"Yes," Jimmy confirmed, watching this man. As a priest, he had to maintain confidentially, didn't he?
"Grazie a Dio," Benito asked. "Although I'd be happy to do the deed myself, if needed. Julio and I have different opinions about many things, but we agree that the death penalty is sometimes appropriate."
"Any chance he'll ever be found?" Paolo asked.
It was a practical question. "He disappeared while on vacation in Canada. Rosalia has just returned home without him. She didn't quite know what to do when he didn't return to the hotel." Jimmy tipped his head. "Yes, her passport is stamped properly. His is missing, however, along with his person and a large amount of cash from their bank account. The resort has billed his credit card for the stay and meals. She also has an Uber driver who will testify if needed that he drove her from the Oswego marina to the house. She came to me for help when she arrived home this morning." He looked at Gio. "Margot had instructions to brief her but as you were there when I arrived, I haven't had time to verify that she was accomplished." Jimmy cleared his throat. "As to whether he'll ever be found, my people assure me that it is highly unlikely that any of what remains of him will be identifiable. Do you want specifics?" Ricardo's body had been cremated and the remains deposited over the bed of the St. Lawrence River.
"Unnecessary," Gio dismissed. He nodded at Gregori, who withdrew an envelope from his suit and set it on the conference table in the back of the limousine that they were seated around. "We had this prepared for when it was appropriate. A death certificate for Ricardo Dinapoli, whose remains were found near Marettimo, one of the islands off the Sicilian coast. Oddly enough, his passport and an identification card survived his drowning, according to the report. They were pinned inside his suit jacket in a plastic bag. The coroner presumed he fell from a yacht or other seafaring vessel. His remains, per established custom in Marettimo, were cremated following the coroner's examination. The certificate is properly filled out and signed. We have the coroner's pen and only need to date it. I suggest that it be dated two days ago. After it was signed, it was delivered to Ricardo's in-laws in Sicily, two evenings ago. Frederico immediately got on a plane and flew with it to New York, arriving yesterday morning, so that he could inform our cousin personally of the tragedy. It seems clear that Ricardo fled Canada, perhaps with false ID, and flew to Italy where he met someone and got on a seagoing ship, at which point he either drowned at someone's hands or by accident. A motive for his behavior is unknown. Perhaps," Gregori smiled viciously, "he was having an affair."
Jimmy raised his brows but did not touch the envelope. He watched as Frederico extracted the certificate, handed the pen to Gregori, and waited as Gregori signed it without touching. Frederico then replaced the certificate in the envelope and handed it to Jimmy.
Nodding, Jimmy murmured, "Can I assume Rosalia or someone you have bribed in my family has informed you about what happened to Rosalia before Ricardo disappeared?"
Gio chuckled, but hedged his answer. "Rosalia gave us a bare rundown of events – that he kept her locked in the house, had cameras on her everywhere, even the bedroom they shared, though no recordings, refused to let her out alone or have money, beat her regularly."
Jimmy nodded. "Before we return home, I believe we should drive past a horror house." He explained.
They seven men were all gratified by the sight. Jimmy promised them that his men who lived in the neighborhood would find it mostly burned in a few hours and call the fire department.
But when they returned home, Rosalia was gone.
Well, not gone. She had locked herself in the basement room and nothing could convince her to let him in. His mother stood guard, and when he argued, she told him to go upstairs and go to sleep. "She's tired, and she'll see you tomorrow, Jimmy," she repeated herself. "Let her sleep."
He was going to spank that girl.
SIX
Rosalia woke with a grin on her face, despite the early hour. She knew it wasn't even dawn yet, but she showered anyway. When she was finished, Margot and Jimmy's mama were already waiting with breakfast. "They just woke Jimmy, and he was pissed. I believe Gio told him to stop acting like a spoilt brat and he'd better get up to scratch if he wanted to see you today," Margot told her.
Jimmy's mother shook her head. "You know I think you are wonderful for organizing this in the space of four hours yesterday. I just hope Jimmy isn't too upset."
"Don Savaggio is going to love it," Margot predicted. Rosalia smiled at her, and let the other woman pamper her after she brushed her teeth. Margot styled her hair and applied her make-up while Signora Savaggio tapped out text messages to the men upstairs.
