A Sugar Daddy’s Secret

by Kathleen Hill

  "Yes," I told him as his hand settled on my groin. "I am all yours."

  "Say it again," he told me with a stronger tone.

  "I’m all yours. I am your queen, your lover, your wife," I told him. He snarled at me, and I found myself aching for him, wanting him to explore every inch of my new body with his.

  Maurice tore away at the corset, popping each hook with his solid fingers. I found myself completely bare in front of him, and I hissed at him playfully before running him into the wall, leaving a circular dent where his head hit. I began to remove his clothing piece by piece, savoring this moment where we would come together as husband and wife for the first time. There would be no drunken influence and no third person to get in our way.

  Finally, I got to look at his bare body with new eyes. There was no way I could keep my hands off of him now. But as I went in for a kiss, he disappeared out from under my grasp, landing on the bed with his swiftness. He wanted to play games.

  I grinned mischievously at him before chasing him, landing in a crouch on the bed. But he already flew to the window, wrapping himself up in the black curtains.

  I growled angrily at him, letting him know I was none too happy about this wild goose chase. I wanted to feel him inside of me. I was a greedy queen, and I needed him to fulfill my desires.

  Then, before I could go for him, he came at me, crashing us both down onto the bed. I could feel the springs collapsing below me, but I didn’t have a care in the world at that moment. The two of us wrestled, each of us wanting the dominant position on top before he pinned me down and plunged his hard shaft deep inside my wanting center. I gasped in ecstasy, getting all of the best sensations and none of the pain. My body was made for these moments now; ideal for sinful pleasures behind closed doors with my new forever husband.

  We continued our struggle of sorts, sometimes with me working my hips on top of his and others with him holding me down against the failing mattress. We exchanged blood over and over, mixing our essences just as we had our lives.

  My orgasms and my screams shook the whole room as I quivered to completion all night and then all morning long. I didn’t know how long we had gone without rest, but I didn’t think I needed it. I didn’t want to close my eyes and find that it had all been one amazing dream or delusion.

  But Maurice coaxed me after the millionth time into the sweetness and complete darkness of a vampire's sleep; much like being dead. But I found that I often dreamed; dreamed of his touch and his lips, until we awoke the next night to discover each other all over again.

  THE END

  Bonus 20 of 20

  Love Thy Enemy

  Description

  Viktor Krovia was the son of a prominent mafia leader who served under Brazil’s lawless mafia king. At the age of seventeen, his life changed forever. He has been biding his time, under Santos’ rule, to seek revenge on the ruthless mafia king who destroyed his family. It was time to take over the clan and claim Santos’ daughter as his prize. He would use her to gain the position of mafia king and to find his niece who is his only living relative. Will Viktor’s emotional scars reveal a different angle to his fury?

  Leighton Santos was the daughter of Brazil’s mafia king. She was a privileged, spoiled, and beautiful child. Her life was turned upside down when she was forced to witness her family and trusted guards murdered by a childhood friend. She became little more than a prisoner in Viktor’s home and was expected to produce an heir with her family’s executioner. Was there more to Viktor’s actions than she was aware of? Was he simply pushed to a breaking point? What if he’s not the enemy?

  Chapter 1

  Viktor Krovia paced the floor of the concrete bunker. It was the only secure space he could use to address his loyal followers. His boss, the fear inspiring mafia king known only by his last name of Santos, had spies and surveillance everywhere else. The time had finally arrived to exact revenge for the destruction of Viktor’s family. Working for the man he hated was torment, but his anger and pain had served to keep him going. Over the years, he had gathered other mafia members who found Santos to be unscrupulous and without a conscious. These men would join in his takeover.

  Viktor faced the congregated men and decreed, “Santos must be exterminated today like the vile, poisonous spider he has become. No one in his empire can remain, with one notable exception. Leighton isn’t to be harmed. She is necessary to our future. With her as my mate, I will take the reins as mafia king and change the way business is handled. No longer will loyal followers take the fall for the actions of their king. I will answer for my transgressions and defend my people. The party tonight will bring all the powerful leaders into one room. We, of course, will be part of the invited guests. When Santos raises his glass to toast his latest victory, we will attack. Allow me to annihilate Santos myself. Leighton is a spitfire and will fight. Control her with care. Her locked sanctuary in my home is ready to receive the mafia princess. No expense has been spared for her comfort. However, her freedom will be limited. She does not know of her father’s treachery and will seek to kill her captor. She must be tamed. Until she transfers her loyalty to me, be wary. It’s time to leave. May we prevail!”

