“What has gotten into Dad?” asked Leonas curiously as I entered the library where I had sent him and Anna for them to practice their instruments. Leonas pressed the keys of the piano half-heartedly, and Anna, too, only randomly pulled the strings of her harp. She had never warmed up to the piano, so we had successfully transitioned her to the harp two years earlier.
“He’s just a little stressed. He has a lot of work to do.”
“Is it because Uncle Horace is a traitor?”
I frowned, wondering where Anna got that sentence. It was impossible to keep it from him. At only nine and six years old, my children knew more than I wanted them to.
“I don’t know. Don’t worry, all right?
Everything will be fine. Your father just needs some time to work in peace.”
“Okay,” Anna mumbled and began to play a beautiful song on her harp.
Leonas got up from the piano bench and walked toward me. I ran a hand through his hair, which had grown longer again, so he had to blow it out of his eyes again and again. “When I am Chief, I will fire Rocco’s father. I don’t want him as my Councilor.”
I stifled a smile and hugged him to me. “That’s a long time away. I’m sure he’ll be retired by then.”
“If he doesn’t, I’ll have him killed.”
I froze. “Leonas, don’t talk like that.”
He looked up curiously. “Why not, it’s the truth. Dad always kills people.”
Anna pulled the strings of the harp tighter and hummed to the melody.
I lowered my voice and gave him a stern look. “Who said that?”
“Rocco and Riccardo. Their father talks to them about a lot of things. And I heard Enzo and Taft in the kitchen, too.”
“Don’t believe everything you hear.”
He tilted his head. “But it’s true, isn’t it? The Mafia kills people and Dad tells his soldiers who. Like traitors and people they don’t like.”
I didn’t know what to say to him. He was six years old, he was a small child, yet he knew these things, he talked about death as if it was something ordinary. I swallowed. “You know you shouldn’t talk about these things with other people, right?”
“I know,” Leonas said. “You and Dad always say we have to keep it a secret. I never tell the Outsiders anything.”
I looked at my watch. “Go right back to practicing the piano. Have you finished your homework?”
Leonas made a sullen face. “Yes.” I gently pushed him toward the piano, then headed toward Anna, who was staring at her fingers with forced concentration. I squatted beside her stool. Her long brown hair flowed down her back, and I smoothed it gently. Anna turned to me, her blue eyes full of concern. Every time she looked at me, my breath would stop for a moment. She was such a beautiful girl, inside and out.
“Does Father kill all traitors? Even family members?”
Anna had loved Horace and had been sad when he disappeared. I wished she had never found out that he had become a traitor. “Father try to be a good leader for his men and a good father for you and Leonas, Anna. Don’t worry about these things. They don’t concern our lives.”
It was a lie, of course. The mass dominated every aspect of our lives.
Anna tightened her lips. “That’s why I’m not allowed to go to a normal school.”
She was right.
“It’s because you’re a girl and can’t protect yourself,” Leonas interjected.
Anna looked at him grimly. “You can’t protect yourself either !”
“You can too. That’s why I can go there and you can’t!”
“Enough, Leonas. Concentrate on your practice.” I touched Anna’s hand. “Your father is a little more protective of us girls than Leonas.”
An argument had arisen between us when Leonas had started private school almost two years earlier while Anna continued to be homeschooled, but Dante had not budged. He wanted Leonas to be surrounded by other children so he would learn to stand up for himself. Anna, on the other hand, had remained in her protected cocoon at home.
“Do you want to go to Leonas’ school?”
She bit her lip and nodded.
“We’ll see what we can do. Maybe next year.”
“Okay,” he said. I got up and left them to their practice.
I was not going to start a discussion about school options with Dante today. He was not in the state of mind to do so. Instead, I headed to my office to plan my next visit to our largest brothel, frequented by Chicago’s elite, mostly politicians.
The children and I dined alone, something that hardly ever happened now. I refrained from knocking on Dante’s door to ask him to join us. He knew we always ate at the same time.
