the food and drinks outside. Murphy and his two boxers, Lennon and McCartney, had chased each other around the pool until they apparently became dizzy and finally settled on the patio under the table. It looked like the dogs were going to get along fine. All three appeared hopeful that a sandwich would be dropped in their direction. “Sorry, guys. It’s biscuits for you.” He tossed each of them Milk-Bones, which were snatched out of the air.

  The patio overlooked a large, irregularly shaped swimming pool and hot tub. The green pastures were enclosed by four-board, white horse fences and bordered by tall trees, and a tennis court could be seen behind the three-car garage. The sun was bright and the air was a little cool. Faint wisps of vapor came up off the surface of the heated pool. “We can swim after lunch if you’d like.” He would love to get her out of those jeans and into a bathing suit. Baby steps toward naked. He grinned to himself. Then she smiled at him, and his heart gave a little leap.

  “That would be great. I could use the exercise. I’ve been behind my desk more hours in the last week and a half than in the last month. I didn’t realize how much more work it is to be first chair. I always thought we second chairs did all the work.”

  “That’s a common misconception. When the buck stops with you, you have to look at every single thing—if you’re good at your job, that is. Some prosecutors are hacks and don’t give a damn about justice, only convictions. I would never want to be one of those. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that ‘it’s better to let a thousand guilty men go free than to convict one innocent man,’ but I wouldn’t want to be the one to convict that one innocent man.”

  * * * *

  After lunch Gabby grabbed a bathing suit and light cover-up from the bag in her SUV. The black maillot suit with the high, French-cut legs was sleek and sexy but covered more than just the essentials. She had brought a bikini, but she didn’t feel comfortable wearing it yet. She wanted to see how Miguel reacted to her in almost no clothing. She knew how she wanted him to react.

  The breeze was brisk, but the sun was warm on the protected patio. Gabby was looking forward to lying in the sun for a while. She realized that she was slowly becoming more comfortable in Miguel’s company. He could be charming, and he was definitely tuned in to her. She had not been the focus of such intense scrutiny from a man before. She would never share the fantasies she’d had about him with another soul. She didn’t know where those errant thoughts had come from. She had never had thoughts like that before. She didn’t understand them, and she wasn’t comfortable with them—but they were there nonetheless.

  She changed into her bathing suit in a small but luxurious powder room under the curved staircase that led upstairs. She was nervous about going up there. She knew intellectually that she would be sharing Miguel’s bed this weekend. She just needed a little time to become accustomed to the fact. If she was honest, she would admit that she had wanted him since she had first laid eyes on him. Progress had been slow, but in her mind she had felt his hands caress her body, and her vibrator had been his cock—all of which had scared her silly. That was why she had made a concerted effort to avoid him. Well, avoidance was over. She planned to finally live and fully enjoy the fantasy.

  She walked out onto the patio and dropped her cover-up on a chaise next to the pool. She walked to the edge of the beautifully tiled coping and dove in. She knew her jackknife was flawless. She hadn’t spent eight years on the swim team first in high school and later at UM for nothing. She didn’t believe she had been good enough for Olympic competition, but she had been close. Studying for her law degree had ended those dreams. She had graduated second in her law school class, and that honor had not come easily. She’d had to work hard for it.

  When her head broke the surface of the sparkling turquoise blue water, Miguel was standing at the side of the pool. The look in his eyes spoke volumes. “Querida, that was much too quick. I didn’t have enough time to enjoy the view. Beautiful jackknife, by the way.”

  She was amazed to see him strip off his T-Shirt, kick off his boots, and lower the zipper of his jeans. When he pushed them off, he was standing there naked in all his considerable glory. Wow. Every muscle on his chest, which was covered with just a minimum of glossy black hair that arrowed down to his groin and surrounded a beautiful, fully erect cock, was perfectly sculpted. His arm and leg muscles were defined and sleek but not overly developed. She had never seen a body so perfect. He was gorgeous.

  Miguel stepped up on the coping, executed an equally beautiful jackknife, and surfaced right next to her. His black hair was swept back by the force of the water, and his gorgeous face was covered with droplets that sparkled in the sun. He put his arms around her and kissed her hard and deep. His tongue conquered her mouth, and she found herself clinging to his chest for support. She might have sunk if he hadn’t had his arms around her. She was speechless. This was better than a
ny fantasy.

