Virgin: A Mafia Billionaire Romance

by Shanna Handel

I lean down, my face inches from hers. “Stand up and get yourself to the back of the plane. Right now.”

  “No way!” She crosses her arms over her chest. Her gaze nervously scans the crowd to see if anyone is witnessing this embarrassing display.

  “Do it now, or I’ll punish you here. Right here. In the middle of this plane. With all eyes watching.”

  She studies my face, calculating if I’m a man of my word. Apparently, what she sees there convinces her I’ll do as I say. Which I will. Slowly, her face turning a light rosy shade, she inches past me, careful not to touch me. I step back into the aisle, allowing her to pass. She juts her chin in the air, trying to maintain some shred of dignity, and marches bravely past the handful of seated brothers to the back of the plane.

  I follow her, watching her round ass swish beneath the fabric of her loose cream-colored dress. An ass I’m going to take a lot of pleasure in punishing. She reaches the dead end, unsure of where to turn. I hold the door to the oversized, luxury lavatory for her. “In here.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding.”

  “Have you found me to be the joking type?”

  She eyes me warily. Then eyes the room. “But in the bathroom? It’s so... humiliating.”

  “It’s the only private place. Would you prefer—”

  Before I can finish my statement, she eyes the seats full of brothers and disappears in the lavatory.

  I enter behind her, locking the door. She’s facing me, her hands braced on the sink behind her. “You don’t have to do this, you know. I am sorry. I understand the importance of keeping the documents secure, now.”

  I cross my arms over my chest and her gaze contemplates the size of my biceps. “That may be true, but you don’t understand the concept of obedience.”

  “To be fair, you never said I couldn’t take them back.”

  “Do you really want to be making this silly argument, right now?” My hand casually goes to the buckle of my belt.

  Her eyes widen and she swallows hard, seeming to have trouble with the simple act of breathing. Or speaking, it turns out when she responds with a long string of stutters, “I... ah... um...”

  “Let me guess. Never been spanked before?”

  She bites her bottom lip and those wide doe-like eyes stare up at me, adorably terrified. It hardens my cock. I ignore the surge below my waist and grab her arm, turning her around so that she’s pressed against the sink, facing the mirror. I hold her there. Her fingertips dig into the sides of the counter, her lower stomach pressed into the edge. She’s frantically looking at me in the mirror and suddenly she’s full of fight, saying, “I’ll scream, I’ll call for the brothers, I’ll—”

  “Honey. They all know who’s in charge. You think they’ll come to your rescue? They’d only come to watch.” That snaps her jaw shut. “Now, be a good girl and take your punishment like a lady or you’ll find we have other ways to punish naughty girls. Ways you don’t want to know about.”

  There’s a hint of terror in her face and she swiftly becomes compliant. So she’s heard whispers from the other women about our sleek metal plugs. “Yes, sir.”

  I’m surprised by her submissive words. Coming from her high, lilting voice, they cause more discomfort as my balls rise to the occasion, constricting with lust. Her dark hair falls over her face as she stares down at the sink. I tuck a strand behind her ear and say, “Look up.”

  I want her eyes on the mirror. Watching her own reactions to the punishment as well as seeing me spank her. She calculates my intentions and in her cheeks is a lovely pink. She’s biting her lip and shifts her weight on her feet, squirming.

  Already wet.

  The tango that goes on between a dominant man and a submissive woman—there is nothing sexier in this world. And with a woman like Adrianna the only way to earn their full obedience, submission, the traits we need in order to keep them safe in this dangerous world, is by powerfully mastering their bodies.

  I’m going to enjoy this.

  My hand comes down hard on her full bottom. It lands with a satisfying slap, her flesh jiggling beneath my palm. Her first ever spank. It’s my privilege to administer this—

  She releases a deep moan, right from the center of her core. I catch her gaze in the mirror and her lids are heavy, her brown eyes are filled with lust. I was not prepared for her response. She should be fighting, begging, crying for me to stop.

  Not teetering on the verge of an orgasm.

