Sinners & Gin

by Alta Hensley

  That thought unleashed something foreign from deep inside, and I stopped what I was doing to look up at her for a long moment as a rage the likes of which I had rarely felt ran through me that I knew I was going to have to ignore. She wasn’t mine… really. She wasn’t anyone’s, except perhaps the daughter of Vittorio Costa. Yes, I kidnapped her, but it was temporary. This wouldn’t last long.

  And I knew I had to stop thinking about all of the men who had come before me. They didn’t matter here and now anyway. I was going to soil this mafia princess in the most severe revenge fuck ever, even if it cost me my life, which it damned well might.

  I liked to control my woman, especially in bed. I liked to drive her insane to the point where she thought her heart was going to stop beating before I let her fly, and I had a feeling that might be exactly what she would like the most.

  To be controlled, as much as she might protest against the idea.

  And I loved to punish them. To find one who actually became aroused by being spanked… She was a rare gem indeed, and if the circumstances were different, I might even have been able to look beyond her family bloodline in order to have exclusive rights to her—and I would make damned sure it was exclusive. But circumstances were not different. They were what they were.

  Fuck her now. Ransom business later.

  With those thoughts, I began to move my tongue with more force and speed.

  And she was already right there, right on the edge. I recognized the pleading sound of her groans and whimpers, but I would not allow her to peak that quickly. It went against my grain. So, I carefully timed both the rhythm of my mouth and tongue as well as my hold on her breasts—using that to back her off or move her further toward my goal for her.

  Guiding her.

  Tempting her.

  Almost training her by the judicious, and vicious, use of pain and pleasure until I could hear that there was going to be no return from this last erotic assault.

  I lifted my head for the first time in a very long time and said, “Come, princess, come. Quickly. I’m just itching to take my belt to your ass if you hold back.”

  I felt her hips jerk at my threat, and despite the fact that I could hear her muffled chant of, “No, no, no!” seconds later she was a mindless mass of writhing ecstasy, her breath hissing loudly out of her lungs only to be dragged slowly back in, her every muscle taut with the rigor of the intense pleasure I had brought her to, head whipping back and forth against the pillow.

  It took all my will and strength to quickly get off the bed and reach for the bag nearby that held a condom. As much as I was tempted by placing my seed inside of her to piss off Vittorio Costa even more, I wasn’t ready to go down that road yet.

  Yet…

  Before she had a chance to recover much at all, I moved to position myself, pressing my overeager dick against an opening I could barely find for all of the wetness surrounding it. And as much as she seemed to still be in the grips of her own bliss, she apparently had the presence of mind to have decided to fight me again, but I wasn’t going to have any of that.

  Since I knew I would disgrace myself entirely if I disciplined her again, I instead pinned her wrists to the bed, one on each side of her head and commanded, “Look at me, princess.”

  She whipped her head back and forth in protest until I gripped her wrists with one of mine, and with the other, I reached down and twisted a nipple until she complied, and that was the first time I came face to face with the stark evidence of…

  Fear. Yes, fear.

  And good. She should fear me.

  It would make this entire plan easier if she did. And fucking her or not, I would hold on to that fear.

  I had her eyes now; they were locked with mine, and although I wanted to be a good enough man to stop at this point because she was so obviously afraid, I knew I wasn’t that good a man. Especially now. Maybe I never had been, but events of late had stripped away a lot of my veneer of civilization, and I guessed this was just one more strip of flesh off my hide.

  At least she’d had her pleasure, I knew that without a doubt, and I’d offer some soft kisses and affection when I was done. That would ease my conscience—for a while, anyway. And maybe this was her game. This little vixen liked to pretend she didn’t enjoy it, but her juices coating her inner thigh gave away her carnal delight. I’d watched her at the party. I’d seen the lust and desire in her eyes and her actions. Yes, this mafia princess was unlike any others I knew, and sadly in my profession, I knew a lot. She was special, she was by far the most beautiful, and she was also the most mysterious. So, fear in her eyes yes, but the hunger behind them pleaded for more.

  And when she tilted her hips toward me, silently urging my cock to possess her, I surrendered to the dictates of my body and flexed my hips forward, wanting to claim her in one swift motion.

  It was about me now. My cock couldn’t wait any longer.

  Me. My dick. Two powerful forces that couldn’t be denied any longer.

  But I couldn’t just slide into her tight little hole that was more than lubricated from arousal. Something was preventing me from claiming her as easily as I expected, although I couldn’t imagine what it could possibly be. I leaned into her further, determined to overcome whatever obstacle this was, and as I glanced up into her eyes, the stark realization of exactly what was stopping me came into my head all at once.

  This mafia princess was a virgin.

  I wanted to reel back. I wanted to disengage entirely, release her hands, and hold her to me. I wanted to gather her things and take her with me and keep her mine forever, no matter what the hardships that would cause, so that we could do this again in a safer place, where I could take my time and be sure she understood what was going to happen and make sure she wasn’t afraid of it. Nice and easy.

  Making love to her sweet pussy rather than fucking it.