Once the children were in bed, I changed and put on my nightgown, but sleep eluded me, so I went back to the office to work some more, but just before midnight I decided to look for Dante again. He couldn’t hide in his office forever.
I knocked and again broke in without waiting for an answer. It annoyed Dante, but sometimes it was the best way to get a quick reaction from him and not give him time to compose himself. I hated it when he tried to put a mask on in front of me, even if he was only doing it to protect me.
Annoyance flashed across Dante’s face. He was hunched over his desk covered with a wild array of papers.
His jacket hung off the chair and his vest lay on the floor beside his feet. He usually never dropped his clothes on the floor. The fact that he didn’t care showed how busy his mind was. “Val, I told you I have to work.”
A half-empty whiskey glass was leaning precariously near the edge of the desk where Dante seemed to have placed it without much care. His half-closed eyes observed me and something in them made me shiver slightly.
Slowly, he ran his gaze over my body. Barefoot and in his nightgown, he had a lot to take in. “It’s midnight. Come to bed.”
He straightened up with a look somewhere between anger and a familiar hunger. The first two buttons of his shirt were open and he had rolled up his sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms. I moved closer and his eyes followed the shift of my hips, then moved higher up to my breasts. My nipples hardened under his scrutiny. “When will you learn to do what I say?”
I paused on the other side of the desk. “When you start taking better care of yourself. It’s late. You need to rest.”
“I don’t want to rest,” she said in a voice I heard right between my legs. Whatever had happened today, and I would find out what it was later, had shaken Dante more than anything in a while. He was tense and angry. He needed to vent, and seeing him like that excited me.
Dante surprised me by leaning over the desk, grabbing my neck and pulling me toward him for a rough kiss. When he drew back, both hunger and anger had intensified in his eyes. “Fuck you, Val. You’re too damn stubborn.”
I could see that Dante had every intention of punishing me that day. It had become our little role-playing game, sometimes more serious than other times. It was a chance for both of us to loosen up, and Dante needed it that day.
Dante let me go and took a sip of scotch before ordering. “Get changed. I expect you to be ready when I arrive .”
Biting my lip, I hurried up the stairs and put on a light slip that barely covered my bottom, panties with a slit in the crotch for easy access and suspenders. We had given up heels a while ago. They made things too uncomfortable.
Waiting for Dante in our bedroom, I was already getting wet.
When he finally entered with an expression of grim hunger and domination, I had to restrain myself from throwing myself at him. “Hold on to the bedpost. Give me your back.”
I obeyed immediately and clasped my hands around the wooden upright as Dante’s shoes ticked on the floorboards.
Dante’s heat pressed into me and he tied my hands to the post with a satin band. He tugged at my arms, then made a satisfied sound when I could not free myself. With my arms above my head, I waited for Dante’s next move. He wrapped a shawl around my eyes, taking away my vision. I shuddered at the loss of this sense.
I loved our little role-playing games. They kept things interesting even after years of marriage and two children.
Then Dante stepped back, depriving me of his warmth.
“Bend your back and spread your legs wider.”
I did as he asked and waited. I was already so eager for his touch, for his cock, that it was driving me crazy.
The rustle of his clothes and the soft click of his Budapesters told me he was close, but I still couldn’t feel it. A finger slipped between my folds and I held back a groan. “I like it when you give me easy access to your pussy.” He ran his finger over my opening, drawing out my wetness. His teeth dug into my lower lip to keep me from making a sound.
“You’re always dripping for me, Val, aren’t you?” he croaked , pulling back and I felt him licking his finger to clean it. I shuddered , sticking out my butt even more, a silent plea.
“You tested my patience today, Val. I’m not going to make it easy for you.” His palm slid along my inner thigh, then his mouth followed, warm and moist. I groaned. “Please.”
“No sound,” he growled, and I became even more aroused . My body buzzed with desire, my toes curled as my insides contracted in anticipation of Dante’s touch.