  My cock pulses, my trousers getting tight. Who knew hidden within this little bookworm was a wild cat waiting to be unleashed? Never mind her heated response—I’ve got to focus on the task at hand. Reddening her ass. Teaching her a lesson. Breaking through the pleasure to the real pain... the pain that will have her thinking twice before she chooses to disobey.

  I strike again, much harder this time. My open palm lands on the center of her right cheek with a loud smack, her plush derriere jiggling on impact.

  “Ow!” Her face flies over her shoulder. She’s looking at me in disbelief. “That hurt!”

  “You’re getting the idea.” I bring my hand down again, same spot but on the left side. Even harder. She jumps, her hands going to protect her now stinging bottom. I easily trap both of her wrists in the loop of my hand. “Tsk, tsk, darling. No blocking.”

  There’s a wild look in her eye as she finds my gaze in the mirror. “I... I... I’m sorry!”

  It only took three spanks and she’s starting to get the message. But I’m afraid there’s too much at stake to not teach her a proper, thorough lesson. Best to start the trip off with a red ass and a few tears than have her later disobey me and risk her safety. I tighten my hold on her wrists, pinning them safely out of range on her lower back. I slap her ass, my palm moving upward, delivering a nice stingy smack to the underside of the curve of her right butt cheek. Then do the same on the left. I pick up a steady rhythm, right, left, right, left. Soon, my palm is warm and tingling.

  Her eyes squeeze shut tightly, her head lolling back. A whine is rising in her throat. “Oooooooow!”

  I can’t help but think what a naughty little girl she looks like, her hands trapped, dancing from tiptoe to tiptoe, her light dress swishing. Time to see that beautiful ass bared.

  I lift that pretty little skirt, tucking it into the waistband, exposing white cotton panties. The sight makes my jeans further tighten. I spank that curvaceous naughty little bottom a few more times over her virginal panties. She’s squirming and whimpering. My fingers of my left hand wrap tighter around her wrist. My right hand goes to the waistband of her panties. She freezes. In the mirror, her wide eyes reflect back her horror.

  Slowly, I peel those panties down. I can see the tan lines from her bikini bottoms she wears on the beach. Her beautiful creamy flesh is pink where I’ve spanked it.

  She shudders, a low “Nooooo” escaping her lips.

  Now I switch to hard, flat-palmed paddle-like spanks in the center of those bare gorgeous globes. Picking up my speed, keeping that rhythm. Right side, left side, right side, left side. Enjoying the satisfying sting on my palm. “This is nothing. Just my bare hand. Imagine if you were stretched out over my lap. Your panties down around your knees. My leather belt whipping your plugged ass.”

  She gives a gasp, her eyes locking on mine. “No. No! I’ll be good. I promise. I’ve learned my lesson. Pleeeeease...”

  She’s squirming and pleading and I’m just trying to decide if she’s had enough or if I’m going to take my belt to her when I hear a sound that makes every muscle in my body rigid.

  Gunshots.

  I snap her panties into place. Flip her skirt down. Grab her shoulders. Turn her toward me. Lock gazes with her. “Stay here.”

  She gives me a nod, her eyes wide from the sound of the blasts.

  I give her one quick glance over my shoulder. There’s a pain in my chest at the thought of leaving her, but I’ve got to see what’s happened and I know she’ll be safer in here. “Don’t move, Adrianna.”
<
br />   “Okay...”

  I push the lavatory door open without making a sound. I scan the cab—it’s empty. I creep to our seats and noiselessly open the overhead compartment. Pull my bag from within. Throw it across my chest. Open the leather flap and slide out my gun. Unlock the safety and cock it. There’s a sound behind me and I whip around, gun pointed and ready.

  To find Adrianna’s face, blanched white, her hands over her mouth.

  I lower the gun, rush to her side. “I told you to stay!”

  “I... I’m sorry. I just... I couldn’t stay in there by myself.”

  I wrap my arm around her. She’s shaking. There’s no way I’m leaving her now that I know I can’t trust she’ll stay out of harm’s way. “Shh. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. Just stay close by my side.”

  She nods and I pull her in closer. Her delicate scent reaches me. Roses.