"Your parents are arriving now, Rosalia," she reported. Gio says your father just met Jimmy and told him thank you, then added that you are his princess, not Jimmy's. Jimmy apparently started to get irritable, but Father Julio interceded before anyone said anything to be regretted. But they didn't give anything away."
"Oh dear," Rosalia laughed. "I'd better get that gown on and we should do this before he stalks downstairs and sees what you all did to the basement rec room last night."
The gown was a whimsical baby doll dress. It had lace straps and the back was nearly missing, but it was December in upper New York so there wouldn't be any outside celebrations anyway. The dress, both underdress and lacy top layer, only went just past her knees. No bra could be worn with the garment, not with its plunging neckline, but it was designed with cups that gave her breasts enough of a boost to make them noticeable. She wore white silk panties from Fleur of England and red Manolo Blahnik pumps Margot assured her Jimmy would love. Rosalia wasn't convinced Jimmy would care one whit about her shoes, but at least Margot loved them.
God, what if he didn't want to marry her? What if what he'd said about bringing a priest in had just been a bluff? He hadn't asked her, hadn't put a ring on her finger. She doubted he had a ring for her. She'd asked Margot get one for him, though, and she prayed he'd be willing to wear it. They hadn't talked about that, either. All she really knew is that he intended to get her pregnant. But both Margot and Jimmy's mother were convinced that Rosalia was right, and Jimmy was intent on marriage.
Her hands shook as she took the bouquet that had arrived in secret at four in the morning: red roses with the stems wrapped in white lace. Jimmy's mother settled the long veil edged in lace over her hair, which Margot had insisted remain mostly loose around her shoulders. A small tiara had been pinned in to hold it in place.
"You are gorgeous," his mama pronounced.
"Thank you, signora," she whispered.
"Francesca," his mother replied, hugging her gently. "Now let's get you in position and Julio can bring everyone downstairs."
Rosalia waited in front of the fireplace. The mantel was a lush wilderness of roses. Rose petals were strewn over the floor. Large vases of the flowers stood on each side of the fireplace, that looked out of the lower level of Jimmy's home, with a view of Lake Ontario. Rosalia's nerves tightened.
"They're getting in the elevator: your parents, Jimmy, Julio and Gio."
Rosalia took a deep breath. The furniture had been re-arranged so that Jimmy could see her and walk to her directly from the elevator at the other end of the long, open room. She waited until everyone filed off in front of him, stepping to the side one by one until he was the last one. She supposed they all wanted to see his expression.
His gaze suddenly locked on her, and he froze. She shook, her mind racing, knowing this all could go so wrong. He didn't make a sound, but prowled toward her. The room fell silent. When he stood in front of her, just staring at her, his gaze going up and down her body, she finally asked, "Did you mean it yesterday? When you said if I was agreeable, you'd have a priest –"
"Dio," he said. The reverence and fervency in his voice calmed her. To her surprise, he dropped to a knee in front of her, clasping her hands around hers and the bouquet. "Will you truly marry me, be mine?"
"Sì," she whispered, and suddenly there we
re tears on his face. "Subito," she added. Immediately.
"Grazie de Dio," he muttered. He stood, stepped close to her, careful not to crush the flowers, then leaned forward and whispered in her ear. "I am going to spank you, mia rosa. And none of these wonderful people are going to stop me."
"Sì, don Savaggio," she whispered back. "But you have to marry me first."
"Gladly," he returned, and took her – gently – by the elbow, sliding his hand inside hers and resting it on her forearm. He looked around, and Rosalia realized that all of their visitors, and more, were crowded around them: her parents, his mother, her cousins, Margot, his mother's companion, the guards who had rescued her, and more of the men Margot had said would want to bear witness to their marriage.
"Father Julio," Jimmy said. "Would you do us the favor and honor of marrying us?"
Julio nodded. They shifted as he stepped forward and drew his prayer book from the inside of his suit, and Rosalia felt the pain of the last months slide away, and joy replace it.
