18

He gives a pained bark of laughter. “And you fucking say please. Every time. Sweetest girl I’ve ever had.” He withdraws his thumb and pulls me off the barstool. “Turn around, bambi.”
I whirl and put my forearms on the barstool, pushing my ass out. He yanks my panties down and then off before he slaps my ass.
I never thought I’d be into pain, but after that spanking he gave me last time, I’m not just ready for it, I crave it. He slaps my ass again, and again. Each time is a shock of pain, a splash of pleasure. I’m drowning in sensation, falling deeper and deeper into an abyss of lust and desire.
“Please,” I whimper.
He gives a sharp curse. “Push your ass out, beautiful.”
My ass is already out, but I try to arch even more. I hear the snap of a condom wrapper and I wait as he rolls on protection. He rubs the head of his cock along my slit.
I push back at him, trying to get him inside me. I can’t stand another second of this teasing. I need satisfaction.
He pushes into me with a hard thrust and the barstool tips and rights again. “Fuck.” He pulls out and I nearly weep. I must’ve whimpered, because he soothes me. “It’s okay, bambi. Lay over the arm of the sofa here. I need to fuck you way harder than I can here.”
I toddle to the sofa and he pushes me over the arm and slaps my ass again.
“You look so goddamn perfect with my handprints on your ass, Sondra Simonson.”
I don’t know why he always says my first and last name, but I love it. It makes me feel like someone famous. A movie star or a superhero. As promised, he plows into me so deep I cry out.
He stays there, cupping my throat to lift my head. “Okay?”
He’s checking in with me. He may talk a tough game, but Nico is considerate. When he’s not pointing a gun at someone’s head.
I arch back. “Yeah.”
He doesn’t move. “Yeah, what?”
My mind stutters, not sure what he wants. “Yes, sir?”
He chuckles. “Baby, you keep calling me sir and you’re going to get fucked until tomorrow. Ask me for what you want. I want to hear you say please again in that sweet little voice that makes my balls so tight.”
“Please, Nico.”
“Fuck.”
He withdraws and slams into me, taking my breath away with the force of it. It’s too rough, too hard, but I wouldn’t complain if it killed me. It feels so right. So good. He fucks me hard, his loins slapping against my ass like a second spanking, his cock drilling deep inside my sopping channel.
“Please.” Now that I know what he wants, what makes him crazy, I’m going to keep saying it.
He curses again and grips my upper arms, arching my upper back as he pounds into me.
I whimper but I spread my legs wider, work to relax my muscles to better receive the full force of his thrusts. My mind is lost. I haven’t even come yet, but I’m rocketing into outer space. No, somewhere better than outer space. The place of no thought. Only pleasure. Only ripe, juicy, satisfying, pounding pleasure.
“Yes, Nico, please,” I whine.
“Stop begging, baby.” His voice is rough. “Stop begging or I won’t last another-fuuuuuuuck.” He buries himself deep and bucks his hips against my ass, coming.
Somehow, he still has the wherewithal to remember I haven’t come and he lifts my hips away from the sofa enough to get his hand under me and rub my clit.
I go off, fireworks splintering in front of my eyes, my body convulsing under his rough touch.
I’m stuffed full of his cock, dancing against his fingers for long moments-for an eternity. And then it’s over and I forget how to breathe.
I collapse over the arm of the sofa, my vision black. No, my eyes are closed. I don’t know how long I’ve been lying limp like that, but Nico eases out and it rouses me.
“Come here, baby. Let’s get you cleaned up.” He spins me around. I can hardly stand on my two feet. I definitely can’t focus.
His smile is indulgent right before he bends at the waist and places his shoulder against my hip. And then I’m in the air, tossed over his shoulder, my bare ass to the sky. He gives it a slap as he carries me to his bathroom. He holds me like a sack of potatoes as he turns on the water to the shower, then puts me down and pulls off my dress.
