Caitlin
Paolo Tacone just saved me from hell.
The man just got me out of jail, then gave me exactly what I needed to shake off the trauma. I rest my head on his chest, blinking at nothing.
All the terror and shame emptied out with my tears. I’m in a state of nothingness now. Drained, but okay. Paolo’s on his back and I’m tucked against him, my head resting on his shoulder.
Paolo nudges my face up to peer at me. “You still seem pretty checked out, doll. Did something happen in jail?”
I sense the violence ripple through him, like he’s going to slit some throats if he finds out I got jail-raped or something.
“No,” I assure him. “I was just scared.”
“Understandable.”
I lean up on my arm to look at him fully. “Why did you come and get me?” I’m not stupid enough to think I won’t owe him big time for this. Favors don’t come for free, especially not from mafia men. But I still want to know why he even bothered. I didn’t ask for help. He just showed up with it.
Maybe he wants me to start hacking for him on the regular. Some new mafia scheme.
His brow wrinkles. “Girl like you doesn’t belong in jail.”
I cock my head. “Girl like me?”
“You’re like a wildfire-hot. Bright. A fast burn. Nobody should dim your light, doll. I never should have let that happen.”
Butterflies take flight in my tummy. He does care. He definitely cares.
“I had a plan going in, you know? I was going to scare you into restoring the money and then let you go. But then I met you. And you’re you. And I shoulda changed the plan.” He shakes his head, regret etched in every line of his face. “I don’t know why I didn’t.” He brushes the backs of his fingers across my collarbone. It’s not a sexual touch, but it’s intimate. Sensual. “You know I didn’t mean what I just said about bringing you back, right?”
“Of course,” I answer. And I do. I know he just said the thing that would get me to cry, and that’s why I’m floating on gratitude over here. Because there are very few people in this universe who would go there.
But Paolo’s an out-of-the-box kind of guy.
I guess you have to be to be a hitman and a sadist to get me.
I don’t know why I think that’s such a problem.
I straddle his hips, no longer feeling vacant or devoid of emotion. I feel like me again. All parts of me-the complete me. The crazy me. The smart me. The nymphomaniac. The scared me. And still very much grateful me.
I rub my breasts over his chest, purring. “Thank you for rescuing me.”
His cock bobs behind me, nudging between my cheeks. He’s ready to go again. I rise up and impale myself on his cock slowly, watching his jaw go slack, feeling his length get harder and thicker.
I rock my hips, seating him deeper, and lean forward on my hands, rubbing my boobs over his hairy bear-chest. “So what is your plan for me now, big man?”
He grips my hips and starts conducting, pulling me over him to ride his cock. Controlling the show.
“This was pretty much my plan.” His voice is gravelly. I like the way his breath stutters out on the exhale.
“You’re going to keep me as your love-slave?” I purr.
Of course the idea turns me on-I’m a little maso who loves to be used. But that’s just thinking about it as a short-term kinky scene. In actuality, this could be my worst nightmare. Still, I can’t muster the reservations I should be feeling right now.
“Uh huh. No disrespect intended, of course. That gonna work for you?”
I sit back on my haunches and let him bounce me over his cock, my tits swinging. “For how long?”
“I figure you can work off your debt to me, one sex act at a time. Just like this.”
Okay. So still a prisoner. Just a longer timeline now. Good to know.
I run my nails through the hair on his chest. Scrape them lightly across his nipples. “What’s the going rate?”
He thrusts his hips up while pulling me down, forcing me to take him deep. “Let’s say five hundred bucks per sex act. And I’ll even count all the times you got me off last week, since that was so generous of you. Especially considering I was shaking you down.”
My mouth stretches into a wide smile.
He doesn’t return the expression, but he says, “I like it when you smile like that. You’re really fucking hot, Caitlin.”
And then I want desperately to please him. I reach behind and cup his balls, rub over his prostate while I ride him.
Paolo growls and flips us over, so I’m on the bottom and he’s on the top. He leans on one hand and strokes in and out, staring down at my face like I’m the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.
I pinch his nipples. He pins my hands beside my head. “I’m not wearing a condom.”
“I’m on the pill,” I say automatically. Of course I missed a couple nights when he kidnapped me but I made them up and I can make up last night’s missed pill, too.