  The Santos’ mansion was a fortress on a Brazilian mountain overlooking the beauty of the Atlantic Ocean. It would be impenetrable for any army, except the one the king inadvertently invited inside to celebrate his prowess. Viktor was greeted by the mighty king himself. His graying hair and widening girth were in sharp contrast to Viktor’s dark hair and sleek, muscular physique. Both men wore expensive designer suits, Viktor’s white and Santos’ black to lessen the appearance of his extra weight. Santos welcomed Viktor with a handshake and the words, “It is good to see you, my boy. You haven’t graced my home with your presence for so long. I was beginning to get anxious over your lack of attention.”

  Viktor’s smile showed his perfect white teeth and showed no sign of his hatred. He enthusiastically returned the handshake and replied, “You have kept me busy. My attention to your orders is the allegiance I show to you. Never doubt my ability to handle your realm. You have my full, undivided attention this evening.”

  “Good. Do not forget who rules over this domain. You must never stay away too long. I need to see your face to assure myself of your loyalty. I pride myself in being able to sense doubt in my men.” Santos patted his back and moved on to the next arrival.

  Obviously, Santos’ abilities to find dissention in the ranks was not as acute as he thought. Viktor spotted his compatriots spread throughout the ballroom. They nodded to him almost imperceptively. All were in place for the final act of disloyalty.

  Leighton reined over a group of admirers near the bar. Her plump red lips left their mark on the champagne glass she held carelessly in a slender hand. She wore a gold dress that plunged to a deep V in the front and back. Her admirers were held captive by the visible curves of her creamy breasts. She spied Viktor and raised her glass in a salute. She had no idea that the man she had considered her childhood friend was about to turn her world upside down. It would never occur to her that her father could be defeated. Her life was one of privilege and beauty. She remained untouched by Santos’ dealings. Treated as a princess, she saw nothing of the blood that stained her father’s hands.

  Viktor made his way across the floor and asked, “May I have this dance?”

  Leighton replied, “There’s no music, Viktor. It’s not that type of celebration.”

  Viktor raised his eyebrow and said, “It’s a ballroom is it not? I can make my own music. You used to as well. Are you too grown up for a little fun or just too jaded?”

  “Careful, your insolence is showing. Besides, we would look like fools and Father wouldn’t approve”, she retorted.

  “You’ve never cared about his approval, so why start now? How many times did you defy his rules as a teenager, a hundred, a thousand? What’s a simple dance between friends?” he asked.

  “Not now, Viktor. Father’s a bit touchy tonight.
I don’t want to rock the boat. He’s about to make a toast anyway. Here, take a glass of champagne and join in the celebration.” Leighton reached behind her and picked up a full glass from the bar. She handed it to Viktor and thus started the events that would alter her destiny.

  Santos stood at the front of the ballroom. His booming voice rang out, “My loyal men, I salute your victory. Once again you have made me proud. We have acquired another profitable business on the coast. It will bring a tripling of our profits. It’s a shame the former business owner decided to leave our shores for an unknown future. He could have stayed and served me. I would have paid him for his loyalty, but he sought another route. A far bleaker one. Ah well, it is of no matter. We got what we sought. Raise your glasses and toast to our victory!”

  The signal had come. Viktor’s men pulled their weapons and attacked. Leighton’s screams echoed throughout the ballroom.