  I lead us to the rear exit of the plane. The door’s been unlatched and it’s partially open. Pushing Adrianna behind me, I ready my gun. Keeping my face hid as much as possible, I survey the scene outside the front of the craft.

  It’s pandemonium.

  The brothers from the plane are scattered. There’s men I don’t recognize, running around the cargo of the plane. More shots are fired. I can’t be sure but it looks like Rockland wasn’t the only one after that cargo we were taking to New York.

  I only have one thought in my mind.

  I’ve got to get her to safety.

  I look to my right; the rear of the jet is quiet. There’s no one back here where we are, all the action being concentrated at the front of the plane. I pull her next to me, wrap my arm around her once more. “Listen to me.”

  Her eyes find mine. They’re wide with fear. I reach out, smooth back her tousled hair. “Stay right by my side. If I tell you to run, I want you to run as fast as you can into the woods. Stay along the edge where you can see the shore. Run until you get back to Rockland’s house. Get inside and set the alarm. The damn thing’s a fortress. You’ll be fine until I can get to you.”

  She stares at me, unable to respond. Her lower lip trembles.

  I give her ass a sharp slap. “Adrianna. Answer me. Tell me you’ll run to the house if I tell you to run.”

  The spank wakes her from her fearful stupor. She nods, saying, “Yes, Dante. I understand.”

  “Good. Stay close.” I open the exit door just enough to get us through.

  A hand shoots toward us. Grabbing at Adrianna. Her scream tears through me. Adrenaline rushes through my bloodstream. My body moves without thought, defenses coming to me as easily as breathing. My fingers circle around his wrist removing the vile hand from Adrianna. I watch his face twist in horror as I bend his hand backwards, the snapping sound of his bones breaking filling me with satisfaction. He falls to the floor in agony, clutching his mangled appendage. My right hand wraps around Adrianna’s face, covering her eyes. With my left, I pull the trigger, ending the life of the scum who dared to touch her.

  She doesn’t make a sound.

  I whisper into her ear, “You okay?”

  She gives a trembling nod. Her eyes are wide, flashing with fear, but she remains calm.

  The chaos continues, leaving us the perfect cover to escape. I’m torn—part of me wants to ambush the intruders, help my brothers. But all Bachman men know the safety of the women is number one. They will have to fight without me.

  I’ve got precious cargo to protect.

  Chapter Two

  Adrianna

  His arm is heavy around my shoulders and as we creep, low, hunched and without a sound, we make it around the back of the jet. We are hidden from sight, but every gunshot makes me jump. His eyes turn to me, flashing and commanding. He says, “We’re going to make a break for it into these woods and back around to my house.”

  “Your house? I’m not going to your house.”

  He raises one dark brow. “You really want to argue with me right now? We need to move fast to keep you safe but what the hell—I could spare a few minutes to put a nice silver bullet plug in your misbehaving ass right—”

  I swallow hard. “What’s the plan?” I smile sweetly.

  He gives me a hard stare. “Stay with me unless I say, ‘run.’ Then where would you go?”

  “Back to Rockland’s house.”

  “Good. On my count, let’s go. One, two—”

  “Wait. Are we going on three, or the go that’s after three?”

  His brow knits as if I’ve just asked if pigs really do fly. He gives his head a shake and says, “Stay on the path. It will take you straight to my house. Go. Now!” His arm tightens around me and we take off toward the woods. He moves me so I’m before him. He’s running behind me like a human shield. He yells, “Faster!” and for once, I obey him without a second thought. I fly across the sand, my legs whipping behind me. I hit the tree line, slowed by the tangled branches of the undergrowth. My breath quickens, my heart thudding against my chest and I run like the wind. He’s right behind me, matching me stride for stride.

  The path widens and now he’s beside me. He takes my hand in his, pulling me off the path, further into the woods. “You’re doing great. Where’d you learn to run like that?”

  “I was on the track team in high school.” We’re jumping over roots, dodging branches. I want to laugh—racing from danger, having a casual conversation about past after-school activities.

  “You’re pretty damn good.”