“I wanted to fuck you in here, little girl. That first day I found you cleaning. I put you in the shower and it was all I could do not to strip and follow you in.” He strips now and I stand there, still a rag doll. “It was totally depraved. And then I heard you crying, and I felt like an even bigger asshole.”
I don’t know what to say, because it is depraved that he wanted to fuck me after what he’d done. And yet, hearing it only brings me the thrill of power I get every time he talks about how much he desires me.
This incredibly wealthy, powerful, dangerous man thinks I’m his weakness.
It makes me giddy with power.
And stupid. Because this is just about sex. It’s an infatuation, for whatever reason. And I’d better watch out or I could find myself in real danger.
“You’re not really going to keep me prisoner here.” I say it like a statement, but it’s really a question. I have to ask, now that my brain is returning and the adrenaline of fear is starting to return.
His lids droop to half-mast. He pushes me into the spray of water and follows me in. I find myself pinned against the beautiful Italian marble wall and his hands coast over my breasts, down my sides.
“Am I going to let you go? It’s debatable. Not until I fuck you at least one more time.”
My anxieties fade. He’s not insane. He wouldn’t really tie me to the bed-not if I didn’t want it. Not the guy who stopped to make sure I was okay when I whimpered during sex.
I didn’t think so, but I needed to be sure.
He grabs a bar of soap and lathers it in both hands, then strokes the suds across my shoulders, then over my breasts. He soaps my belly, down my outer thighs, then he turns me around and gets my back, my ass.
He starts to stroke between the crack of my ass.
My legs, already unsteady, start shaking. It’s both embarrassing and arousing to have my anus so thoroughly cleaned, massaged and stroked.
“I bet this juicy ass has never been fucked before.”
I stiffen, because, yeah. I’m totally an anal virgin and I’m definitely not into giving it up to him.
He reaches around the front of me and cups my mons, stroking the tender flesh there ever so lightly. “You’re afraid.” He brings his lips to my ear and then nips me there. “That shouldn’t excite me.”
My knees lock and I swerve my hips away from him. I definitely don’t want this. Especially not when it sounds like he wants to force it on me.
He turns me around and cages my throat with his hand. He doesn’t squeeze, just uses it to hold me still for a harsh kiss. Water runs down my face, between our lips. He moves his mouth over mine, fucking me with his tongue, twisting and turning his lips over mine, changing the angle, devouring me.
After a moment I relax into him, open for the onslaught.
His hands coast around to my ass and he squeezes, cupping and kneading my cheeks as he makes love to my face.
His cock hardens against my belly. “I need you again, bambi. Are you going to give it to me like a good girl?”
Those words shouldn’t turn me on, but they do. My pussy clenches, pelvic floor lifts. I wrap one leg around his waist and invite him in.
He groans against my lips. “I forgot to bring a condom in.” He removes my leg from his waist and pushes me against the shower wall. “Move from this position and I’ll spank your ass pink. Capiche?”
“Yeah.” I’m breathless.
He leans in and kisses me again, hard and twisty lipped. “So sweet.” But then he points a warning finger at me as he backs out of the shower. It’s a gesture that makes my knees weak. It probably makes his enemies piss themselves, his underlings jump into line.
He’s back a moment later, already rolling the condom on. He crowds against me, leaning his forehead against mine, his cock sawing between my legs.
“You too sore for this?”
There it is again-the consideration. I don’t know why it always surprises me. I guess because the rest of the time he can be so harsh. It’s so damn appealing, this mixture of asshole and tenderness. It makes him beyond attractive.
I am too sore, but I can’t refuse more sex. Not because I don’t want to disappoint him. Because I need it. Even with the orgasms he already gave me, I’m hungry for more. Want to know how this scene ends.
“Not too sore.” My voice sounds scratchy.
He presses his thumb in my mouth and I suck on it. “I don’t do gentle, amore. You’d better know that.”
He pulls his thumb out enough for me to answer, “Are you warning me off again?”
He kicks my feet wider, then lifts my thigh, but instead of putting it on his hip where it was before, he slaps my pussy.
I gasp. My nipples harden to diamond points.
