That same hand splayed itself between her hips, fingertips millimeters away from very intimate territory, holding her in position for his other hand to apply five crisp smacks to those lusciously rounded cheeks.
He was of a mind to rub the sting away, but instead, remained behind her and pulled her back against him, her bottom settling just below the rampant evidence of his desire. "Don't pull away from my touch, Ally." Scolding and serious but not sharp.
She didn't think her nipples could get any harder, despite the fact that he'd renewed the atrocious sting in her behind that had just barely begun to calm, or probably because of that. He was behaving like a textbook Dom—like all of the ones she'd read about when she was lonely and alone and wanting him and terrified to admit it, knowing she could never, ever have him. Ally could feel the flood gushing between her legs, but she was torn. This was wrong! She shouldn't become involved with him this way. It would just complicate everything about her life—and his!
But she wanted it. She wanted him. More than enough to throw caution to the wind. Just this once. Just to see what it would be like to have him. To let him have her. To surrender to him the way she'd always wanted to with the other men she'd allowed to discipline her, although something always held her back from doing so.
And he was that something. She didn't want to experience that kind of submission with anyone but him. She'd known instinctively that, with anyone but him, it would be a thoroughly disappointing experience.
But he was as different from those wannabe Doms as pizza was to a wedding cake. Enzo hadn't asked for permission to punish her. It would never occur to him to ask. He'd just done it, because it was what he'd seen fit to do.
And, as much as she rarely admitted it to herself, and never, ever to him, he had been exactly right when he'd supposed that it was just what she'd needed. He was just what she needed.
Enzo stood behind her now, watching them and her alternately, as his hands slowly, excruciatingly slowly, made their way up from her hips, over a quivering tummy, his fingers discerning her ribs and almost tickling her, then, finally, settling where she'd wanted them to be all this time—cupping her breasts firmly, not tentative in the least, rubbing the sides of his thumbs over their smooth sides, then around to the top and down just slightly, but still not taking what was right there, what was straining and plumping and aching for him.
His first touch of her nipples was depressingly underwhelming as he pressed his palms over them, massaging slowly.
Ally did give in to a childish impulse and stomped her foot this time, only to hear him chuckle at her.
"Someone is impatient. Luckily," he whispered against the tender back of her neck, "someone's not in charge. I am."
He dragged his fingers over them and then his palms, but avoided them completely at times until Ally reached behind her and took his cock in her hand and felt quite satisfied as he jumped against her fingers and groaned.
"I thought that might get your attention," she purred in a self-satisfied tone, stroking him slowly.
She did not expect the crisp swat that had her yelping and abandoning her pursuit in favor of trying to cover herself. "Put your hands by your sides, Allegra," he growled into her ear, then nipped it somewhat less than playfully.
She did as she was told grudgingly, still hoping that she had made her point.
But instead, he took her hand, and after kissing the back of it, he began to lead her in the direction of what she knew was the only bedroom on this floor.
It was enormous but sparsely furnished in various shades of gray, cream and maroon. Once inside, he closed the door, then turned to her with a very determined look in his eye, enough so that she began to take a step back for every one he took forward until the backs of her calves met with the edge of the bed.
But he didn't stop coming towards her, bearing her down onto the bed with a thigh between her legs, keeping them separated when she would have preferred to close them against him to maintain some sort of defense against being totally vulnerable with him. But trying to didn't make it happen. He wasn't taking the hint. In fact, he'd moved them up the bed to the pillows, all the while keeping her open to him until his head could take the place of his leg.
That had Ally in a full-blown panic, reaching down and trying to urge him away—which was like trying to move a brick wall—but also trying to twist herself out from under him, neither of which worked, and the only thing she succeeded in doing was getting herself close to being in trouble yet again.
He had batted at her hands to discourage her from trying to dissuade him, smacking the backs of them, but then he just rolled her over a bit and swatted her backside instead.