  Chapter 2

  Taken by surprise, Leighton’s bodyguard never had a chance to draw his gun. A bullet stopped his heart and splattered blood on her golden dress. Her horror grew as guards and mafia elite fell all around her. Chaos ensued and Leighton momentarily lost sight of her father. Gunshots continued as she cowered behind the bar in hopes of eluding the perpetrators. Strong arms came from behind and wrapped her in their embrace. A handkerchief covered in a noxious aroma slammed over her nose and mouth. She kicked at her attacker and jabbed her elbows into his gut causing him to grunt in pain. Still, he held tight. As he dragged her from the bar, she spied her father. His guards were dead at his feet. A gun was placed at his temple. The gun was held by none other than Viktor. Her eyes widened when she realized her friend’s intention. A scream of denial rose in her throat, but was cut off by the handkerchief on her face and the explosion of the weapon against Santos’ head. It was the last thing she saw before the world went black.

  Viktor left the blood bath to his followers. His job was done. The mafia took care of its own problems, so he didn’t worry about police involvement. Takeovers performed in this manner were not unusual. This one had taken longer to happen than most. Climbing into his car, he discovered the unconscious Leighton and her kidnapper already there. His car roared to life and he sped down the mountain. The tinted windows helped hide his cargo as he raced over the city streets to his home on the hidden beach.

  Leighton awoke in a strange room. She was cradled in the softness of a down comforter. For a brief moment, she relaxed in its fluffy comfort. Her brain refused to allow her to remember what had brought her to this place. Her eyes closed and she snuggled deeper. A rancid smell brought her back to reality. Noxious fumes mixed with a sharp copper aroma came from her dress. She abruptly sat up. The golden dress was torn and had brownish splatter down the front. She recognized it as dried blood. The night’s horrors returned with a vengeance. The blood belonged to the bodyguard she had trusted all her life. He had once played hide and seek with Leighton and her friends and taught her how to hit a baseball. Now he was dead. The invincible Santos was dead as well. His brains had been blown out by a respected clan member, her childhood friend Viktor. She was alone. No other relatives existed. Her mother had died from cancer when she was still an infant. Falling back to the bed’s softness, she let her sadness overtake her. Sobs wracked her body until she fell into an uneasy, exhausted slumber.

  Viktor discovered her that way when he unlocked her door. He stood over the bed watching her breathe. Tears had left trails of mascara down her pain ravaged face. Her lovely dress was ruined by the blood stains. He drew in a breath to ease the ache in his chest. Leighton’s losses were the one thing he regretted. He wished there had been another way to avenge his father’s death and that of his sister, but Santos would never change or beg for forgiveness. Involving Leighton in the takeover was a necessity. Without her at his side, the mafia would not see him as the king. There would be a war for supremacy, one that he could not afford. His power was limited to those few loyal men who had aided him that night. To gain the loyalty of others in Santos’ kingdom, he would need Leighton to declare hers. It would be an uphill battle after his betrayal.

  Viktor gently wiped the hair out of Leighton’s beautiful face. His demeanor must change when she awoke. He could not risk her learning of his pity. It would be a weakness she could use against him. If others became aware of it, they could destroy his only chance at ruling the mafia.

  Viktor jerked his hand back as Leighton stirred. Her brown eyes opened and a screech emitted from her throat. Her hands became claws and she jumped from the bed. She attacked his face and he grabbed her wrists. Her claws caught his neck, leaving bloody streaks in their wake. He threw her on the bed, but she bounced right back up and came for him once more. Her feral growl brought Viktor’s bodyguard. The man tackled her to the floor.

  Viktor demanded, “Stop it Leighton! I don’t want you hurt. Be still. You can’t win this battle.”

  “You stand there wearing a suit covered in my father’s blood and expect me to believe that you don’t want me hurt? You’re insane! I will fight until I get my freedom. You can’t control me,” she shouted.

  Viktor grabbed the front of her dress and tugged her up from the floor. Nose to nose, he declared, “You will stop this nonsense. You’re in my domain and under my rule. I will be obeyed. You will suffer no harm as long as you behave. Fight me and you will be sorry.”

  “I’m already sorry. I should never have been your friend or trusted you in any way. I’m sorry I ever laid eyes on your face, sorry that I took pity on you when the FBI killed your father and sorry that you were too young to be held accountable for his actions.”

  Viktor replied, “I’m sorry you never learned the truth about your father. If you had, there wouldn’t be so much pain in your eyes. You might even have helped me pull the trigger. He had you fooled. You had the luxury of being sheltered from the real mafia king. I didn’t. Go ahead and cry for your losses. You don’t know any better. I’m sorry for what you will eventually learn and the shock you will feel.” He turned to leave, then added, “Take a shower and wash away the blood. There are clothes in the closet and towels in the bathroom.”