“Good, because I want to come inside you.” He doesn’t worry about my orgasm this time, which I find kinda hot. Like I’m his love slave now so my pleasure isn’t his concern. Basically, it just ensures that I come as hard as he does, maybe harder.
And then he grins. It transforms the normally gruff expression on his face.
He makes no comment, just sends this affectionate smile as he hovers over me, still buried deep.
We stare at each other like neither of is sure how we got here, but we’re glad we did.
And for just this moment, I want to forget everything-grad school, jail, my father’s death, foster care, taking care of my brother. I want to forget Paolo Tacone is a powerful hitman for the mob and just be. Just be with him.
Too bad life is so damn complicated.
Paolo
Caitlin loses her smile as soon as we’re out of bed. She picks up her phone and goes outside-buck naked and it’s forty degrees out-to make a phone call. I watch her through the sliding door, circling the hot tub. When she opens it up to peek inside, I step outside to pull the cover back. “Hop in,” I murmur, smacking her ass.
She tosses me a grateful smile and scoots in, but the tone of the conversation she’s having is tense. “Listen, it’s all been handled. You don’t need to worry about it, okay? No, the charges were dropped, the money was returned. All’s well that ends well.”
I go inside to give her some privacy. It’s probably her brother. When I scrolled through her phone the first night, that was the only number she called for more than a minute.
I vow to learn more about her life-family, history, everything. Now that I’ve decided to keep my little wildfire, I want to know everything there is to know.
I bring out a towel and leave it for her. When she comes back in, she’s a more sane Caitlin-a side I haven’t seen much of, but I knew must be there for her to be where she is-halfway to a PhD in computer science. “I was supposed to TA my first class today,” she says, like all is lost.
There’s no fucking way this is a problem, though. Not when Dr. Alden is my bitch now.
I point at her phone. “Call your advisor. Tell him you’ll be there tomorrow.”
“Well, it would be next Tuesday, but…” She searches my face. “Okay.” She dials and I step closer to listen in. She’s wrapped in nothing but a towel, and even though I’ve already had her twice, she still turns me on.
She glances up at me again, as if for reassurance as she puts the phone to her ear. “Hi, Dr. Alden? Yeah, I don’t know if you saw the news or not, but-”
“I saw it,” he says tightly. “Are you calling from jail?”
“Nope, I’m out. Charges have been dropped. It was all a big misunderstanding.” She shoots me another look and I nod reassuringly. “So I missed today’s class, but I’ll start Tuesday, no problem.”
“No problem, right,” he grumbles, but then he says, “Fine. Make sure you do.”
“I’ll make sure,” she says.
I resist the urge to snatch the phone from her hand and tell him he’d better sweeten his fucking tone when he talks to my girl, but I leave it.
Caitlin hangs up and falls into me, pressing her body against mine. I wrap an arm around her. But her forehead wrinkles up again. “Um, I need to go home.” She sends me a pleading look. “I’m way behind in my schoolwork and-”
I hold up my hand. “Say no more. You’re not my prisoner, doll. I’ll drive you back.”
I’m annoyed by her relief, even though how the fuck is she supposed to know she’s not a prisoner this time? I’m the kind of guy who purposely keeps people in the dark about where they stand and what my intentions are.
I’ve spent my entire life hiding what’s important to me behind violence and threats. I don’t even know how to let another person in. My family, they just know me. Communication isn’t required.
But a prickly sensation tells me I’m going to fall way off the mark with Caitlin if I don’t figure this shit out.
Trouble is, I don’t even know where to start.
Caitlin
I don’t hear from Paolo for a couple days, which comes as a relief because I have a lot of catching up and explaining to do with my classes and job at the rec center.
That doesn’t mean I’m not thinking about him every second of the day. Wondering when he’s going to turn up.
If he’ll be sitting in my living room when I come home. Or if he’s watching me. I had this sense before the FBI picked me up that I was being watched. At the time I imagined it was them, but after the thing with Dr. Alden I’ve started wondering if it was Paolo.
And all this time, I hear the scream of warning going off about this whole situation. I literally got into bed with a killer. I owe him two hundred grand which I am paying off one blowjob at a time.
Things could go south in an instant.
On the third night I come home from my dance cardio class and find my apartment has been completely emptied.
I stand in the doorway, my heart thumping as I try to figure out what happened.
Is this a message from Paolo? Did he feel like I didn’t make myself available so he took all my belongings? Or did the FBI return? No, that doesn’t make sense.