He let out a warm breath and ran his tongue along the edge of my suspenders. I bit my lip, desperate and impatient, and close to losing it. Had my hands not been tied, I would have sunk my fingers inside me, but as it was, I had to submit to Dante’s torture. He bit my skin lightly, making me moan against the pole. And then finally, he touched my opening with two fingers and pushed in slowly, gently. But I needed more. I moved my hips.
“No.”
I froze, whimpering as Dante slowed his fingers even more. His breath was warm against my inner thigh. I knew he was watching me closely as he slid his fingers into my pussy, and the mere knowledge tripled my lust. “Spread your legs wider.”
I did so, and Dante’s deep breath was the best reward. His fingers were fully sheathed inside me and my muscles contracted around him, begging for friction, for him to slam inside me, to touch my clit. Instead, Dante slowly rotated his fingers, which was great, but not enough, not enough . “Patience,” he said slowly as if he could read my mind, or more likely read my impatient body. I wanted his tongue so badly, and then his cock. By now I could no longer think straight.
He slowly pulled his fingers out and then stood up.
“Open your mouth.” He slid his fingers past my lips, letting me taste myself. I took advantage of this and swirled my tongue around his fingers, then sucked them as I would have done with his cock if only he had let me.
He untied my hands and guided me to the bed. I sank down and then lay down, waiting for him. The mattress sagged under his weight and then my blindfold disappeared.
I opened my eyes, but it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the brightness again. Dante slid down my panties and pushed my knees against my chest until I was fully exposed to him. My lips parted in desire, knowing what was coming. He leaned down and ran his tongue along my slit, once, twice.
“So fucking eager for my tongue.” He looked over my pussy as his hand massaged my buttock.
“Yes,” I whispered, wanting him to continue, to feel his tongue inside me. His blue eyes stared at me as he slowly dragged his tongue back and forth over my folds, playing lightly with them. I bit my lower lip to stifle any sound. Dante drew back again and his commanding eyes settled on my pussy. He squeezed my buttock and my center contracted, and a new wave of arousal came out.
Dante’s breathing deepened, a dark smile curved his mouth because he saw.
“Remember, no sound and no ejaculation until I let you,” he croaked , and then he pressed his mouth to my pussy and sucked my folds between his lips, first lightly and then harder, and I moaned, trembled, and became even wetter.
I knew it would be easier not to come if I didn’t watch, but the sight of this powerful man between my thighs was the most erotic thing in the world and I couldn’t deprive myself of it .
Dante loosened my folds. “Delicious,” he murmured, and parted my lips. Even I could see how swollen and red my clit was, desperate for release, for attention.
“No sound, no ejaculation,” Dante demanded.
I gave an abrupt nod of assent, and with his eyes on me, he licked along my slit with the flat part of his tongue, then popped the tip on my clit. And again. His tongue warm and moist. Firm, then soft. He repeated the same twisting motion over and over again, his eyes staring into mine, watching my desperation for the desire to come, for the need to come.
My fingers dug into his knees, my teeth into his lower lip. “Dante,” I said.
“No,” he growled, and he circled my opening with his tongue the way I loved to do it, and I began to tremble, my orgasm wanting to explode.
Dante pulled back and sat up.
“Please!” I gasped.
He shook his head. “No, you were going to come.
I didn’t let you.”
I glared at him, but at the same time I shuddered with a new wave of desire for his dominance. I started to lower my legs, but Dante shook his head. “Stay like that, open for me and dripping.”
He stood up and slowly removed his clothes. It took considerable restraint not to rip them all off and pull him on top of me. He climbed onto the bed and knelt beside my head, smiling darkly. Remembering the early days of our marriage, when I feared Dante would be a cold fish in bed, almost made me laugh. He pushed a pillow under my head so I was at eye level with his erection. ” Now you will suck my cock, and if you do well, I will lick you again and let you come.”
I nodded.
“Open your lips,” he ordered. I did so without hesitation, and he slid his cock in until it hit the back of my throat.
Holding my head still, he began to thrust inside me, slowly fucking my mouth. His control was relenting and, as usual, he gave me a sense of triumph.