  “My beautiful one. I’m glad you are here.” He took her mouth again before he stroked to shallower water where he could stand. He peeled the shoulder straps of her suit down until he had her naked in his arms. She bounced once on her toes and sprang up to wrap her legs around his waist.

  “I’m glad to be here.” He claimed her mouth in the most sizzling kiss she had yet to share with him. She was so hot she thought the water should be steaming off her skin. The cream was gathering between her pussy lips as she ground her center against his steel-hard cock. “This is moving a little faster than I had intended, Miguel,” she said tentatively.

  “I know, querida. There are some things we need to discuss, but right now…” His hands glided down her back and cupped her ass as he moved to lean her up against the side of the pool.

  “Can anyone see us?” She was nervous about being naked out in the sunshine in full view of God and anybody.

  “No one can see us here. Besides, all of the staff is gone for the long weekend. Only the stall cleaner will be here first thing in the mornings to feed and clean stalls, and then he will be gone. We will have total privacy.”

  He dipped his head to take her mouth again. His tongue swirled around hers, and she ground herself against him. The buoyancy of the water made keeping contact difficult. She felt his magic fingers find her clit and circle it firmly in tight circles as they matched the swirling action of his tongue in her mouth. Oh, God. The feeling was so intense she didn’t know if she could stand it. She threw her head back and gave him her throat on a moan.

  “Querida, are you on the pill?”

  “Yes. Do we need a condom? I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

  “No. We will be fine. I just had a checkup.” With that important but not very romantic bit of business taken care of, he plundered her soft lips again. He lifted one hand to hold the back of her head, positioned his shaft at her opening, and plunged in. He rode her with her back braced up against the side of the pool. Each heated stroke lit a fire inside her. Her pulse began to pound. The sun warmed her shoulders while the cool breeze sent goose bumps cascading down her spine. He began to speed up the pace of the thrusts into her hot, aching pussy. Her need was building. It was hot, hard, and fast. She couldn’t get enough of the delicious friction as jolts of desire seared her core. She felt as though she was leaving her body. Finally after hanging by her figurative fingertips from the ledge, she fell over into a long, shuddering orgasm that left her breathless.

  * * * *

  Miguel slowed his strokes as he watched her eyes squeeze tightly shut. He finally let go and blasted his essence into her hot, slick cunt. He was still hard so he picked up the rhythm again and brought them both to another pulsing orgasm. Ah, heaven—or is it going to be hell if I have to give this woman up when she knows my secret?

  He held her tightly to his chest as he stroked the wet hair off her face. He kissed the skin over her cheekbones and down her neck. He felt her body temperature beginning to drop. “I’d better get you out of the water and warmed up. Then we need to talk.”

  When he had wrapped her in a big, thick, sun-warmed towel, he deposited her on one of the chaises. “Would you like something to drink? Coffee? Soda?”

  “Coffee would be good, thanks.” He wondered if she really wanted the coffee or just wanted a couple of minutes to process. He went into the kitchen and set the coffeemaker to brew.

  When he came back out with the pot and two cups on a tray, he said, “Are you okay? I really hadn’t planned for our first time to be so slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am.” He grinned. “But at least we’re over that first awkward moment. I promise you more romance the next time.”

  “I don’t think anything you do could be awkward, Miguel. I’m fine. Actually, that was pretty special. I’ve never made love outside before.”

  He set the tray down and handed her a big mug. She cupped the warmth in her hands and he continued. “Well, then we have a lot of things to explore. Speaking of exploring… There are some things about me that I need to share with you. I hope you will hold them in the strictest confidence because my career could depend on your discretion.”

  “Of course, Miguel. You can tell me whatever you need to. Just please don’t tell me you’re an axe murderer.”

  “No, nothing that bad.” He took a deep breath and plunged right in. There was no sense in delaying the inevitable. “Gabriella, my family is a bit unusual. As you know, the Gatto line originated in Medieval Spain and came to Puerto Rico in the early 1600s. Most of the men in my family have—I guess you could say—extreme sexual tastes.” He watched her face carefully. She didn’t jump back in horror, but listened intently so he continued. “I believe you are acquainted with The Black Iris Club. I know your friends, Kaylin and Chloe, are both engaged to members of the club. Do you know what goes on there?”

  “Yes, Miguel. I know what goes on there. I haven’t been there myself, however.”

