86

Summer
Carlo steps back, his lids lowering. “Take off your dress.”
My pussy clenches, and suddenly the orgasm he gave me wasn’t enough. Catching hold of the edges of my skin-tight dress, I shimmy it off, over my head, and toss it on the floor.
Carlo makes a tsking noise. “Not like that, amore.” He points at the dress. “Pick it up.”
I slide off the counter and bend to pick it up.
“With your teeth.”
I freeze. My face heats even as fresh desire blossom in every cell of my body.
Wow. Carlo really is into humiliation. Apparently, I am, too, because the flush of heat pouring through my body makes me feverish. Dropping to my hands and knees, I lower my head and pick up the dress with my teeth.
Carlo bends and slaps my upturned ass. “That’s fucking hot, bambi. I like you at my feet. Way too much.” His smile is feral. Shadows fall on the planes of his face, accentuating the angles, so he looks like he’s been carved of marble. A Roman God.
Every third second, I experience misgivings at letting myself be debased this way, but then I circle back to one fact: this is Carlo. Sexy, debonaire, mysterious, and one hundred percent trustworthy, at least in my experience. I’ve already allowed him to discipline me, and he hasn’t left me hanging in the wind. He proposed I move in with him. Never mind the fact that we’ve never even had a date.
Carlo unbuckles his belt, a sight that leaves me breathless. Doubling it, he swings it, catching my buttocks without any force. It stings, but doesn’t cause real pain. “Crawl for me, angel. Into the bedroom.” He swings the belt again.
It strikes like a kiss-the slap of leather somehow becoming a caress.
I take off, crawling on my hands and knees, my dress still between my teeth.
Carlo follows, whipping me.
My pussy drenches my inner thighs, swollen and tingling. My breasts sway, heavy, nipples aching.
I find the bedroom. A king bed stands in the center, draped in a charcoal print bedspread. All the decor is simple yet expensive.
“Stop. Kneel up.” Carlo positions himself in front of me and unbuttons his pants. The bulge in his elegant suit trousers hasn’t decreased since my punishment.
I lick my lips, dizzy with desire for him. I reach out, then stop, hand in the air, wondering if this game is like Simon Says, where I have to wait for him to tell me what to do.
“You may touch it.”
I lunge for the zipper on his trousers, tearing it open. Pulling his pants down enough to free his length, I grip the base of his shaft and flick my tongue over the head.
The growling noise that comes from Carlo’s throat makes me air-pump my hips.
A drop of pre-cum issues from his slit. I lick it off then swirl my tongue under the rim. His cock swells even bigger, straining toward my mouth. I look up and meet his hooded stare. When he caresses my cheek, I lean into his steady hand.
Holding his eyes, I part my lips and take him all the way into my mouth, tracing his veins with my tongue.
“Summer.” His voice is rough as gravel. “I never thought-”
I pop off to give him my full attention.
He gives an impatient shake of his head and fists his hand in my hair, pulling my head to his cock again. “Never mind. Don’t stop.”
I take him into the pocket of my cheek, taking care with my teeth. I drag my fist up and down the length of his cock in concert with my mouth, milking him.
Carlo growls again and pulls out. “Get on the bed, naughty girl.”
I scramble up, tripping when my stiff foot impedes my eager launch.
Carlo catches my arm and steadies me, pulling me against his chest for a savage kiss. His tongue punishes, sweeping into my mouth, tangling with mine. He sucks my lower lip into his mouth, nipping it before letting go.
As I come up for air, the room spins.
Carlo slaps my ass. “On the bed.”
“Yes, sir,” I giggle.
In a flash, he rolls both our bodies, so I lie on my back, and he straddles me. He pins my wrists up by my head. And then he stops. Indecision plays on his face.
“Carlo-” I bring my fingers to the buttons on his shirt, working swiftly to undo them.
He stares down at me, his eyes dark with heat. “Listen to me, cara.”
I draw a breath at the bossy way he speaks to me, my nipples tightening into hard buds. His hardened cock presses against my belly, but when I lift my hips, he ignores my efforts.