"You are not to interfere with me when we're in bed, Ally." He said it as if he expected that this was only the first time of many! "Unlike your parents, I think you have a good idea that I won't hesitate to dole out unpleasant consequences if you displease me with your behavior."
She froze in place immediately from the heady combination of the threat of another spanking and his deep voiced scolding, not to mention the fact that he sounded as if he thought this was going to be the first time of many. She wanted to continue to wrestle and eventually get away from him, but she knew those for the pipe dreams they were. He was much too big and determined, and she had a feeling he'd never let her go.
And, she quickly realized that wasn't necessarily such a bad feeling—especially when she let him roll her back over and found his lips inches from the spot she so desperately wanted them to claim, having to fight the desperate urge to offer herself up to him lewdly.
But before he did that, while she was splayed open, a leg trapped over each of his shoulders, he reached up and began to play with her nipples. She sighed in unselfconscious bliss as he pulled and pinched each of them, to the perfect point just shy of pain, then backing off and becoming gentler, but only for a very short time, repeating the cycle every few minutes.
She was so wrapped up in what he was conjuring within her with those masterful fingers that the feeling of his mouth closing over her already engorged clit caused her to start violently. His hands immediately came down to hold her thighs in place as he began to mouth her eagerly.
Despite the ample evidence that he did not consider that doing this to her was a hardship in any way—unlike most of the men she'd dated—Ally began to concentrate single-mindedly on the pursuit of her orgasm, finding it amazingly close. And having had the unfortunate experience that most men would stop doing what he was so generously and so exquisitely just shy of having brought her off, she tended to try to come as quickly as she could.
But he backed off as soon as she began to moan more frequently and, instead, introduced two crossed fingers within her, making her keen with the pleasurable yet challenging effort of accommodating them. It had been a while. It had been a long while.
Enzo watched her more carefully than he'd ever watched anyone he'd taken to his bed, and he did his best with every woman to be a considerate lover, but this was Ally, and he wanted to make sure that every second of it was amazing. She had sounded a little distressed when he'd pressed his fingers into her and considered removing them, but then she hadn't asked him to stop and her breathing had become even more ragged as he'd begun to pump them in and out of her, fiercely, from the start.
As he fucked her hard with his fingers, he watched her face avidly, and the tension in it concerned him. "Ally, you have to tell me if you don't like something I'm doing to you or if I'm hurting you—and I don't know it. I won't necessarily stop, but I definitely want to know."
That garnered another long, low groan. "Enzo—uhhhhh—oh—dear—God!"
The unfettered ecstasy in her voice had him swelling nearly to the point of bursting. Making her cry out like that with pleasure was practically enough to set him off with her having barely touched him. He felt as if he'd hung the moon to get that kind of response from her, and yet he'd barely begun to make love to her.
She was panting and st
raining, though, as if she was trying to grab the brass ring already. "Not so fast," he cautioned, withdrawing his fingers over her very vocal protests and, ignoring eager hands that were trying to keep him there, crawling up her, dragging himself over her until he caught himself at her cleft and sank into her, holding her legs spread wide over his arms and pumping smoothly, powerfully, in and out from the start.
Suddenly, he realized why she was so eager so quickly and settled himself fully atop her, his face buried less in the pillow and more in those wonderful curls of hers. It nearly killed him to do it, but he stopped thrusting into her and simply lay quiet, nibbling her earlobe. "I want to taste every inch of you, you know. And eventually, I will. And I want you to taste every inch of me—some inches more than others."
He felt her smile.
Then he framed her face with his arms and looked down at her—her face was flushed and she, too, was still panting. "I want you to indulge yourself with me. There's no clock in my head timing how long it takes for you to find your pleasure. I would suckle at your clit for days on end, spend weeks just playing with your breasts or kissing you—and someday, I intend to actually attempt all of those records and more. Not that there won't be ample times when I'll take you the moment we're in the door—or maybe even before, in the back of the limo, the backyard, or wherever the mood strikes me—hard and fast and urgent." He'd begun moving again and the feelings that inspired silenced him as he slipped his hand down between them to press two fingers between swollen lips to simply lie against a clit made just that much more sensitive and vulnerable because of his imposing presence within her.