“Oh hey, doll.” Paolo appears behind me, his large hand spanning my lower back. “I moved your shit. Come on.”
“Moved it where?” I say faintly. He takes my bike from my hands and carries it down the stairwell in front of me.
Outside, he hands the bike to some young Italian guy with a shining red Escalade on the corner. “Bring that over, too,” he says to the guy.
“What’s happening, Paolo?”
We get to his car and he opens the passenger door for me. “Get in.”
I wring my hands in the car. Did he move me into his place? It’s way too far from campus, and I don’t drive. Living there would be the biggest pain in my ass. Plus… I’m scared. I don’t know what it means to be consumed by Paolo Tacone.
The drive isn’t far, though. Just a mile away, he pulls into a newly remodeled upscale apartment building where I’m sure the apartments cost five times what mine does.
“What’s going on?” I ask Paolo again, but he still refuses to answer. The guy with my bike shows up right behind us, and Paolo takes it from him and hands him a wad of cash. “Grazie, Adam.”
Seriously, I could’ve ridden my bike over here and he could’ve given me that cash.
“Come on, little hacker.” Paolo carries my bike in and we get on the elevator to the sixth floor. There, he unlocks the door to an apartment.
It’s lovely. Gleaming hardwood floors. Bay windows on the street side of the apartment. A leather couch with dual recliners and a matching chair face a giant flat-screen television. There’s a nice rug in front of it.
My desk and bulletin board are against one wall, with my computer equipment all set up.
“What’s happening?” I try again.
“I moved you. I didn’t like that other place. It was a dump and not nearly safe enough for you.” He walks over and sprawls on the expensive couch. “What do you think?”
Great. I try to erase the frown from my face. Yeah, he does have the right to move me. This guy owns me.
So I should show some gratitude. Credit another $500 off my tab.
I walk over and hit my knees in front of him, reaching for his cock.
He catches my wrist. “Hang on, little girl.”
I look up, checking his face for clues about what he wants. What I did wrong.
“It’s not that I don’t want you to give me head.” He leans forward and brushes some of my hair back from my face. “I always want that, doll. But I get the feeling you didn’t like my surprise. What gives?”
I suck my cheek into my mouth and consider what to say. “It’s definitely a surprise,” I say cautiously. “But the thing is, I could never afford a place like this on my own. So I give up my cheap student housing-and I had to use some serious hacking skills to make sure I won that lottery when it came open-and then what happens when we’re done?”
Paolo goes perfectly still. He never shows much, but I can tell whatever I said upset him. “What do you mean when we’re done?”
And that’s when it hits me-Paolo Tacone might be playing for keeps.
And I’m not sure why that scares me even more than our current arrangement.
He cups my chin and lifts it to examine my face. “Let me ask you something… are you keeping track?”
Keeping track. He means of how much I owe him.
I nod, even though I’m pretty sure it’s going to piss him off.
It does. He releases me abruptly and gets up, stepping over me to pace to the window. In the reflection, I watch him scrub a hand over his five o’clock shadow and stare down at the cars below.
Crap.
I am in over my head here. I don’t know what’s going through his mind, or if I even want to know.
But I do get that I just hurt his feelings.
A feat I didn’t believe possible until this moment.
I walk over and touch his arm.
He jerks it up and I flinch, but he was only moving to loop his arm around me. I relax and let him and he draws me close. “You’re scared of me.” He sounds stunned. Like he hadn’t considered that possibility. I guess I’ve done a good job hiding it. My overly-familiar act sucked him right in.
I can’t answer, because I don’t want to acknowledge what’s obviously an offensive notion to him.
He releases me and gives a shake of his head. “You want out of our arrangement?”
My breath stands still. It’s a simple question. And considering I have been keeping track, you’d think it would be an easy answer. But when I open my mouth, nothing comes out.
“No,” I finally croak.
He lifts his brows like he doesn’t believe me. “No? I can find another way for you to pay me back. A couple years working IT at the casino when you graduate. You don’t even have to see me again. Would you prefer that?”
Why is my heart breaking at this questioning? I should be jumping at the offer. It’s far safer. Much more reasonable.
Instead I wrap my arms around his thick trunk. “I don’t want out of the arrangement. But I am scared.”
He burrows his fingers into the back of my hair and cradles my head. He tips my face up and leans his forehead against mine. “But you like to be afraid, right, little hacker?”
