But he stopped short of actually pressing his tongue to my clit, which was something I realized I was holding my breath in expectation of—and not in terror either, as I should have been, but in desperate, raging anticipation. I wanted to feel that exquisite heaven of release. He had teased me enough.
I was ready.
“Stop,” I tried to say. But I didn’t.
Instead, he pulled back a little, making me stifle a groan of protest that should never have formed in my throat, and skipped right over it on his way to the part of my body that, at this point, was the wettest.
After avidly lapping up as much of my juices as he could with his tongue, he moved back up a bit and addressed me, although at first, I refused to look at him.
“My, my, my, you are just a fountain down here, aren’t you? I see my guess was right about you liking to protest and fight. Fight me. Fight me all you want. You want it rough.”
Although I knew I was lying, I shook my head in vehement denial.
But he merely nodded. “I understand, I do, princess, and it’s fine with me. I love it that you so obviously enjoy what I’m doing to you. There’s a lot more where that came from.” He cleared his throat and the boyish enthusiasm he had just exhibited melted away as if it had never been, and the timbre of his voice changed such that I had to suppress a shiver. “I’m going to let your wrists go right now, and I expect that you’re not going to raise them off the bed. Knowing what I do about you now, if you do move them so much as an inch, I’m going to put you over the edge of the bed and use my belt on your bare ass. And I won’t go nearly so easy on you as I did when I was spanking you with my hand. I know you like it, and it’s going to take just that much more effort on my part to teach you a real lesson. If you move your hands, princess, it won’t be a spanking. It will be a whipping.”
He let go of my wrists then and didn’t even look to see whether I obeyed him or not, as far as I could tell. He assumed I would, and to my deep shame, he was right. He was obviously going to enjoy himself regardless of what I did. He was only too eager to take his belt to my bare ass, if that was what I made him do.
Although I kept my hands where he wanted them, I wailed behind tightly closed lips, knowing I should be brave enough to tackle him, to risk bodily injury—or at least a very severe strapping—in order to preserve the sovereignty over my own body, but I just couldn’t convince myself to do it. Especially not with the intimate glimpse he’d given me into just how unbearable it would probably be.
And he was already back in place, this time using the fingers of one hand to splay me open while the other reached up to pluck my nipples, removing the clamps as I moaned with a mixture of pleasure and pain. Pinching them much harder than the clamps had before, he made each one of them hurt before he moved on to the other, treating them rather cruelly. And there was nothing I could do to stop him. With my rear end already singeing the sheets beneath me, I had no interest at all—well, very little anyway—in finding out what it would feel like if he actually did to me what he said he would. There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that he would, either.
Surprisingly, worry about being punished faded quickly from my mind, to be replaced by the unbearable aching sensations he was creating with his mouth as it settled slowly, very slowly, over the clit he had already completely exposed, laying his unmoving tongue flat over a piece of me that caused a thirst I knew I should resist.
Stop.
Stop.
“Stop,” I finally managed to say even though I wasn’t sure I meant what I said. “Stop!” I said it again, much much louder this time.
Stop what?
Stop what he was doing?
Or stop torturing me with the wait?
Matthew
This little mafia princess needed to know who was in charge fast. She needed to fear me. Hate me. Despise me. I didn’t give a fuck really, other than when I gave an order, she would damn well follow it.
No Daddy’s little rich girls allowed.
“I told you to be quiet so Daddy Dearest doesn’t hear us, and I mean what I say.”
My hard, implacable tone had her stiffening even further, but I figured from the sounds drifting up from downstairs that we had a while before we would need to leave, and I intended to get my revenge on her father by doing what I pleased to her. Having sex with Vittorio Costa’s daughter wasn’t of much interest to me. Or at least it hadn’t been when this plan was first set into motion.