by Stone, Piper
“Please.” I jerked back, trying to shield the rare piece, my breathing rapid. “This is priceless, a work of art.”
He took a deep breath, holding it for several seconds before lowering his hand. “Put. It. Back.”
“Yes. Of course.” I was fearful I couldn’t function in order to follow his command, but I managed, knots forming in my stomach. I’d been such a damn fool. What was wrong with me? I waited for a few seconds, unable to face him, but I had no other choice. When I turned back, I could easily tell he’d maintained a level of control, although his jaw remained clenched. I’d never felt more like a bad little girl in my life.
Tilting his head, he studied my eyes then looked away. “I gave you very few rules. Very few.”
“I understand.”
“No, it’s obvious that you don’t. This is my space. Mine.” His body continued to shake, but he took a deep breath and moved away, planting his hands on the piano. “Why would you disobey my command? What in God’s name prompted you to do something like this?”
I had no decent answer, at least one he would want to hear. “Maybe I wanted to get to know you.”
Laughing, he shook his head. “There is no point in doing that, Daniella. I am no one that you want to know. My world is entirely different than yours.”
“So you’ve told me. Is that why you’re caged even in such a beautiful house? Is that why you have four guards surrounding you at all times? Because your world is so entirely different?”
He snapped his head in my direction. “You have no idea what kind of people would enjoy coming into this house and destroying what belongs to me. And I assure you that they would use the most vile and destructive manners in doing so.”
“Because you’ve killed people.” My words were a statement, not a damn question. Maybe he was right. Maybe I had no clue what he was truly made of.
He shook his head again, obviously exasperated. “Until blood had run in the streets. Is that what you want to hear?”
“I…”
His laugh turned into a snarl. “As I said, don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. My life isn’t a fairytale like yours.”
“A fairytale? Right. And you obviously have no clue what real life is like, scraping by in order to pay a few bills, never getting anywhere then being tossed aside as if you don’t mean anything. How could you know? You’re the great King family, self-proclaimed gods of the city. Hell, maybe the universe.” I shrank back, seeing the venom in his eyes.
He fisted his mouth, the fingers of his other hand turning white. “You’re absolutely correct that I have no idea. We’re only criminals to beautiful, intelligent, upstanding citizens like yourself.”
“Yes, you’re a horrible man and I’m just some innocent bystander.”
“Are you really?” He slowly turned his head in my direction.
“Why do you keep insisting that I did anything to hurt you? What do you think you know about me?”
“I know enough, including about your brother.”
My brother? I was shocked, my skin crawling. “What the hell does my brother have to do with this?”
“Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. However, I can see that I’ve struck a chord.”
“What in the hell does Steven have to do with your world?” What could he be getting at?
“You really want me to believe that you don’t know?”
I was incensed, angry for his accusations, although my brother and I certainly weren’t close any longer. Our last conversation had been a vicious argument, my final words that I never wanted to see him again. “I haven’t spoken with him in almost four years. Four peaceful years. I love my brother because he’s family, but I don’t like him very much. His choices have placed a significant strain on my parents and that pisses me off. Whatever he’s done, I have no part of. None.”
He was stone cold as usual, studying me as if I was nothing more than a specimen of curiosity. There was no way to read his expression or what he was thinking.
“Your brother works with a dangerous group of criminals out of Miami.”
“Miami? The last place I knew he lived was Atlanta.”
His hard stare was getting old.
“All right, Daniella. What I value more than anything is honesty, loyalty a close second. That is the only way to develop trust. If I find you’re lying to me, I will have no recourse but to handle the situation accordingly.”
I laughed nervously. “Does that mean you’ll kill me?”
Damn it. I hated the way he was staring at me, dissecting every word, every syllable.
“Come here,” he commanded.
The lump remained my throat as I walked closer. I felt small in comparison to the larger than life man, his six-foot three-inch frame towering over mine. When he lifted his hand, I involuntarily flinched.
He hesitated before cupping my cheek. While his hold was firm, it wasn’t threatening in any way, just… commanding, completely like the man himself.
“While I am a very bad man and I’ve done some horrible things, I’ve yet to harm a woman, let alone find it necessary to end her life. However, punishment is entirely different. You broke the rules. You must pay.”
“You don’t believe me. Do you?”
“Sadly, it remains to be seen whether or not you’re lying to me. Rest assured that I will find out one way or the other. That doesn’t change the fact you violated my personal space.”
“I’m sorry, Michael.”
As he rubbed his thumb across my cheek, he tilted his head. “Why the violin?”
“Because I used to play a long time ago and I miss it very much. While I realize you’re not a musician and can’t understand the burning need to experience the joy of getting lost in the music, I meant no harm. If I caused you pain, I apologize. That wasn’t my intent.” Although there was a certain discord in my tone, I continued to quiver from the anticipation of what he was going to do. The ugliness of the vision swept perpetually through my mind, my heart skipping several beats.
“Remove your clothes, Daniella.”
I hated the way he said my name, every syllable full of authority.