Hours passed before all of their guests left, however. After the ceremony, there were photos – a photographer Margot knew arrived just as the ceremony began – and the caterers from the night before returned with a breakfast buffet. Rosalia's parents didn't want to leave, but they assured her that Margot had organized a luxury beachfront home for them and her cousins a few miles away. They were staying for a few days and would return as soon Rosalia called. Lanz, Jack, Frankie and Danny were actually the hardest to dismiss, even after the Lombardis disappeared upstairs to the apartment they lived in over the garage.
Eventually, Jimmy took her by the hand and put her in the elevator, leaving the other men behind. But when they stepped off the lift, Jack was already there, shadowing them. "It's his job," Jimmy explained.
"He doesn’t need to hear us having sex," she whispered.
Jimmy grinned. "Or you getting spanked," he agreed. "But it's inevitable, you know. They will learn to live with hearing you cry out in pleasure."
Thankfully Jack didn't follow them through the door to the master suite. Jimmy locked it, a simple turn of the doorknob lock that she could easily undo herself, and guided her across the room to the big bed. "I keep warning you about the spanking, and you haven’t said no," he said carefully, turning her and lifting her chin. "I will never use a belt on you," he added, "but I would like to turn your bottom – and only your bottom – pink with my hand. I want to see if it arouses you when I take charge of your body, when I worship it with pleasure or a bit of pain. I do not want you to be terrified or to doubt my word to keep you safe, so I will only do this if you agree that I can. Aloud. If you are afraid, I will happily find other ways –"
"I agree," Rosalia broke in. She bit her lip, but added, "I don't know if I'll like it or not, but I will try anything with you. I trust you, to stay in control. I know what Ricardo did was out of control, violent. You would not –"
"No, I would not," Jimmy agreed, turning her and bending her over the side of the bed. It had a bright red silk duvet cover, and Rosalia gripped it in her hands. "Dio, you are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, Mrs. Savaggio, and I am going to enjoy this dress to the hilt before I strip it off of you."
Rosalia whimpered, but she felt the layers of silk and lace scraping the back of her thighs as he lifted the dress. He hadn't seen her butt the night before, she thought. Maybe he wouldn't like it as much as her front.
That was a silly thought. She knew immediately that he did. His hands were reverent, even worshipful, as he traced her curves back again to repeat it, outlining her panties with his fingers and urging her thighs apart until he had access to the silk that covered her wet folds. Still wearing her heels, her ass pushed up in the air, she felt completely under his control, even though she knew she could be on her feet in two seconds and leaping away.
She didn’t want to run away. She wanted his heavy hand on her backside. Jimmy moved to the side and pushed one hand under her pelvis, holding her in place, and brought the other one down in a firm smack.
"Oh god," she moaned.
"My name is Jimmy," he taunted her, taking his hand away and smacking it down again. He made sure to rub her through the silk and repeated the motion five more times, while she whimpered. The smacks got harder, and she squirmed.
Jimmy squeezed her pubis, using the hand he was holding beneath her. With his free hand, he fingered her through the panties. As she'd known, he found her wet and hot, the thin silk already soaked. "Good girl, you like this," he murmured, the low voice a clear indication of his own arousal. "Now tell me, how did you get out of that room yesterday?"
Rosalia whimpered, but raised her bottom against his hand. Obligingly, he smacked her again a few times and rubbed until her soft hum of anxiety turned into a low moan.
"Tell me, mia rosa, or I'll stop and it will be time to sleep."
"That's cruel," she whispered, wriggling her bottom, begging without words.
He smacked her rear and waited, until she sighed dramatically. "It wasn't that hard, Jimmy. You brought my handbag. I took out multi-tool I keep in it and unscrewed the hinges. Signor Lombardi re-hung the door while I was on the phone with my cousins."
At that, Jimmy smacked her again, and rewarded her by sliding his middle finger deep inside her sex, pushing it in and out until they'd both forgotten about the mechanics of breaking out of Jimmy's basement. "You ready for me, beautiful?" Jimmy asked as she stretched and pushed against the two fingers he now had inside her.
"Yes," she admitted. "Jimmy, I want to make love. I want you inside of me."
"Fuck yes," he agreed. "More of this later, though, mia rosa."
