93

Carlo
Summer seemed flustered at first about being at her parents’ house with me. Well, not with me. Sadly. I hate hiding that she’s mine after I kept her up all night tormenting her body.
I had to leave early this morning, but I left a note with strict instructions for her to study all day and eat a good breakfast and lunch, and said I’d meet her here for Sunday dinner.
As enchanting as I find her blushes, I’m going to be in a world of trouble if Don Al notices. I suspect Donna Teresa, Al’s mother, hasn’t missed a thing. Obviously, if this relationship continues, I’ll have to reveal it.
And I plan for it to continue.
Permanently.
But I need to figure out how to best reveal it and do it in my own way.
I wouldn’t want it to come out badly. Yesterday, Vince came to drop his money by my apartment while Summer was there, which I didn’t plan for. I told her to stay in the bedroom while I met with him, but the coglione was peering past me like he knew I had a girl in there. Nosy fuck.
It suddenly occurs to me that if he noticed her Beamer parked on the street in front of my apartment, I’m fucked. Vince is some kind of older cousin to the don, but he’s not high in the organization. He works for me, which I know bugs the hell out of him, since I’m younger and not a blood relation.
“Why don’t you ever bring a date to dinner, Carlo?” Carmen probes. She’s always asking about my love life. Wants me to get married and settle down.
She makes me miss my own mother.
I smile, hoping Summer doesn’t take this the wrong way. “Because I don’t do relationships.”
Donna Teresa, Summer’s nonna, smiles at this for some reason. “Waiting for the special one,” she says in Italian. She’s always been extra fond of me because I’m an implant from Italy like she is.
Then she flicks a glance toward her granddaughter.
If I weren’t so damned intent on maintaining that Summer and I are not an item, I might celebrate the fact that the matriarch wants me for her. That she thinks I’m worthy of marrying into the Family. Maybe even that she noticed that’s where my intentions lie.
But at the moment, I’m trying to cast suspicion away from Summer, hopefully without simultaneously offending her.
How in the fuck did I get myself into this position?
Joey slaps me on the back. “The harder they come, the harder they fall.” He sends an adoring glance at his wife Sophie, whose belly is swollen with their first child.
“Dinner’s ready.” Carmen saves me from further discussion about my love life.
I end up in a seat at the dining table across from Summer, which isn’t ideal because she keeps stealing glances at me. Gesu, it’s a good thing I’ve had four years’ practice of not staring at her because now that I’ve had her, my attraction has been magnified a thousand-fold. All I can think about is the way she looked spread out underneath me the night before, pulling at her restraints and moaning as I turned her apple-sized breasts rosy with a suede flogger. She was on fire for me, her beautiful pussy wet and plump, even after I took her four times.
Her ass is next. I plan to dedicate an entire week to her anal training.
As if she knows what I’m thinking, her look turns sultry. I jerk when her little socked toes caress my cock under the table. I cover the movement by adjusting my chair, scooting it closer to the table.
I should move back, out of her reach. I should frown and give her a warning look, but this sexual side of Summer makes me weak. The unexpected touch has me harder than a rock, my cock straining against my slacks.
She keeps it up, all through dessert, licking spoonfuls of tiramisu with deliberate displays of her tongue and sensual play of her lips. Her incredible, agile toes stroke along my length, tracing the lines of my cock, rolling and pressing the head against my leg.
I don’t dare look at her. Lust charges through my body as I struggle to get my erection under control before the meal ends and everyone stands.
“Thank you, Carmen, this was delicious, as always.” I attempt to distract myself by saying the right things.
Carmen beams at me.
Guilt rushes in. These people took me into their home. Into their family. Into their lives. I’ve completely debauched their daughter. Without any proper courting. Without asking permission. Without a single date. I dragged her into my bed and showed her my dirtiest forms of love-making.
Shit.
People are pushing back their chairs, stacking plates to carry to the kitchen. I need another minute. Or five.
Summer drops her foot and stands with a smirk.
I swing my focus to Al. This man will kill you if he sees you have a boner for his little princess. There. That helped. I take another two breaths before I push back from the table and stand.
I carry my plate to the kitchen and hand it to Summer, who looks far too smug. My beautiful little cock-tease. I’ll show her the consequences of her actions the minute I get her alone. The idea of punishing her puts a smile on my face, and it must look as wicked as my thoughts because Summer’s grin falters.
Twenty-three minutes.
That’s how long it takes for her to emerge from the kitchen. She walks past the living room and toward the bathroom. Pulling out my phone as if I received a message, I stand and excuse myself.
I find her lingering in the hall. She must’ve known I’d follow. I grab her elbow and steer her into the laundry room and shut the door.
In a flash, I pin her against the wall, her wrists pressed over her head, my fingers pinching one of her nipples through her thin cotton t-shirt. Thrusting one leg between her thighs, I lean down and rumble in her ear, “Do you know what happens to girls who tease?”
She writhes against me. “What?”
I yank her skirt up to her waist and use my foot to shove her feet apart. Bringing the palm of my hand smartly up between her legs, I say, “That’s not the way you answer me.”
Her cheeks flush, eyes dilated and glassy.
I slap her pussy again. The gusset of her panties is already damp.
“No, sir,” she yelps.
I slip my fingers inside her panties and find her swollen clit.
She gasps, bucking against me.
Another slap between her legs. My teeth nip her shoulder. “They get their pussies spanked.” My voice is a low rumble, dark and devious.
She arches into me, lifting her breasts to my face. Her pussy opens to my fingers, and I shove two inside, sawing in and out. I pinch her stiffened clit and cover her mouth with my hand as she cries out.
“You may not come.” I yank her panties down to her ankles and make her step out of them.
“What happens if I do?” Her voice is husky with desire.
“You’ll be punished.” Shoving the wad of lace and silk in her mouth, I tap open her thighs and spank her clit.
She moans and pants as I slap her juicy folds again and again. When her cries grow more desperate, I stop and release her wrists and step back.
“You do not have permission to touch yourself on the way home.”
Her face clouds as she realizes I’m not going to get her off.
“Now get in your car and drive straight there,” I murmur. “I want to find you naked, on your knees in the corner when I get back, or you’ll be in even more trouble than you already are. Got it?” I pluck the panties out of her mouth and tuck them in my pocket.
Her eyes follow them with a pleading look.
I shake my head. “No panties for you. And no touching. I need to hear a yes, sir.”
Her throat works as she swallows. She shoves her skirt down and straightens her shirt, looking thoroughly turned on. “Yes, sir.”
I snatch her up with an arm around her waist and yank her body into mine. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be sore for a week.”
Her arms come around my neck, and she lifts those sweet berry lips for a kiss, lust still swirling in her copper-flecked eyes.
I nip her lips instead. “Bad girls don’t get kissed. They get fucked. Hard.” I squeeze her ass. “Now get home and prepare yourself for me.”