He spanks between my legs again. It’s a punishment of some sort, but I’m not sure what it’s for. Or maybe he just likes to hurt me.
It wouldn’t surprise me if the mafia kingpin was a sadist. His world is crime and violence.
But then he melds his mouth over mine and lines up his cock with my entrance. “Take it, then.” His voice is gruff and deep. He thrusts in, filling me.
I throw my arms around his shoulders and claw the back of his neck. He shoves up, lifting my other foot from the shower floor. I wrap it around his waist and he cups my ass. “You gonna ride my cock good, bambina?”
My pussy clenches, even as I’m offended. Is this the way he talks to the whores he usually uses?
But then I forget my ire in the next moment because he starts muttering against my neck as he plows in and out, “So sweet. So fucking good. This pussy could save a man, I swear to Madonna.”
My upper back presses against the shower wall and he guides my movements, lifting and lowering me as he angles his thrusts up into me.
The heat of the water and steam, combined with the frantic sex makes me lightheaded.
Nico’s rough, no doubt about it. I have no control over our movements-he’s driving and he knows exactly what he wants and what he’s doing. My moans take on a higher and higher pitch and then I’m squeezing around his cock, slapping his shoulder.
“Don’t come,” he commands. “Don’t fucking come until I tell you to.”
Again, I’m offended. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be hot or he’s just that controlling. Except it is hot. So hot, I can’t help but obey him, just because I need to know what the reward for obedience will be.
Just because I’m desperate to reap my reward.
Nico’s panting, shoving harder and faster, flattening me against the cool tile, the stubble of his five-o’clock shadow scraping and scratching my neck.
He shifts one of the hands on my ass to brush my crack and I jerk as a jolt of sensation sizzles through me.
My heart beats too fast, too hard. I’m too hot-I fear I’ll pass out from the steam and the sex. He keeps brushing the tip of his finger over my anus, and the sensation ignites me.
A low growl echoes off the shower walls and his movements grow jerky. He mutters a string of filthy curses-half in English, half in Italian. Then he roars and shoves deep, biting my neck as he comes.
At the same time, the bastard breaches my anus with the tip of his finger.
I want to hate it, but it’s too good. The sensation in my ass is awful and incredible. I go off like a shotgun, coming around his thick cock as his finger eases in a gentle pumping motion.
I choke on a strangled cry, my inner thighs squeezing hard enough to break his hips as my spasming channel milks his cock for any last fluid remaining.
And when it stops, I’m wrecked. A low sob comes from my throat. Tears sting my eyes, but it’s only from the release. From the incredible, life-changing, orgasmic release.
Tacone croons something in Italian and turns off the water. He carries me out of the luxury shower and drapes a towel around my wet back.
I hardly register what’s happening. My body’s gone limp and my mind hasn’t returned from my trip to outer space.
Nico lays me on my back on his giant bed and wraps the ends of the towel around my front. Then he flops down beside me. Before my brain clears of the fog stirring, his snores cut through the room.
I guess good sex is always the cure for insomnia.
Smiling, I ease away from him and off the bed, then find my clothes in the living room and get dressed.
I didn’t finish dusting, but I skip it. I’m pretty sure he won’t report me.
Actually, maybe he’ll punish me for it.
And that thought has me smiling even wider.
I push my housekeeping cart out. Tony, his beefy bodyguard, is coming off the elevator headed toward Nico’s room. “Is Mr. Tacone in there?” he asks.
“Yes, but he’s sleeping.”
Tony halts in his tracks, then turns back to face me with interest burning in his expression. He takes in my wet hair, my flushing cheeks. I ignore him, hitting the elevator button several more times.
Tony leans his back against Nico’s door. “You have something to do with him sleeping?”
I shrug, but can’t stop the smile playing around my lips. “Maybe.”
Tony shakes his head. I’m thinking he’s going to say something offensive, but instead he breathes, “Thank fuck.”
The elevator dings and the doors slide open. I escape inside with my cart, eager to call Corey and tell her everything.