  Chapter 3

  Leighton experienced a restless and disturbing night. Sleep eluded her for the most part and when she did manage to catch a few winks, nightmares haunted her. She relived the moment the first shot rang out over and over. If she hadn’t frozen in that instant, could she have stopped Santos’ death? Should she have seen Viktor’s anger all these years?

  Dawn had barely broken when the door to her prison opened. Though her quarters were definitely luxurious, she had discovered that they served as a prison. When Viktor had left the room on the previous night, she had tried to follow him, but found the room was locked. She had her own large bed, a sitting area with a fireplace, a well-appointed bath room, a flat screen television and a closet filled with fashionable clothing. Yet, it was still a prison.

  The man who entered carried a breakfast tray. It held an enticing bowl of fruit, toast, eggs and a carafe of coffee. The aroma of coffee made her want to swoon with desire. She ignored the offerings anyway. She would not give Viktor the satisfaction of knowing he had provided her favorites. The man held out a cup of the prized liquid and she spitefully knocked it from his hand. As it crashed to the floor, Viktor walked in. Her chin rose in defiance.

  “Don’t be rude to the servants. They have done nothing to you. You’ve made extra work for someone who has no idea why you’re angry. You’re acting like a spoiled child. It was cute and tolerated when we were kids, but will get you nowhere now. Eat and dress in something nice. I will be back for you in an hour,” Viktor declared.

  “I’m not going anywhere with you. You can rot in hell first!” Leighton yelled.

  “

  “Fine,” Viktor replied. “I had imagined you would like to be at your father’s burial. I was going to have him interred in the family graveyard beside your mother. It was to be out of respect for you. If you do not wish to go,
then so be it. I can toss him in the sea without regret.”

  Grudgingly, she answered, “I’ll be ready. I’m not doing it because you command it, but to honor my father.”

  “Whatever you wish to tell yourself is fine with me,” Viktor stated. “By the way, don’t try to convince your guards to let you go or give them a sob story. They are not Santos’ allies and they don’t speak Portuguese or English, so don’t bother wasting your melodious words.”

  Leighton threw a strawberry at his head. He easily caught it and laughed at her fury. She had always found Viktor to be exasperating. Until now, she had thought their games of wit to be fun. Now, they just infuriated her. She especially hated the fact that she still found him attractive. He was cruel and ruthless, yet he was as handsome as the devil.

  Wearing a simple black dress and heels, Leighton dropped a rose into the grave. It landed on the silver coffin among a bevy of others. The large spray of red roses was a tradition in the Santos family. She had Viktor to thank for that tribute. He remained solemn faced and far from the graveside. She didn’t understand his hatred. Deep inside, she knew there must be a reason, a dark secret that was hidden from her. Santos had kept the seedier side of his business from the tender ears of his little princess. He had given her everything her heart desired. Had he been a different man to his clan? She was determined to discover the secret.

  Viktor had left her to the guards for transportation. She had been driven in a Hummer, while he led the way in his custom Lamborghini. The silent trip to the grave had made her nervous, so she ignored Viktor’s warning on the way back to his complex. She tried to engage the guards in conversation using Portuguese and English. They didn’t respond. Instead, they began talking to each other as if she didn’t exist. She was surprised to hear them use Italian and pleased to note that she understood some of it. Her affinity for learning languages on the iInternet was paying off. She was embarrassed to note that they referred to her as a whining bitch. At this point, it was probably an accurate description. She heard Viktor’s name and listened closer. They spoke of his father as a soft-hearted dupe for Santos’ transgressions. He had disagreed with the mafia king’s way of acquiring wealth and businesses, which usually turned to murder when his underwhelming offers of payment were refused. The guards claimed Santos turned Viktor’s father over to the FBI as a replacement for himself, along with a substantial bribe to insure his immediate death. This also relieved him of a less than loyal compatriot. Leighton did not want to believe what she was hearing. She held on to the possibility that her translation was incorrect.