Just as he raised his hand to spank her again, her feet inched apart. She got the smack he was going to deliver anyway—he would never accept half measures from her—and more, until her legs were wide apart, when he left off the spanking and carefully placed his closest leg between hers and cupped her pussy at the same time.
Ally couldn't help it. She didn't let go of the coffee table and she didn't move away from him, but her head reared up and her entire body did its best to arch with surprise as if his hand had delivered an electrical jolt. The sopping crotch of the panties was easily pushed aside in favor of his fingers.
"Allegra Cerone!" he gasped. "You've soaked through your panties!"
There was nothing she could do about that, and the light censure in his tone only made things just that much worse, causing Ally to dance in place in embarrassment—to say nothing of sheer frustration.
Fingers delved between her lips to discover even more of a revealing tribute to how he was handling her. "Oh my God, I can feel your cream practically running down my wrist!"
Ally wanted to crawl under the table, but she didn't—barely.
"I guess someone really enjoys being spanked, huh, despite all of her protests." He brought his palm down onto skin that was already at the color he'd mentioned before, but this time it was with just enough snap to be only a few levels harder than a pat. He wasn't punishing her. He was trying to show her that not all spankings were for discipline. Some of them—given in the right manner—could be very exciting, although it seemed as if she already knew that. At least, her body did.
"No!" It was an automatic response.
Enzo chuckled softly. "I'm afraid I've discovered quite a bit of evidence to the contrary, Ally." He paused a moment then asked in a suspicious tone, "You wouldn't be fibbing to me about that, now, would you, Ally?"
Her answer was immediate and quite strident, lest he decide to spank her for lying. "NO!"
He chuckled again. "All right. I believe you."
Those probing fingers slid partly up inside her with relative ease, considering how open he was requiring she hold herself, and she gave a guttural sigh from the joy of being filled by something, even it wasn't his cock. But her relief was short lived as they moved onward and upward to capture that impudently swollen clit and stroke it in an annoyingly slow fashion, as if he was lazily rubbing a cat's nose.
"Enzo!" she yelled, trying to move against his hand without actually breaking position.
The fingers stopped immediately. "I suggest you rethink that tone quickly."
Ally almost growled aloud, but decided against it. "Pleeeeaaaassssee!"
Much less demanding.
He said nothing but continued teasing her off and on for so long that she thought she was going to find herself collapsing onto the coffee table. She had never been so thoroughly teased in her life—she didn't know if her other lovers wouldn't do it because of who she was or what, but Enzo seemed to have no such problems taking firm control of her. Unfortunately for her.
Then, suddenly, he withdrew from her and lay down on the couch on his back. "Take off your panties and come here."
Barely able to move, the muscles in her legs like noodles, she complied slowly, but somehow managed to place herself astride him in one piece, noting that, again, he was fully clothed and she was naked except for her bra, and Enzo reached up and relieved her of that, cupping and squeezing the flesh he'd revealed.
But that wasn't what he wanted. "Move up. I want you to sit on my face."
Ally looked thunderstruck at what he'd said. That was one of the few positions she truly didn't like. It felt uncomfortably aggressive to her, as if she was imposing herself on him for the purposes of her own pleasure, and, sexually, at least, that went against her grain.
But she was—slowly—beginning to learn that it wasn't a good idea to challenge Enzo, even by passive resistance. So, she huffed and groaned and generally made a fuss about it until she found herself with a knee on either side of his face. The steady heat of his breath had her vulnerable clit at attention like it never had been before, and, as his lips closed around it and began to suckle, she had to grab the top and arm of the couch to steady herself—she was already feeling faint, and he'd only just begun.
"You taste like raspberries," he breathed against her, and even that had her half contracting.
His hands weren't lazy while his mouth was so busy, either. Those rough fingers were pinching and pulling at nipples that were loving every second of it, swelling and throbbing for him, begging for more. He seemed to know the exact right pain to pleasure ratio, sometimes extending just a bit beyond where she was comfortable but quickly returning to coax her back into the light with more tender touches.
She arched herself away from him—out of his limited reach—several times, accidentally, completely given over to the throes of what he was doing to her, so his hands eventually left her breasts in favor of holding her hips down so that she had to surrender control over the most intimate, sensitive area of her body to him to do with as he pleased.
The next time she began to move away, a hand reached down and cupped a bottom that was—surprisingly—thrumming nicely along with the pulsing in her pussy. It added to her enjoyment rather than detracting from it, and that was all down to him and his particular talent.
And then, she felt a crisp smack and relaxed fully back down to him.
And another smack fell—shaving just the slightest edge off her excitement.
She wouldn't have believed it if he'd told her, but he could have postponed her orgasm indefinitely by doing just that.
Unfortunately, she had a good idea that he already knew that.