A soft puff of laughter leaves my lips. Once again, I’m surprised at how easily he sees my quirks. “You got me.”
His thumb moves behind my neck, stroking there. “I thought we understood each other.” His dark gaze sears my face. “Was I wrong?”
I shake my head. Because my anxieties have fled. It’s illogical and unreal, but in these moments, I do believe I understand Paolo Tacone perfectly. And I believe he understands me.
It’s when I’m away from him I realize none of this is safe, sane or consensual. None of this makes sense.
He runs his thumb over my lower lip, then tilts my head and drops his to brush his lips across mine. “Let’s get this straight once and for all. I play rough. I like to say I own you. Order you around and remind you what you owe me. But all of that makes you hot. Am I wrong?”
“No.”
“You like being owned by me.”
I hesitate.
His eyes narrow as he studies me. “What am I missing?”
“Nothing. No, you’re right. But what I think is hot and what I think is smart or safe, aren’t necessarily the same things.”
He cups my nape. “Baby, I never hurt you.”
“You kidnapped me and held my brother for ransom.”
He drops his head to the side. “Well, you had it coming. You stole from me.”
A giggle escapes my lips. This man is possibly as nuts as I am. “True.” I put my hands on his chest and step closer. “So what are we really talking about? This is more than a business arrangement?”
He releases me and rubs his forehead. “Do you want it to be?”
I cast my gaze about the room as if the answer to this might appear somewhere on the freshly painted walls. “I-I don’t know. I mean, I don’t even know what I’d bring to something more than that. I’m just a crazy hacker who gives good head.”
“I know you’re not crazy.” He considers me. “What do I bring to the table besides some money and a mean streak?” He shrugs. “Maybe I need somebody to hurt. Someone to submit. You like pain. And yeah, you give great fucking head. It’s a match made in heaven.”
I laugh and hold his gaze as I lower to my knees. His nostrils flare when I unbuckle his belt. His cock grows as soon as I touch it, lengthening and bobbing when it springs free from his boxers. I take a slow, leisurely lick around the head.
“Caitlin, this isn’t a transaction for me.” His voice is strained-whether it’s from the blowjob or the difficulty in admitting anything to me, I can’t tell.
I take him deep into my mouth as an answer.
But he persists. “Is it for you?”
I grip the base of his cock and squeeze tight, coming off with my mouth. I shake my head. “I missed you after the kidnapping.”
His lips quirk and he grips the back of my head, feeding his length into my mouth again. “I missed you, too, bella.”
I struggle against his hold until he sets me free and I pop back off. “So am I your girlfriend? Are you going to see other women at the same time?”
He raises his brows, and the amusement on his face pisses me off. “Would that bother you?”
I stand up. Blow job is officially over. “I don’t play side chick,” I snap, turning away.
He catches my arm and yanks me into a brutal kiss. His tongue presses between my lips, teeth nip at me. When he releases me and comes up for air, he says, “No one else. Tacones don’t do side chicks. Once we make our minds up about a woman, we’re loyal as hell.”
I absorb that nugget, fascinated by everything it brings up. He comes from a family of violent but loyal men. That’s hot in a raw, primeval way.
To my utter shock, he drops to his knees and yanks down my yoga pants. His tongue delves between my legs and I cry out, grasping his hair. He rubs and flicks his tongue over all my sensitive bits until I’m trying to climb onto his face.
“Clothes off,” he orders when I start pulling his hair. “Go check out your new bed.”
I giggle and kick off my shoes and pants and run for the bedroom. It’s another lovely, large room with a huge four poster king bed in the middle. I grab one of the posts and swing around to face him where he’s stalking up behind me like the predator he is. “Are these for tying me up?”
“You know it.” He slaps my bare ass. “Why do you still have clothes on?”
I scramble out of my sweater, crop top and sports bra and climb up on the bed. “On your back. Spread your legs.” For a moment, he just takes his fill of looking, his dark eyes glittering with promise. Then he produces several lengths of soft rope from his pocket-he must have planned my bondage in advance-and ties me spread-eagle to the posts. Pleasure courses through my veins before he even touches me and when he returns to his exploration of my pussy with this tongue, I’m already half-lost.
Three orgasms later, I’m shaking and begging him to stop.
“No more. Please, Paolo. I can’t take any more. Let me suck your cock.”