Ally was practically beside herself, completely overwhelmed by him and all of the sensations he was flooding her body with. She was seconds from rapture, yet seemed miles away at the same time because his movements were nothing but unbearably slow and deliberate. Nothing she did seemed to encourage him to hurry things up, either, and she thought she was going to die from the raw wanting.
She was so unbearably frustrated that her hands came up without her even realizing it and began to beat an impatient rhythm on his shoulders until he captured one on either side of her head, pinning them to the mattress and continuing that slow deliberate torture—sliding all the way in until she knew she could take no more and resting there for one or two beats, then removing his presence from her entirely, leaving her feeling almost bereft of him until he finally began the oddly gentle assault again, those fingers not moving in any way on their own but merely in tantalizing coordination with his cock.
She could feel the edges of her world beginning to thrum, to vibrate in that special way, but she'd never experienced it so fully before and the sheer intensity of it made her almost afraid of her own orgasm for the first time in her life.
Enzo was doing his best to concentrate on her, but while he was doing so, he was startled to realize that he was almost there, himself. But then he saw—really saw—the edges of fear creeping into her eyes. He didn't abandon his hold on her hands but stayed them in another manner, putting his own arms across hers so that she was just as trapped, but giving himself the ability to cup her face and kiss her, tenderly, reassuringly, at first, but then much less so as he could see that the fear had receded and he could no longer resist the dictates of his own flesh and quickened his pace.
He had wanted to watch her at the moment of her greatest pleasure, but he didn't have the mental capacity to do it; he was too lost in his own paradise, mindless with the need to fuck her. Not that he didn't feel her come around him—she bucked and writhed and arched up to him, granting him even deeper access to her body, which he immediately took advantage of with no compunction at all, her spasms prompting his, making him throw back his head and growl as he pumped himself into her.
Chapter 4
Enzo's face landed on the pillow next to her, and that was where it was going to stay for at least a moment or two, maybe longer. He wasn't at all sure he could have moved, even if Maury burst in the door to say that a turf war had broken out on his front lawn. He couldn't think, either, knowing he should have been doing something for her or to her, something that would help her know things she probably didn't want to know from him. Things he wasn't at all sure she should know. He wasn't much of a fan of making himself vulnerable, and she was still a rival. For now.
Eventually, he rolled to one side, keeping an arm over her until he'd settled himself on his side next to her and recovered a bit. Then the hand that had claimed her tummy moved down to the part of her he'd just claimed in the most elemental of ways. His middle finger had just begun to slip between her lips when her much smaller fingers wrapped around his wrist, doing their level best to stop him.
He stopped, because he was curious about just how far she'd go with this but didn't point out the fact that he knew she was already well aware of—that she couldn't stop him. She didn't have the strength, or she would certainly have put an end to the spanking she'd received earlier.
He didn't say anything but simply caught her eye and raised his eyebrows.
She scowled fiercely, and he thought she was going to earn herself another trip over his knee.
"One." It was a simple word, but he knew at her indignant gasp that she had caught on to what he was doing.
Less than a minute later came the deadly neutral, "Two."
Her grip tightened, and he thought the stubborn little minx was going to let him get to three, but then it relaxed and she removed her hand, seconds before the point of no return.
As soon as she'd released him, his finger attained its intended goal, resting atop her still enormously swollen clit and rubbing very lightly.
Ally wanted to snatch his hand away from her more than she wanted to do anything else in the world, but she also knew that she didn't want another spanking.
She couldn't take another one, considering the condition her poor rump was already in. She had no choice but to lie there and let him molest her as he watched her reactions intently, so much so that she had to close her eyes against him in the only act of defiance he would allow, it seemed.