He kept her there, riding the razor's edge of paradise, and no amount of pleading or begging or even threats could make him budge. And the threats proved to be a very bad idea. In response to those, and to let her know that they would not be tolerated, he withheld his mouth from her but didn't stop spanking her, and it was as if he'd thrown some kind of switch and it morphed into a serious spanking as he delivered painful swat after swat until he could see a tear drop onto her breast.
Then he opened his mouth again and began to soothe her, his right hand cupping the cheek he had so recently scourged and squeezing occasionally. He could tell by her irregular breathing and the tempo of her moans that she was seconds away from coming and he decided to let her—this time, anyway. Perhaps the next time, he wouldn't be quite so generous.
He did everything he could with his mouth to ensure that she felt every sensation he was giving her to the fullest—rubbing, flicking the tip of his tongue and stroking the flat of it over her until he felt her body tense incredibly and she threw her head back and screamed as if he was tearing her in two.
Enzo kept her there through three more amazingly explosive orgasms, then flipped her over and beneath him, reaching down to release himself only seconds before driving into her, in real danger of losing control of himself before he found his goal. The moment he fully laid claim to her, he lost it, himself. Watching her come like that was something he'd never forget. He wanted it to be like that for her every single time, and he usually got exactly what he wanted, one way or the other.
He screamed her name when he came—not what he'd planned to do, but that was what happened. Neither of them mentioned it in the aftermath as he cradled her against him.
"What do you have to snack on? I'm hungry."
Food was the last thing on Ally's mind, but she tried to sit up a little more—not that he was letting her—and think. "I have bagel chips and cream cheese, tortilla chips and a very good salsa, uh, peanut butter and chocolate ice cream."
He was panting at everything she'd mentioned almost as hard as he did while making love to her.
Was that what they were doing? Making love? she wondered. Or were they just 'bosses with benefits'?
She didn't feel like pursuing that line of thought at all. He had reacted so eagerly to what she'd listed, she asked, "So, everything?"<
br />
Enzo nodded eagerly.
Ally reached for her clothes, but he began to tug them away from her. "You're too beautiful to wear clothes."
He didn't look at all happy at her derisive snort, or at the fact that she was still holding on to her end. "Drop. Them." He enunciated frighteningly carefully, and while his eyes bore into hers, full of the promise that she'd soon be holding an entirely different end if she didn't stop being so willful.
Her fingers released them long before her mind told them to. Her mind wanted to argue with him. Her bottom—still more tingly than stingy, but she knew that could change on a moment's notice—didn't, and her fingers sided with her behind, apparently as her clothes fell from her hands and she turned to get them a nosh.
After they'd sated themselves—or rather, he'd sated her yet again by refusing to allow her to feed herself, but instead keeping her on his lap and feeding her from his hand. He'd thought she might object to that, and he would have to give her a lesson in obedience, but she surprised him by relaxing in his arms with her head on his chest and letting him feed her what he would.
She did, however, refuse to eat any more, long before he would have stopped offering. "If I keep eating like this, I'll get fatter than I already am."
"You are gorgeous," Enzo said in a manner that did not invite discussion.
And he was already getting heartily sick of her derisive snort, especially when it called into question his good taste and her looks, so instead of letting her leave him to take their leavings back to the kitchen, he caught one of her wrists and removed the bowls and bags from the other one to set them on the coffee table. Then he gave one good tug and forced her off balance in a manner that he controlled completely so that she landed directly over his lap.
"Hey! This isn't right!" she complained loudly, trying to get up.
"Stop." One word. It was all he needed to say. Ally ceased struggling immediately, recognizing the vulnerability of her position, especially since she was still naked.
His palm took up residence over the fullest curve of her bottom.
"It occurs to me that we have several things we need to discuss."
She'd thought he was one of those men who didn't like to talk! Her heavy, put upon sigh didn't earn her points, but rather a stinging smack that had her humiliating herself by yelping.
"Firstly, I won't put up with talk like that."
She was smart enough not to pretend she didn't know to what he was referring.
"Secondly, I want you to know that, since we'll be sleeping together this evening, I expect you to be there in the bed, next to me, when I get up."
Ally couldn't suppress a soft chuckle. Putting one over on Enzo Matroni wasn't an easy thing for anyone to do, but she'd done it. Her sense of self-satisfaction was well worth the series of swats he gave her.
Sort of.
"How'd you do it?"
"Do what?" she asked innocently, not all that interested in telling him how she'd accomplished it, in case she needed to do it again.
No response except by that unbelievably hard hand of his, relentlessly delivering vicious smack after vicious smack until she practically screamed it. "I borrowed the Wellington's skiff and crossed the lake to Mendleson's!"
Instead of stopping, the spanking picked up pace in both frequency and intensity of swats as he realized how much danger she'd put herself in that night, just to get away from him. "Do you mean to tell me that you crossed the lake by yourself, in the middle of the night, without anyone knowing you were out there if something had happened?"
Oy. Ally bit her lip. Serious tactical error on her part—she didn't usually make them, but she didn't think so well around him—never had, and it seemed to have gotten worse since they'd become intimate. Much worse, and it always seemed to result in her getting into trouble.