He gives a cruel laugh. “Next time I’ll tie you with your head facing the foot of the bed and then fuck your mouth. You’d like that, wouldn’t you, little slave?”
“Mmm hmm.” I’m delirious at this point. But he’s right, I’d love that.
He unties me and climbs over me. I wrap my legs around his back when he enters me and use my heels to pull him in deeper.
He rocks into me, and even though I’m already wrung out with all the orgasms, my body shivers and celebrates the penetration.
“I like the apartment,” I confess. I attempt to focus on my surroundings. “I like the bed, too.” He rolls my knees back toward my shoulders and pumps into me rapid-fire. Then he switches to put my ankles over his shoulders. Finally, he turns me onto my belly and finishes fucking me from behind.
“I can’t move,” I groan after he comes, because my body is as limp as a rag doll.
Paolo sits down on the bed and pulls me face down over his lap. He spanks me hard and fast, which instantly wakes me up. “Ow!” I reach back with my hand to cover my butt.
He grabs my wrist and bends it behind my back, continuing to spank me. “I’ve seen you take way worse.”
“Not after so many orgasms!” I protest. “I’m way more sensitive now.”
“Is that right? Didn’t know that.”
“Yes! It’s a fact.” I try to cover with the other hand, squeezing my buttocks together and kicking my feet with straight legs like a swimmer. “What’d I do, anyway?”
“You don’t have to do anything to get spanked, little girl. Sometimes I just feel like doling out the pain.”
I smile. Because despite my protests, this is total bliss for me. He’s definitely a man who speaks my language. “Good thing that works for me.”
“Good thing.”
This man is every masochist’s dream, but there’s no way I’m going to point him to the BDSM scene to discover there’s a whole slew of submissives like me who would gladly offer up their bodies to this perfect, wealthy dominant.
“I can’t believe some girl hasn’t latched on to you to be her sugar daddy before.”
He pops me twice on the ass-one spank on each cheek. “Is that what I am now?”
I giggle. “Well, you did just get me a new apartment.”
He wraps his hand in my hair and uses it to bow my back up and lift my face. “I’m happy to spoil the shit out of you, doll, if that’s what you like.”
I get wet, even though I’m not the type who goes crazy over money. I’ve made do on very little since I was emancipated at the age of sixteen. But we just said this isn’t transactional.
“I’m just here for the sex,” I say with a saucy smile. “And because you own me.”
He slaps the backs of my thighs, which makes me kick in earnest. “I do own you. And I’m going to take every advantage of that.” He drags his thumb between my butt cheeks and I squeeze even harder.
“What happens if we break up?”
“What?” He tugs me up to straddle his lap and pushes the hair back from my face.
“With the money? The arrangement? What happens then?”
“Then we make a new arrangement.”
I still have all kinds of yellow flags, if not red. My better judgement still thinks I should be running for the hills right now. “Have you ever hit a woman?” I have to know if this guy would get violent with me. Like if he got jealous, or we had a fight.
“What?” His brows slam down, nostrils flare.
I’ve really offended him.
“Never.” He shakes his head emphatically. “I would never hit a woman. Not for any reason, other than the one you already know.” He squeezes my ass to make it clear which one that is.
I suck in a breath. Crazy Caitlin wants to get this all settled and out in the open. “Have you ever killed a woman?”
“No. But I don’t answer questions like that, Caitlin. Don’t ask me about anything illegal ever again. I won’t answer-for your own protection. Capiche?”
A shiver runs down my spine, but far from scaring me off, I’m just more turned on. My nipples pebble up. I don’t even know why that turns me on. He’s dangerous, but he has this code he lives by. He doesn’t hurt women. He doesn’t talk about what he’s done.
It’s far different from the way my dad would endlessly brag about the small-time operations he was a part of.
I initiate the kiss this time and he lets me lead, fingers tightening on my back.
“I’m sorry I offended you earlier,” I say.
He shakes his head. “I wasn’t offended.” But I know it’s not true. And now that I’ve seen a little sliver of the man beneath the tough guy, I feel more comfortable with our arrangement.
Relationship.
With being his girlfriend.
I’m still nervous. I still have reservations, the main one still revolving around my father’s death. Like-did one of his brothers do it? One of their soldiers? He’s already told me he won’t tell if he finds out. Can I really open my heart to an actual relationship with a man whose family is responsible for the wrecking of mine?
It’s a hard hump to get over.
But I can try.