“Are you sure about this?”
“I-I think so.”
He shakes his head. “No think so. You’re either all in, or I find some restraint before we take this too far. I meant it when I said I wouldn’t let you go. If you stay in my bed tonight, you belong to me.”
I suspect my dad may take issue with this arrangement, but I can’t muster any complaint. I want to be owned by Carlo.
“Capisce?”
“Capito.” My nonna is Italian, so I understand the language but don’t speak it fluently. Still, many words and phrases have infiltrated my speech.
He looks surprised, as if not expecting me to agree. “Yeah?”
I thrust my hips again. “Yes, sir.”
His cock jerks against me.
“I will take good care of you,” he promises.
He looks so sincere that my belly does a full somersault. Or maybe my entire body does because I get light-headed. Once again, this is so close to my fantasies, it hurts.
Carlo’s a player. A full-blooded Italian man who’s left a wake of satisfied women behind him. I can’t take any promises from him seriously. Not to mention the fact that I doubt my parents would approve. But using him to regain my confidence while on the rebound isn’t criminal. If what already transpires between us is any indication, sex with him will be out of this world. So I’ll have my rebound fling and heal my wounds. No harm done. As long as I keep my heart locked up tight.
He lowers his head and kisses me again. This time, his lips are soft. Not quite so demanding. Almost tender.
My heart squeezes as if he tied a string around the middle and pulled too tight.
“So those are my conditions, principessa. Do you accept?”
I wriggle under him, still trying to tempt him into more. “I already said I did.”
“I want to be sure you understand. I’ll be keeping my thumb on you. You won’t be going back to that job.”
I roll my eyes. “I already agreed to that, Carlo.”
“You won’t leave this apartment without my permission except to go to classes.”
My body heats at the idea of being his prisoner. “How do I earn my freedom?”
His feral grin turns wicked. “You’ll have to be a very, very good girl.”
My nipples and clit throb in time together. This is dangerous. More dangerous than my hare-brained idea to take off my clothes at a strip club. But the temptation outweighs the risk. I need this. My body needs this. I’ve gone too long feeling ugly and completely unappealing.
“I’ll be good,” I whisper.
He pulls off the shirt I unbuttoned and shucks the white t-shirt underneath it. His chest ripples with beautiful muscles, making me weak with desire. “Roll over and give me that ass.” He backs off the bed and removes his pants.
More flutters in my belly. What does he mean by that? Is he going to spank me again? Or take me anally? Jesus, I’ve never done that before. Despite my qualms, I roll over.
I hear the sounds of him removing his pants, and then the mattress dips as he rejoins me on the bed. My ass and back twitch as I wait for his next move.
The crinkle of foil reaches my ears as Carlo opens a condom. “Put your wrists above your head.”
I obey, and he pinions them in one large hand. Lying on my tummy with my hands captured, I am completely at his mercy. There’d be no way to control our lovemaking, save lifting my ass for him, which I do.
“God, Summer. You’re fucking beautiful.” He brushes my long hair to one side and lays kisses along my bare shoulder. The flick of his tongue teases me, his warm breath sends shivers of excitement through me.
Heat flushes every part of my body, and that’s before the head of his cock nudges at my entrance. My pussy’s entrance, thank God. He doesn’t want my ass.
My juices are so slick that he slides right in. I groan at the sensation of being filled by him, the bump of the head of his cock on my inner wall. My body opens to him, more wet and ready than I’ve ever been.
He lowers over me, separates my wrists, and interlaces his fingers over mine. The intimate gesture turbo-boosts my heart rate. His breath comes hot on my neck and he bites down. The sensation shoots me over the edge. My pussy clamps down on his cock and my back arches. I squeeze his fingers tight as my inner walls contract with wave after wave of pleasure.
“Responsive little thing, aren’t you?” Carlo sounds amused. He hasn’t come yet, I realize with a stab of guilt. The score is Me: two orgasms; Carlo: zero. He pulls out and rolls me onto my back. His large palm flattens between my breasts and drags down to my tummy.