  We come to a clearing. He tugs my hand, leading me back onto the path. I can see one of our white stone houses in the distance. Judging by the direction we’ve run and the smaller size of the home, I assume we’ve made it to the bachelor side of the island—one I’ve never been to as the ladies aren’t allowed over here.

  We slow our pace and jog through the back yard, over the stone patio.

  “Home sweet home,” he says, flashing me a rare grin.

  He tugs me to the back door, swipes his thumb on the black keypad. The door opens and we’re inside. The door shuts automatically behind us and he quickly sets the alarm.

  I bend at the waist. My hands on my knees as I draw in deep breaths. My heart is racing, my breaths coming in pants. I look up at him. He’s mashing buttons, his brow knit—he’s not even winded.

  Once I’m recovered, I look around. It’s much like the other homes—white stone walls on the inside as well as the outsides. Huge, open concept rooms, soaring ceilings. But there’s a warmth to his that doesn’t have the same feel as the others. Polished wooden floors stained a warm brown. A mantel of wood over the fireplace—a beautiful knotted piece of wood. Huge wood shelves—with no brackets, they look as if they are floating—made of the same wood run up and down the wall on either side of the stone fireplace, covered in books. A colorful woven rug is in the center of the room. A dark brown sofa and matching chair. All the furniture is made of wood or leather. There’s even a few lush plants, potted in woven grass baskets.

  I turn back to see what Dante is doing. He’s pulling the casing from the black security box. I watch the muscles of his shoulders and back as they move beneath his shirt as he works. Now he flips a switch beneath. There’s a buzzing sound and I watch in awe as dark glass rises from the outside windowsills, slowly creeping up and over the enormous windows.

  All of them.

  The ocean goes from its beautiful teal to a dark navy behind the smoky glass.

  “What’s all this?” I ask. I walk toward the front of the house, placing my palms against the glass, staring at the dark panes.

  “A few of the buildings are built as safe houses. Should we have an attack like this, extra precautions have been made. What you’re seeing is a fireproof, bulletproof shield. It’s currently covering every inch of glass.”

  “It’s incredible.” The two-story windows, just a moment ago letting in the sun, the vision of the sea, are now a cloudy haze. I hear a loud beep and turn to where Dante stands. He’s pulled a rock from the wall and now he’s pushing a b
utton that’d been hidden in the stone. “What’s that?”

  “Landmines. They surround the house. Buried in the earth. Anything weighing over a hundred pounds steps on that land and—kaboom.”

  I peer over his shoulder, watching as his fingers deftly punch in long codes on the number pad. “What if someone from the family comes? How will they know?”

  “The brothers have a saying. When the shield is up, watch your butt. They’ll know.”

  “What if one of the Beauties comes looking for me?” The image of one of my friends looking for me, stepping on a landmine...

  “It’s patrolled.”

  “But what if they came through the woods? Like we did?”

  His green eyes turn to me. They are softer than before. Maybe the crazy sprint we just took was good for him. Doesn’t Sasha always tell me how exercise improves the mood? He says, “Would you feel better if I put up the fence? I really don’t think it’s necessary, but if it makes you feel better—” He leans down, loosening one of the gleaming polished wood floorboards. Presses another button. There’s a loud whirring noise. I watch in awe as a fence rises from the earth. Twenty feet from the house, a circle of black iron bars continue to grow until they’re ten feet tall. Encasing the house, and us, behind them. “Happy?”

  I look around me, taking it all in. I whisper, “It’s a fortress.”

  “Sure is. You’re safe here. We’ll let the dust settle and in forty-eight hours we’ll join the others.”

  “Wait—did you say forty-eight hours?”

  “Yup.” He’s pushing buttons and flipping switches. Replacing the stone. The shield is now halfway up the massive windows.

  “Two days? We’re going to stay here... alone... for two days?”

  “Looks like it, Sleeping Beauty. You and me in this protected castle. Alone for two days.” He takes his gun from his belt. Turns it over in his hand. Does something to it, making a clicking noise. He slides it into his bag. Takes his bag from his shoulder and makes his way to the black leather couch in the center of the room. Sits down. Puts his bag beside him. Pulls out a computer, a phone, and places them on the seat. He crosses a long leg over his knee and opens his laptop.