Besides, at the time, all she'd wanted to do was to get away from him, and she'd accomplished her goal.
But she wasn't at all sure it was worth it, considering the fire he lit and fanned the flames of in her backside. She kicked, she twisted, she tried to rise up, but he ruthlessly suppressed every attempt to stop the spanking and made sure her bottom didn't miss a painful beat. Despite how mortifying it was to her, he managed to reduce her to abject tears in a very short amount of time, not that that inspired him to curb the punishment in any way.
No, he spanked her until he thought that he'd impressed upon her the idea that she was not to put herself into that kind of danger.
When he stopped, she lay limply over his legs, and he could see the large, dark wet spot her tears had formed on the maroon couch.
Chapter 6
With his hand still covering her seared behind, he said, "If I ever catch you doing something so stupid again, I'll use my belt."
Ally swallowed hard, still snuffling and sobbing like a baby, but, as much as she wanted to, she had the presence of mind not to try to get up.
"I know this is kind of a unique situation, the two of us getting together like this, but I intend it to continue, I love…" he stopped just shy of saying he loved her, not wanting to do so until he was more sure of her feelings, so he said instead, "…having you like this—or, frankly, any other possible way. I love spanking you and fucking you and eating with you and dancing with you. I laugh more with you than with any other person. You know me, I know you. Maybe not as well as we should, considering how intimate we've been—and I consider spanking to be a very intimate act—but we know a lot about each other, if not really recently."
He waited for her to say something, but when she didn't, he went on, "I respect what you've done with your family. You're not huge, but I have no doubt that, one day, you'd get there."
She didn't notice what tense he'd used in the last part of his sentence. She was still trying to deal with the throbbing burning he'd caused, and it was very nearly overwhelming what he was saying.
He patted her bottom gently, his voice soft as silk. "Your father would be very proud of everything you've accomplished. It wasn't the life he'd envisioned for you, though, you know."
Ally nodded, tears running down her cheeks for an entirely different reason now. He'd helped her, taught her as much as he could in the time that he'd had left, but she knew that he would have preferred if she had done something legitimate, rather than something that could get her thrown into jail for big chunks—or even all of—her life, to say nothing of the ever-present threat of being murdered so that someone else could take what he'd spent his lifetime building.
Enzo cleared his throat, having gone off on a tangent he hadn't intended to. He wanted to talk about the two of them, not get into her family and then, ultimately, the concerns he had about some of her people. One, in particular.
She was lying directly over his groin, and it had perked up as soon as her soft weight settled on it, becoming more and more insistent on his—or better, her—attention.
"I want you," he stated boldly. He liked to get things out in the open as much as he could. Sometimes business situations dictated that they not be, but overall, especially in his personal life, he liked everything above board and honest. "And now that I've had you, I only want you more, because when I'm not inside you, I know what I'm missing."
She began moving at his words, not trying to get away, but writhing, her actions teasing him with possibilities.
Having decided not to declare his feelings for her, he wasn't at all sure it was the right thing to do, but he decided to go with his gut. It had rarely failed him, and there was another level of feeling he had for her that was at least as strong as love, but different It was possession, pure and simple. "You are mine now, Allegra. You have been since I first told you I was going to spank you if you crossed the line I'd drawn in the sand, although you didn't know it then."
Enzo paused, waiting for the explosion he'd half expected from her. She wasn't a submissive woman, at least not in her business dealings. She couldn't be without having been eaten alive—pretty literally—by the compet
ition.
Ally knew she should be protesting what he was saying—loudly, and with everything she had. She should be giving him an earful about how she was a boss and she was the one who gave the orders and watched other people jump to accomplish them.
But it wasn't true, at least, not here, with him.
And she just couldn't. What she wanted to do and what she should do were warring within her—it was just the scenario she'd hoped to avoid by leaving so early that first night they were together. She had no idea what was the right way to handle this—although she could imagine that it was to extract herself from whatever it was they had and never see him again, but she wasn't at all sure she was strong enough to do that.
It was funny, but being submissive to him somehow made her feel like a stronger person overall. More of her needs—her personal, most intimate needs—were being met by him in a manner that was better than had ever been addressed before in her life, and she was loath to do what she knew needed to be done—what she should have been strong enough to do before they became involved—walk away. Now, it had become impossible for her to consider doing that.
Enzo was surprised by her silence. He'd seen her open her mouth and try to speak several times, but nothing came out, so he was going to forge ahead. He always preferred to assume that things were going to go his way, and he wanted her in his life more than he'd ever wanted anything. She was perfect for him, and he would have every bit of her that he could get in any possible manner he could get it—and he, in no way, ruled out, as she had said it, herself—'nefarious intentions'.
Ally, who was still processing what he was saying, started suddenly, having come to the conclusion that he was depressingly right! Her last relationship had ended right about the time they'd had their little confrontation and he had threatened to spank her!
Transgressions Page 6