She wobbled as he helped her stand, waited as he unhooked the back of her dress and dropped it to the floor. He lifted her free of the lace and laid her on the bed, bare now except for the expensive scrap of white silk. She pushed it down as he flung aside his suit jacket and unbuttoned his tailored shirt.
"Those are mine, mia rosa," he grunted, reaching out a hand and stopping her. "I'm taking them off, and after that, you only wear them if I give them to you. Understand?"
Rosalia whimpered at the dark promise in his voice. It was a sound she'd never made before and didn't understand now, but he liked it. It made color rise in his face and his cheeks sink inward. And it made his cock lengthen and harden more than it already was, although she hadn't really thought that possible.
He had his trousers and boxers off now and used one of his hands to stroke himself. Rosalia used his words from their times together before. "Come to me, Jimmy," she asked, spreading her thighs and his arms.
Jimmy wrenched down the panties at that, pulling them off her ankles before kneeling between her legs and lowering himself onto her. "Dio. When I saw you by that fireplace, my heart nearly stopped. You are beyond anything – anyone – I've ever known, mia rosa."
Rosalia shifted, lifting her hips, encouraging him. He resisted, intent on exploring her. Where before he had slid down her body and spent endless time between her legs, this time he was insistent about kissing her. He started with her jaw and neck, then her collarbone. When he made it to her breasts, she cried out in surprised delight, arching and twisting as he nipped and sucked. How he did it, she didn't understand, but when he uttered the magic words, "Vieni per me, mia tesoro," and pinched her nipples, she exploded into sudden bliss.
"Fuck me," she begged, the ache inside her abdomen sharpening even as the pleasure faded. "Please, I need you inside me, Jimmy."
"Yes," he agreed, shifting against her, repositioning himself and his hands to hold her in place. He surged into her, so hard that she felt the bed move. Rosalia wrapped her legs around his hips and tried to hold him inside her, but he only rocked back and thrust again.
She agreed with this course of movement, and urged him on. "Jimmy, Jimmy," she chanted, wave of wave after pleasure rushing through her at each thrust.
"Ti amo. Vieni per me," he said against her lips, and the rocking pleasure became a fire
ball out of control, burning her insides.
Tears streaked down her face but Rosalia could do no more than shudder violently as he came inside her.
When he rolled over, taking her with him so that she laid on his chest, he repeated himself. "Ti amo, Rosalia Isabelle Savaggio. I don't know if that was a legal marriage or not, but we will sort that out. You and I, we're together forever."
"Ti amo," she whispered. "Yes, keep me forever."
ABOUT ELLE Q. SABINE
Elle is an author of erotic romance, or romance that contains erotic content. The romance – the falling in love – is the beautiful part of the story. The erotic content is the interesting part. Elle lives in the great state of California with a devoted Mr. Sabine and a golden-haired daughter. If she had spare time, she'd like to sleep at night, visit museums, and spend more time with the Pacific Ocean.
Elle is a feminist, a LGBTQIA ally and a charitable giver. She donates a portion of her very small writing income to charities that support human beings, the environment, science and health, including the ACLU, Planned Parenthood and local arts education. She believes science and evolution are real, that God exists, and that these beliefs are not mutually exclusive. She knows that Americans have been to the moon, that September 11 was not a conspiracy, the Holocaust happened and Nazis in America are a scourge on our national identity. Elle's daughter has been vaccinated and Elle survived her birth because of twenty-first century modern medicine. Elle buys organic groceries and lusts after Sweet Tarts, tortilla chips, blended salsa and avocadoes made into guacamole. She has her family's addiction to cheese and watches college football whenever possible on Saturdays. She's in awe of Hamilton and worshipped at one of its temples, but fell in love with her first musical, Annie, at six years old. Elle is from a family of German immigrants who displaced Native Americans in pre-Civil War America to establish farms with federal land grants and found a town in the rural Midwest. She's been privileged to grow up in an iconic middle-class Midwestern ranch style home with two parents, a dog and a younger brother. Someday Elle will spend a summer in Europe. Until then, she will dream of Italy, Spain, Switzerland, Austria, Germany, France, Belgium, the Netherlands, Hungary, Norway, Sweden, Finland, England, Scotland, Ireland and other countries she'd like to visit.
The Don's Rose Page 5