As if I’d belonged to him my entire life, a plaything he could arbitrarily discipline whenever he felt it necessary.
“Don’t require me to ask twice.”
He lowered his head as if prepared to kiss me then moved away, turning his back to me completely. I couldn’t move for a few seconds as he removed his jacket, placing it with care over the back of the small couch in the room. He wore a shoulder holster, the glint of his weapon forcing my teeth to chatter. After a few seconds he removed it, placing it underneath his jacket. Then he closed the door, clicking the lock, ensuring no one would walk in on us.
Only then did I shift in another direction, taking gasping breaths before fumbling to jerk the sweater over my shoulders then stepping out of my shoes.
He’d spanked me before but this time it was entirely different, anxiety pooling in my stomach like piranhas feasting on my intestines. Attempting to unfasten my jeans was even more horrible, my fingers numb as I struggled to lower my zipper. As I violently tugged the dense material past my hips, I felt lightheaded, stars floating in front of my eyes.
A part of me wanted to beg him to forgive me, to promise never to do something so stupid, but he wasn’t the kind of man to tolerate excuses any more than lies. I tried to imagine what the hell my brother had done. Who was he working with? Of course, he’d been in trouble with the law, but whoever he’d gotten into bed with was likely on an entirely different level.
When I’d finally finished the task, I’d never felt so ashamed or embarrassed in my life. While I wasn’t a prude by any means, I also didn’t go around parading in the nude. The thought almost brought another nervous laugh to the surface. And during all of this the bastard remained silent, but I could feel his eyes on me, could almost see his filthy thoughts churning in his mind. As I turned around, I covered my breasts with one arm, my bare
pussy with the other.
How ridiculous. He’d already seen every inch of me.
“Bring your clothes to the couch.”
“Okay.”
“You’re going to need to learn respect, Daniella.”
“Please stop saying my name.” I spit out the words before thinking, yanking my clothes into my hands and walking quickly toward the couch. His heated gaze trailed me the entire time.
“Your name is quite lovely, and I have no intention of ceasing to use it. Now, face the piano and place your palms on the top,” he directed.
He’d removed his tie and rolled up his sleeves, now in the process of removing his belt. My God. This was really happening.
I bit my lower lip, refusing to allow him to see any fear. My feet were heavy as I moved toward the piano, still admiring its beauty as I settled into position as required.
“Open your legs for me,” he continued.
Why did I feel like stomping my feet before doing so?
Obey. Just obey.
And so I did.
The quiet in the room was just as unsettling as what was about to happen, although my breathing continued to be pronounced. There was no sound for a full minute, maybe longer. He was actually forcing me to wait. Goosebumps popped over my arms, the same cold chill as before shifting over and down my body to the floor.
I heard his slow approach and grimaced, resisting digging my nails into the polished surface, although a small part of me wanted to smash the violin to slivers.
“Tonight you’re going to receive twenty-five lashes. That should be an excellent reminder that rules are meant to be followed.”
Damn, his voice was imperious. He was enjoying the hell out of this, lording his power and authority over me.
The whooshing sound was nothing like I would have expected, although the slight crack of his wrist was pronounced. I closed my eyes, gritting my teeth. When the first hard strike was issued, I felt nothing. Perhaps because of the level of adrenaline rushing through me or maybe because of fear. While the force tossed me forward, I recovered quickly, a roar of anger shifting into my system. How dare he do this? I was just his hired help. I shoved hard against the piano, immediately rewarded with a forceful push from his hand.
“Fighting me isn’t in your best interest,” he hissed.
He didn’t hesitate, delivering four in rapid succession. Almost instantly the pain jetted into every cell and muscle, nearly destroying my resolve, a slight whimper slipping up from my throat. I blinked several times, shoving away the tears that had already formed. The bastard wasn’t going to see me cry.
Like some bad little girl.
No way.
Not in this lifetime.
His footsteps drew closer and when he pressed his hand on the small of my back, I almost lashed out. Instead, I took gulping breaths, twisting my hips back and forth.
“You’re doing very well.”
I opened my mouth to retort then thought better of it. Every synapse was on fire, my blood racing. When he slipped his fingers down the crack of my ass, I hung my head, stars in vibrant colors floating in front of my eyes.
“And you’re very wet. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying this.”
“No!”
He chuckled, his fingers brushing across my pussy lips. “Your body tells me otherwise. We continue.”
We? Who the hell was he kidding?
He gave me four additional cracks, one coming after the other, two hitting my upper thighs. This time, there was no holding back my anguished whimpers.
“Oh… Please stop. I just…” What could I say that would make any difference?
“That’s enough. I won’t tolerate any more of your insolence. You earned yourself a severe punishment and that’s what you’re getting.”
He issued four more, each one harder than the one before. I was confused, the scent of my feminine wiles wafting into my face, filling my nostrils. Was I actually excited from this wretched, horrible experience? The answer was terrifying. Yes. I realized I’d fallen against the piano, one leg bending at the knee from the agony, but all I could think about was his rugged body and the touch of his hand. No. I had to fight this man any way I could. He wasn’t going to rule me. Not now. Not ever.
