by Piper Stone
When he was finished, he stood back, eyeing me as if admiring a fine work of art that he’d created. I was mortified, so ashamed that I’d allowed myself to fall into this position. I was surprised when he didn’t lift me high off the floor, but grateful I could feel it beneath my feet.
“Beautiful. Perfect.”
I’d never felt perfect in my life.
He enjoyed a full minute of dragging the damn whip across every inch of my body, creating a wave of tension then tingles exploding furiously. By the time he’d rolled the piece up the back of my leg, I was no longer certain I would be able to get enough air into my lungs.
I wasn’t prepared for the first crack, the whooshing sound the only indication the round of punishment had begun. There was no easy going on his end, the leather ends hitting directly on my sit spot. A series of stinging sensations mixed together with a moment of raw pain coursing through me.
“Oh. Oh!”
When he landed three more in rapid succession, I thought I was going to lose my mind. I lurched forward, the clanging sound of metal against metal I’d imagined before coming true. The light brush of his fingers across his handywork fueled both the fire already combusting as well as a rapid explosion of humiliation. I couldn’t think or focus, had no ability to express my feelings.
The cracking sound slithered into my mind, every strike jolting. I lost count after four more were given, the pain moving into anguish. I jerked and pulled, whimpering like the bad little girl I obviously was. Nothing could have prepared me for the myriad emotions or the dazzling sensations crisscrossing my skin. The buildup of heat on my bottom was disgusting yet scintillating. How could anything like this actually feel good on any level?
I was out of sorts, gasping when he moved around the side, facing me once again. He cupped my jaw, issuing a long and husky growl.
“Look at me, Acadia.”
I did as I was told, surprised to see such an incredible shimmer in his eyes. He was enjoying the hell out of this. Even the way his chest rose and fell rapidly was an indication.
“What does it feel like?” he asked ever so quietly.
“I’m not certain.”
“Hmmm…” Vincenzo slid the whip between my legs, snapping the tails on the inside of one thigh then the other, finally cracking the leather against my pussy.
Oh. My. God.
“Oh…” My scream was high pitched. Stars floated in front of my eyes as I comprehended what he’d just done. I couldn’t believe it. And worse… My pussy was aching even more, clamping and releasing as if the hard strike would push me into a climax. No! That wasn’t possible.
He repeated the action twice then pulled the leather under his nose, inhaling deeply. “You’re wet and excited. Yes?”
There was no way I could even lie, the scent of my juice floating between us. “Yes. Yes, sir.”
“Good girl. Now, maybe you’re beginning to understand.”
I was cognizant he’d shifted behind me once again. When he delivered four cracks across my bottom in a row, I dropped my head, crazed that an actual smile crossed my face. I didn’t know how long the spanking lasted, lost to the world until I noticed him wiping the strap before returning it to the cabinet. When he moved toward one of the others, I almost begged him not to select anything else.
Even as adrenaline rushed through my body, pure exhaustion settled in, every muscle aching. I tried to pay attention to what he was doing but couldn’t keep my eyes open. Then I heard a whirring sound and jerked my head. What was he going to do to me? The feel of a vibrator dancing against my pussy lips almost threw me into an orgasm immediately.
I bucked, tossing my head from side to side, the act nothing more than tossing gasoline onto the fire. In his hand he held a Magic Wand. I was thrown into an entire world of ecstasy, goosebumps covering every inch of my body.
He took his time rolling the massive head up and down my pussy, a smile curling on his lips. “What do you feel, Acadia?”
What was I supposed to say? “Euphoria.”
“Exactly. Pain and pleasure.”
I kept the words in the back of my mind as he turned the vibrator onto high. The sensations were almost too much to take. I struggled and twisted, bucking like some wild animal. Within seconds, I was tossed into the sublime, a climax ripping through me like a massive tidal wave. I know I opened my mouth to scream, but the only sounds were bedraggled moans.
“That’s it. Come for me,” he instructed, his words echoing in my ears.
“Yes. Yes, sir.” I said the words as if I meant them. So easy.
So telling.
He was slowly breaking through every wall and barrier, stripping me of any protection I had for myself.
“Good girl.” He rewarded me with another round, his guttural sounds matching my own.
I was immediately tossed into a second orgasm that drained every ounce of energy. I was nothing but a lost girl, uncertain of my surroundings, the pleasure that intense.
Ecstasy continued to roll through me in wave after wave, pushing me into another level of pleasure altogether. I was thrown by the vibrations, the electricity shooting through me.
When the whirring stopped, I cried out, my eyes opening wide.
He inched closer, cupping my jaw and rubbing his thumb across my skin, his actions so gentle I was floored. “You’re so damn gorgeous when you come.”
The few seconds we shared as he stared into my eyes was entirely different than before. While I couldn’t understand his raw emotions, the complex man so difficult to figure out, I could tell a part of him had changed somehow.
But what did it mean?
Exhaling, he moved away, cleaning then replacing the vibrator, saying nothing as he unshackled me. When he folded me into his arms, holding and caressing my back, I laid my head on his shoulder. As I tried to catch my breath, the feel of his heartbeat pushed into my chest.