I suck my belly in, not liking anyone to touch me there.
He stops and frowns. “Are you really pulling in your belly?”
I stare back at him.
“Do you think it’s too big?”
Flushing and hating the direction of the conversation, I look away.
He grips my waist with both hands and drops his head, laying four light kisses across the taut skin. “You have a warped perception of your body, sweetheart. You’re too skinny as it is. I’m going to have to turn Italian grandmother on you and fatten you up.”
I roll my eyes, but his words send warmth into my chest.
He kisses the hollow of my throat, and licks down to my nipple, which he takes between his teeth. He nips it then laves away the pain with his tongue. “Open those perfect thighs for me.”
My legs part of their own accord. It seems I am incapable of refusing Carlo anything.
He sinks into me, rocking his pelvis with slow, deep thrusts. “Play with your nipples.”
My doubt must show on my face because he says, “You heard me, bambina. Pinch them.”
My pussy contracts around his length. I bring my hands to cup my own breasts. It feels dirty and self-indulgent, but the fact that Carlo not only gave me permission, but commanded it, makes it okay. I squeeze my nipples between my thumbs and the sides of my index fingers.
“Harder.”
My eyebrows shoot up.
He plows into me with so much force my head slides close to the headboard. He braces my shoulders and slams in hard again. “I said, harder.”
I catch my breath, holding back the orgasm that screams just around the corner, ignited by his dominance, his harsh command. I pinch my nipples and squeeze hard, pulling them out and gasping.
“God, you’re sweet.” His voice sounds rough.
I pinch my nipples again.
Carlo somehow senses I’m about to come because he growls, “Not. Yet.”
My eyes widen, and I stare up at him, slightly chastised, waiting for his next command.
He thrusts into me, speaking on each instroke, “You will… wait… until… I… give you… permission… to come. Got it?”
I clutch the sheets, my fingers twisting in them like claws. Holding off my orgasm seems like an impossibility, but he holds me, trapped in his burning gaze as he pounds into me.
“Now.” He thrusts into the hilt and stays there. Even through the condom, I swear I feel his hot cum spill.
A shudder goes through my entire body. My vaginal muscles spasm, inner thighs clench, lifting the arches of my feet. Carlo literally makes my toes curl. Every part of me continues to tremble as the aftershocks run through me. My head swims, eyes lose focus.
I collapse on the bed, thoroughly used, limp with release.
Carlo
Gesu. I never expected her to be so incredibly responsive. Hot and so damn sweet. A natural submissive. I must have known on some level because I’ve been attracted to her from the start, and dominating is my kink. But Summer’s full of life, full of fire. She never gave me the time of day, other than breezy pleasantries. I would’ve thought she’d be hard to get, that winning her submission would be the job of a lifetime.
But here she lies, obedient and tame, in my bed. The cool, aloof little vixen I imagined would take elaborate courting already surrendered wholly to me without so much as a date.
I ease out of her and dispose of the condom. When I return, I pull the covers out from underneath her and flick them across her body, then settle beside her. She rolls into me, her hand on my chest.
I stroke her hair, run my knuckles along her cheek. So beautiful. So perfect. And so not mine.
Instead of minimizing the damage I’ve already done, I made a deal to keep her here, with me.
How do I think I can explain this to the don? I hope you don’t mind, but I captured your daughter, and I’m keeping her prisoner to be my own personal sex slave.
Yep. I’m fucked. Don LaTorre has been like a father to me. I respect the hell out of the boss, and would never do anything to jeopardize my position in the organization. Or so I thought.
But Summer just turned my world on end, and no matter how I try to shake out the situation, there’s no way I can see out of this. I’m not going to send her away, not when she just gave herself to me.
I am still a stronzo for being the guy who’s taking advantage of her when she’s down. But at least I’m the only asshole. I won’t let her get hurt. Hopefully, I’ll be able to show her worth.