“Hold your position or I will start again. Do you understand me?”
“Fine. Yes. Sir.” Now I had no issue with the anger in my voice. Myriad evil thoughts rushed into my mind. The thought of killing him one day bolstered my courage. I threw my head back, inhaling as deeply as possible, clenching the edge of the piano. He wasn’t going to break me, and I knew that’s exactly what he wanted to do.
Fuck him.
“Imagine all the things that could happen if you’d only be a very good girl.”
I couldn’t resist laughing. The heat on my body was explosive, burning the backs of my legs and he actually believed I could give a shit about being a nice girl in order to receive his good graces? Oh, he was out of his mind.
When I didn’t answer, he continued to plant one strike after another. I lost count after a few seconds, doing nothing more than praying this bullshit was going to be over. I would never allow him to put me in this kind of position again. Not once.
The spanking continued. Long, hard, and thorough.
By the time he moved closer again, I could no longer think straight, the odd sense of anguish shifting into a surreal, sickening kind of pleasure that was troubling.
I felt the tickle of his fingers as he traced my spine, brushing the tips over one bruised and aching side of my bottom then the other.
“I find it difficult to resist you,” he said quietly, once again dipping his fingers to my pussy, sliding them up and down several times. “However, you seem to forget that I can and will take you in any manner I see fit. You belong to me. The sooner you begin to accept and follow through with the deal you made, the better off your experience will be.”
Yeah? Well, I can resist you.
I almost said the words out loud.
And they weren’t true. Even after the harsh round of discipline, he still excited me. Big, bold, and brutal, the rough round of sex the night before had awakened something buried deep inside.
When he slipped the belt between my legs, rubbing the strap into my wetness, all I could think about was the dirty fantasy.
Being stripped and bound in chains.
Being teased then whipped like a bad girl.
Being fucked in every hole.
“Next time, I’ll whip your pussy. Something for you to keep in mind.”
I couldn’t stop quivering. His words were a promise, likely a desire for the sadistic man. “That’s not going to happen,” I managed.
Michael reached around me, placing the belt on the piano then planting his hands mere inches from mine. He leaned in, grinding his pelvis against my bruised bottom, driving a series of electrified sensations in every direction. Why did I crave this man? Please, no.
“We shall see. It would seem you have difficulty following rules, which surprises me given the kind of woman you are.”
“I follow rules that make sense, but when someone is obviously hiding something, I tend to be quizzical.”
“Be careful, Daniella. Discovering the truth might destroy you.”
His words were more haunting than any he’d said before. He pressed his lips against the side of my neck as he continued grinding against me. I closed my eyes, willing my body to ignore him, but the feel of his throbbing cock was far too enticing. His breathing heavy, he eased my hair behind my shoulder, dragging his tongue down the nape of my neck.
While I continued to shiver, my nipples aching from the thought of being touched, I’d seen straight into his blackened soul. He wasn’t merely ruthless and brutal. He was lost to the monster he’d become with no hope for salvation.
“Do you still long to get inside my head, to touch the mind of a murderer?”
“Why do you want me to hate you? Why? What are you so af
raid of, Michael? Caring again? Living instead of existing?”
He rolled his knuckles from one side of my bottom to the other. “You underestimate what brings me joy.”
Swallowing hard, I gave into my anxiety, clawing at the piano.
“Tsk. Tsk. I thought you didn’t want to destroy beautiful things.” He swirled me around to face him, the quickness of his move startling me.
I pressed my hands against him, pushing with everything I had inside of me, but he was far too strong, keeping me pinned against the piano. There was a wildness to him tonight, unforgiving and savage. What kind of business could change his personality to such a degree?
He clutched my jaw, tilting my head and forcing me to look directly in his eyes. “Don’t psychoanalyze me, Daniella. You will never find what you’re looking for.” Inhaling, his eyelids became half closed as he slid his open fingers down my face, wrapping them around my throat.
I remained still, trying not to react in any way.
Chuckling, he lifted me onto the piano then walked around the side, retrieving my wine. His actions continued to shock me. When I refused to accept the glass, he lifted my arm, forcing the goblet into my hand.
“Drink,” he whispered, the husky sound barely audible.
I took a sip purposely, praying I wouldn’t gag on the wine.
He pulled the piano bench away, tapping my legs as he attempted to slide between them. I curled my legs under me, unable to stop shaking. When he moved the cover away from the keys, I became entranced. After taking a deep breath, he began to play, his long fingers dancing over the keys. He’d obviously been trained, his talent unbelievable.
I was mesmerized from his raw facial expressions as well as his body language, swaying to the music and falling into the darkness of the sonata. Nothing could have surprised me as much as his technique, his ability to drag every note and chord to the very edge of passion, the haunting sound yanking at my emotions.
I couldn’t believe his eyes were closed and he didn’t miss a single note. When he finished, I realized I’d been holding my breath the entire time.