He seemed tense as he eased down onto one of the couches, keeping me in his lap and brushing his fingers through my hair. His breathing ragged, he said nothing for several minutes, merely comforting me.
Words.
They could do as much harm as any physical abuse. I knew that as well as anything. They could provoke fear to the point of madness. They could also create an overwhelming sadness.
But this time, the words he used were more heartfelt than any I’d heard in my life.
They were also the ones that terrified me the most.
“I’m never letting you out of my sight. If anyone tries, they will die by my hands.”
Chapter 11
Vincenzo
Patience.
I wasn’t the kind of man who had any or valued the concept on any level. In fact, I refused to be patient about anything. My mother had always tried to express that it was a virtue, my lack of patience something that would hold me back in business as well as in life. Bullshit. It was nothing but a weakness. Waiting for the asshole to make his move was ridiculous.
Even the giant biker had ignored my command, adding to the swirl of rage and uncertainty, both festering to the point I was ready to exact revenge.
My instincts continued to nag me, forming a haze around my eyes.
While De Luca had yet to come up with anything concrete, he’d send an early morning text message that proven to be interesting.
The four simple words were sent without any explanation.
The threat is real.
Sharing that with my father and Cristiano should be interesting. I strolled into the restaurant, surprised to see that Cristiano had managed to get Pops out of the house for something as mundane as lunch. Granted, the Italian location had been one of his favorites from the early days. How many birthdays had been spent inside one of the private rooms? Far too many. I hadn’t been to Vincent’s in years, preferring anything but Italian food. My father had always told me I’d been named after the place since I’d been conceived after a festive night of partying in the restaurant. However, I hadn’t arrived for a soc
ial visit.
My father rose to his feet, slapping his hands on my arms. “It’s good to see you, Vinny.”
He was the only one who’d been allowed to shorten my name. “Pops. You’re looking good.”
“You know your mother, always nagging me about my health. Don’t you boys dare tell her I was here.” As he sat down, he laughed gregariously, although as always, he swept the restaurant with his eyes, searching for any sign of trouble. The owner had always catered to him, providing our family with a table in the corner, allowing a full view of the restaurant without fear of being caught off guard.
Cristiano winked as I sat down. “It’s almost Father’s birthday. I thought what the hell. And he insisted. He keeps talking about a celebration of some kind.”
I could tell my father had something up his sleeve.
“You are staying for lunch. Yes?” my father demanded.
“Can’t do it, Pops. I’m taking Acadia out for dinner at the Brasa tonight.” I instantly regretted saying the words given the look shared between them.
“Ah, the Brasa Churrasqueria. One fine steakhouse.” My father laughed as he motioned for the waiter. “You need wine at least. After all, this is a celebration.”
“Not at eleven-thirty in the morning. I’m fine with water. What are we celebrating?”
“Patience, my boy. As your mama always told you. That’s a weakness within this family,” my father chided.
Cristiano laughed. “Maybe so. Let’s talk about Gio De Luca.”
After shaking his head and cursing in Italian, he took a sip of his water then tossed the napkin he’d curled over the neck of his shirt onto the table. “What’s this with the boy, De Luca?”
“The boy is now a man, Father,” Cristiano said as he leaned over the table, his glass of water remaining untouched.
“It would seem his earlier warning holds true, or at least according to a text I received this morning,” I stated as I glanced at the crowd, noticing at least a few curious gazes shifting in our direction every few seconds.
“What did it say?” Cristiano asked.
“The threat is real.” I half laughed after repeating it, taking a sip from the glass of water in front of me. “By the way, Gio hungers for a taste of Angelique.”
“Not gonna happen,” Cristiano stated quickly. “Dimitri wouldn’t allow that anyway.”
“Yes, your Capo is far too interested in her. Then again, she’s been promised to that thug, Azzurri,” I chastised.
My brother just rolled his eyes. Angelique would fight us if we fixed her up with anyone.
“My daughter will never be married off to any scum, including a member of the De Luca family.” My father slammed his hand on the table with enough force one of the water glasses tipped over. “Un mucchio di merda!”
I had to agree that it was a crock of shit, but De Luca was enjoying his participation in putting the screws to us.
Cristiano placed his hand on my father’s arm, giving the man a slight shake of his head. “Agreed, but there is little we can do about it. De Luca might just be yanking our chain anyway.”
After my father took a swig of his water, he stared me in the eyes. “There is one way to find out. I will have a discussion with Luciano myself and find out what the fuck is going on.”
“Do you think that’s wise, Pops?” I asked quietly, bristling as I noticed the very district attorney who’d been hounding Cristiano since his release from prison entering the restaurant. I gave my brother a nod and a slant of my eyes.
He followed my gaze, taking a deep breath. “I’ve seen the man three times this week. What are the chances that’s coincidental?”
“Likely zero, but I don’t think we want to draw any attention to our concern at this point,” I cautioned.
There was something awe inspiring about my father, including the vicious looks he was still able to provide. He’d been the kind of Boss that with one look, you knew if you were going to live or die.