  “Okay. Not to draw out the suspense, but I am also a member. I would classify myself as a sadist, although some people I have talked to about this don’t agree that I am a classic sadist. I do enjoy the inflicting of pain for pleasure—not always extreme pain. I tend to shy away from masochists who enjoy extreme pain, but that pathology is a part of my psyche. I have to be honest with you and tell you that I will want to spank you, maybe whip you, and play other sexual games that may border on the uncomfortable. I would hope that you will trust me enough to try the things I want to introduce you to. If you don’t like them, we don’t have to do them again. You would always have a safe word and could stop whatever we were doing with that one word.”

  “I had wondered if there might be something like that going on with you. Despite your European manners, you have a certain vibe about you. I was talking to Kaylin a few weeks ago, and I wondered if you were a member of The Black Iris Club. I asked her, and she said she had not seen you there. Your revelation doesn’t surprise me. I’ve had some scary tingles a few times in your presence.”

  “I scare you?” This surprised and dismayed him. He didn’t want her to be afraid of him. He wanted to bring her unbearable pleasure seasoned with some light pain.

  “Maybe better words would be stimulate or excite. I’ve had some rather unusual thoughts myself since we started to work together. I couldn’t explain or identify them exactly. I don’t know if I will like what you are talking about, Miguel, but I think I might want to try it.”

  “To be honest, this was not the reaction I was anticipating. I was afraid you would be horrified.”

  “I’m not horrified, but like I said, I can’t promise to like it—although I think I might. To say I have been confused by my own feelings and fantasies lately would be an understatement. Kaylin and Chloe’s recent experiences might have played into that. I don’t know.”

  “Let’s start slowly then and take it as it comes. If I do something you don’t want to continue, you will say your safe word. Do you want to pick one out now?”

  She looked confused for a minute and then said, “How about peanut butter?”

  He laughed. “That would be fine. Peanut butter it is. Many people also use the color system. If I ask you how you are doing you can say ‘red’ for stop, ‘yellow’ for slow down or pause to get your bearings, or ‘green’ for good to go. How is that?

  “I think that would work.”

  “Then we might take a walk down to the barn after dinner. We’ll feed the horses and then investigate my dungeon.”

  “You have your own dungeon? I thought you would just take me to The Black Iris.”

  “Of course I have my own dungeon. I’m a Gatto. We’ll see how it goes. We might try The Black Iris eventually.”

  * * * *

  Gabby spread her towel and lay down on the chaise. Sunbathing in the nude was another new experience. She could hardly do that on her deck or on the patio at home right there on the Intracoastal. People would be selling tickets. The only similar experience she’d had
was when she and the girls sunbathed topless at Kaylin’s pool in Rio Vista, but that wasn’t the same thing. Miguel sat on the chaise beside her and carefully rubbed 45 SPF suntan lotion into her back, butt, and legs.

  “I wouldn’t want you to get a sun burn, querida. If you are going to have a red butt, it is because I am going to give you one.” He chuckled and gave her butt a sharp slap before he moved to his own chaise.

  “Ouch! We’ll see about that, Sir Gatto.” She glanced over her shoulder and saw the grin spread across his face. He had definitely enjoyed that smack. She had fantasized many times about being across his lap with the sharp crack of his hand ringing in her ears and the hot feel of his palm on her butt. Just the thought made her wet. She shouldn’t like that. Right? After Kaylin and Chloe had become involved with members of The Black Iris Club, she had done some reading about the BDSM lifestyle. Some of it had been factual, clinical material, and some of it had been erotic fiction. It was sometimes hard to tell which was which. She did find herself somewhat fascinated by the whole idea.

  “The correct form of address would be ‘Don Gatto,’ although most people don’t use those antiquated forms of address any longer. Señor Gatto would be more usual.”

  “Am I going to have to call you that in the dungeon?” She was just a little worried about that. Kaylin and Chloe had joked about sub protocol, but she didn’t think she had absorbed enough information from their joking around.

  “Don’t worry, querida. I’ll let you know what you need to do.” When she looked over at him stretched out naked on the chaise with the sheen of suntan lotion on his skin and his damp hair on his forehead, her mouth began to water. He was just so fucking gorgeous. And that adjective was totally appropriate since that was what they were going to be doing all weekend. She wasn’t sure she would survive almost five whole days of Miguel Juan Carlos Gatto-Alba.

 

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