He patiently and determinedly brought her to three more orgasms, something none of her other lovers had ever bothered to even try to do, and frankly, she had never bothered to ask. Most of them had just rolled over and gone to sleep once they'd gotten what they wanted.
At her last huge culmination, one that had her feeling dizzy and lightheaded, he pulled her back against him to spoon, with his heavy hand around her waist and his semi-hardness nestled against the small of her back.
"Sleep, beautiful. More to come—so to speak—in the morning, after we've both had a good rest."
Despite how exhausted she felt, Ally's mind had begun racing as it did sometimes after sex. Enzo was already breathing slowly and steadily behind her, but she was trying to think of how all of this worked out, and she couldn't see anything anywhere near resembling a happy ending between the two of them. It just wasn't done.
So, instead of falling asleep as she knew he expected she would, she kept all of her senses revved and bided her time until he rolled away from her in his sleep. She didn't leave, even then, though, because she knew he'd be in a lighter sleep for a few moments. She gave him fifteen minutes or so before she slipped out of his comfortable bed and away from his warm embrace to dress hurriedly, and pantiless—she'd left the wreck he'd made of them right where they'd landed when he'd thrown them away—walked to his nearest neighbor, whom she knew always kept a small skiff with an equally small outboard motor available at their private dock until it was nearly winter.
The Wellingtons wouldn't mind if she borrowed it, she knew, especially since she'd done it often enough while she was growing up and they'd never been the wiser—and they'd been in residence, then, too, whereas the house was dark now—not shuttered yet, because there still might be some nice weekend days when they'd come out to camp, but definitely not occupied.
Even so, out of habit, she rowed away from shore onto the darkened lake so
as not to tip him off more than anyone else, only starting the motor when she was well out into the lake, then making a beeline for the lights of Mendleson's Marina, which she knew would be open for at least another month or two for those who preferred to vacation at a time when they could avoid the crowds of tourists, and also for the convenience of those who, like Enzo, lived there year 'round.
Tanya Mendleson D'Agostino was one of her best friends—they had gone to school together—and she happened to be manning the convenience store her family owned and ran that was right off the dock. Ally didn't get to see nearly enough of her, so she stopped in on her way, both to chat with her and to ask her to make sure that the Wellington's skiff got back to them, if she would.
Bless her heart, although she gave her friend a curious look, she didn't pepper her with all of the questions Ally knew she was dying to ask—like why she was here so close to closing time, why had she "borrowed" the skiff of a next door neighbor she no longer had, why, why, why.
As she was about to leave, Tanya asked, "Hey, when can we get together for a girls' night? Maybe some poker or we could go into town to see those male strippers who are coming here next month?" Tanya shook and ground her hips in a hilarious imitation of any of the male leads from Magic Mike.
Smiling broadly for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Ally said impulsively, "It's a date. I'll get us tickets—can you see who from the old gang might want to go with us and text me with the number?"
"Definitely!"
They said their goodbyes as she slipped into the limo, having called her driver as soon as she'd docked.
Her second in command, Frank Antonelli, was proving a bit harder to deal with, questioning her more closely than she thought he had a right to about where she had been all night when she got in touch with him the next morning, and she didn't hesitate to call him on it.
He looked dumbfounded and almost angry at the rebuke but didn't mention the situation again, which was all she required. She'd chosen Frank from a bevy of candidates for the position because he was a bit older, reminding her somewhat of her father, and he tended to be very level headed and calm and had a lot of experience in the business that some might say caused her to lean on him a bit too much. But his reaction to her being incommunicado last night, even though it wasn't something she'd done since she'd taken command of the family, she didn't think, was way out of hand, almost smacking of something like jealousy, an idea that Ally found preposterous, dismissing it and the incident from her mind in favor of diving into the work that was in front of her.
Transgressions Page 4