While he kept his gaze locked on the man, he offered a large, engaging smile. “You forget, my Vinny, that Luciano and I were good friends.”
“Were, Pops,” I chortled. Luciano De Luca, the man my father admired and loathed.
“You never forget or forgo your family or friends, Vinny. That’s very important for you to learn. Even if they turn against you, everyone has secrets.”
I glanced at Cristiano, a single look allowing us to share our amusement. “I won’t forget, Pops. I don’t know what Luciano could know, however.”
“He and his son are tight. If something is going on, I am certain Luciano will find out.” When my father pushed back his chair, moving to a standing position, both my brother and I did the same.
I shifted, able to see the hostess coming our way, both the prosecuting attorney and a guest forced to walk past our table. Griffin Williams was a snake in the grass, unscrupulous in his manners of procuring evidence against whatever criminal element he was determined to toss into prison. Cristiano had taken the brunt of the man’s rise to power, and Griffin was still furious that my brother had been released after only a few months.
Word on the street continued to swirl with hints that Mr. Williams was prepared to bring charges against the entire family. The only comfort was the fact the rumor had been sweeping through our informants for months. If the bastard had anything concrete, he would have followed through with his threats.
“Mr. King. How good to see you,” Griffin acknowledged my father, even giving him a nod of respect. As they shook hands, I could tell my father’s grip was as if the man was suddenly twenty again, the strain on Griffin’s face provoking an inward smile.
“Griffin. I understand you’re doing well.”
Griffin shifted his gaze in our direction, obviously uncomfortable as hell. He likely hadn’t anticipated my father being so bold. He’d been vying for the district attorney’s position since the day he’d arrived in New Orleans, fixating on the King family immediately.
“I’m doing well,” Griffin said, trying his best to sound authoritative.
My father broke the handshake, taking his time to stare at the man. “Well, I should let you get to your lunch.”
After Griffin shot Cristiano a nasty look, he started to walk away. My father waited until the man had taken two steps. “Oh, Griffin. It should be an interesting election coming up, although sadly, I know that you’re way behind in the polls. I doubt you’re going to have a snowball’s chance in hell of winning.”
Griffin sighed and turned around, trying to keep a plastic smile on his face.
“I mean the position you were banking on by railroading my son into prison is likely impossible. I can’t imagine the sleepless nights you’ve had since your competition stepped up to the plate.”
Griffin took a deep breath and I couldn’t help but notice a single bead of sweat was dripping down the side of his face. I held a smile, uncertain what my father was getting at.
“I… I don’t know what you mean. I follow the law,” Griffin insisted. “As far as the election, we shall see. I have thousands of supporters.”
“Well, that may be the case. Anyway. I know the man running against you very well. Paul Winters was a good buddy of mine from years ago. I’m certain he’ll be an excellent boss. Of course, he usually does like to clean house. That’s something for you to keep in mind. Enjoy your lunch, Griffin, as well as your expense account while you can.” My father immediately sat down, motioning for the waiter, who arrived quickly. “Luigi, we’re having a celebration. Wine all around.”
“Yes, sir,” the waiter said.
I turned my head, also smiling at Griffin. His face reddened but he walked away.
“Do you want to tell what the hell you’re talking about?” Cristiano asked.
“I told you we were celebrating,” Pops said, the same wide grin on his face. “Retirement isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. I can’t stand playing golf.”
Coughing, I was forced to reach for the water. “
I thought you loved it.”
“Hate the game. It’s for pinheads and lazy assholes who can’t handle real action. Anyway, I thought I’d bring a resolution to our situation with Mr. Williams. Paul Winters is a fine candidate. He’s good people, if you know what I mean.”
Cristiano narrowed his eyes. “Didn’t he move to New York years ago?”
“He did, but now he’s back. Can’t stand the cold up there. He’s itching to get back into upholding the law down south.” As Luigi brought the wine, my father sat back in his chair, just as commanding as he’d been in his prime. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the man was the picture of good health.
“You really think he can win?” my brother asked.
“Over that little fuck?” Pops threw a look over his shoulder. “Trust me, boys. I might not be on the front lines every day, but your old man still has it. Come November, that kid will be praying to God he can get a job waiting tables.”
Both Cristiano and I laughed, lifting our glasses in both a toast of celebration as well as honoring a man who deserved not only our respect but our love.
“A una vita lunga e fruttousa piena di amore e di vendetta.” My father’s booming voice carried throughout the restaurant.
Cristiano leaned over, lifting a single eyebrow. “To a long and fruitful life full of love and revenge?”
My father shrugged. “Sounds like something the kids say these days. Now, let’s eat.”
I watched the animation in my father, the joy in his eyes from providing his own level of protection for his family. He would do anything to ensure our health and safety.
Including revenge.
Or allowing his own death.
That’s what I wanted out of life.
And love.
My thoughts drifted to Acadia. While there was no rhyme or reason for me to either trust or care about her, I was beginning to do both.
Perhaps if I peeled away the layers, I’d realize that I was falling hard for the girl.
I’d spent the better part of the day checking on various operations in my charge, including grilling several of my soldiers. The wait and see remained, but I wasn’t going to tolerate it much longer.