  But I knew, even as the realization dawned on me, that none of those things were going to happen. And when she nodded her head ever so slightly in approval, I reached down and held her hips still while thrusting my own as hard as I could against her, driving myself up inside her partially, knowing I had torn her defenses a bit but not completely, before making a second, successful attempt that had me buried to the balls—seconds from losing myself completely within her.

  And I forced himself to watch her face the entire time. It was the least possible penance, considering what I was doing to her even though I knew it was her first time. Our eyes connected, and we never looked away.

  A joining, a magnetic pull, a locked-in stare.

  I should say I was sorry. I should leave her and beg her forgiveness as I did so.

  But what I did was fuck her—hard and mindlessly.

  Stole her virginity.

  Ravished her purity.

  And shamefully.

  I wasn’t the kind of man to worry much about what anyone else thought. I always tried to do what I thought was best in any given situation, even the worst ones. Guilt about sex was a particular waste as far as I was concerned, and that was an opinion I’d had since I could remember. But she was getting the short end of the stick here because of how degraded my life had become, and how angry I was about my own lack of control over my own life.

  I was deeply ashamed to realize just how far I had fallen. That my rage had shredded my control and my own code of honor in other areas of my life, like this one. And she happened to—quite literally—be in the wrong place at the wrong time, it seemed.

  I wondered if this mafia blueblood beneath me was truly as innocent as she seemed.

  Virgin yes… or at least she’d been a virgin.

  But how innocent was she?

  She was still part of the Costa family.

  But the ecstasy she twisted within me—however reluctantly she played—was something I couldn’t deny. Parts of me wanted it to last much longer than it did, but other parts wanted it to be mercifully short for her. In reality, it landed somewhere in the middle, with me bury
ing my face in the pillow next to her in order to stifle my bellow of such pure satisfaction that I felt weak and drained afterwards, so much so that I actually collapsed down on top of her, which was something I rarely did since I was so much bigger than the women I’d had beneath me.

  I was left, panting uncontrollably, largely incoherent and unable to move for a good long while, until I realized with a start where I was and practically leaped off her and to one side, but still mindful enough to retain a hold on her wrists regardless. The damage having been already done. I wasn’t of a mind to let her go any too soon.

  I stretched out next to her, tossing the condom, zipping my fly, which was the only part of my own clothing that had been somewhat rearranged, and enjoyed the sight of her lying there naked, a bright red sex flush still staining her chest and breasts.

  “I didn’t realize you were a virgin.”

  Tears leaked out of the corners of her eyes as she slowly nodded her head, her gaze skittering nervously away from mine, which sent a twinge through my chest that I had no interest at all in examining.

  I had turned into a monster and I sure as fuck didn’t need to dive into the deepest, and darkest depths of my soul to find out why.

  I used my hold on her wrists to pull her to my side and said, “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I know it must not have been easy losing your… well, it must not have been easy.” I stroked her hair, gently swiping the loose pieces that fell in front of her eyes to join the mass of luscious chestnut brown atop her head. Her wide brown eyes looked up into mine. She seemed to be examining my features, taking in every inch of my face. Her eyes sparkled from the leftover tears, but they ceased flowing. Her breathing evened and her body relaxed. What a true beauty she was.

  “What’s your name?” she asked. “Can you at least tell me that now?”

  It was a normal question to ask… humane, civil. It was the least I could do. I couldn’t just fuck her and not allow her to know a little about me.

  “I’m… Matthew. Matthew Price.” I released her right hand long enough to offer her my own, and when she took it, I turned hers over so that I could kiss the back of it. With a sheepish smile, I reclaimed her hands in mine, saying, “Kind of fucked up to introduce myself now, I suppose.”

  “I think everything about you and me is fucked up,” she said, though I didn’t see anger in her at all. She was simply stating a fact.

  “If I had known you were a virgin—"

  “What?” she interrupted. “You wouldn’t have fucked me? Or you wouldn’t have kidnapped me? Or would you have offered me roses and candlelight beforehand? Or—"

  “You didn’t act like a virgin in your bedroom,” I countered, feeling a bit more justified for not being aware. “I thought you were more… experienced.”

  Would I have changed my mind in fucking her had I known that she not only looked pure and angelic, but that she truly was? I would like to say I would have, but then again, the need to be inside her was overwhelmingly powerful.

  Taking her virginity complicated things which frankly pissed me off. It made it more personal. It would have been a hell of a lot easier had she just been the kinky daughter of my enemy who attended sex parties and not a girl saving herself for the right man.

  I was not Mr. Right.

  Her mouth opened and then shut. She looked away as her face flushed. I didn’t want to embarrass her or shame her. That wasn’t my intent.

  “And yes, you deserve roses and candlelight. I’m sorry that our circumstances stole that away from you.”

  9

  Aria

  Matthew Price.

  I finally knew his name. For some odd reason, I expected that as soon as I heard his name, I would recognize it somehow. At the very least, recognize the last name as belonging to a mafia family.

  But nothing.

  I couldn’t remember my father mentioning him once or having heard his name brought up in passing.

  He took a bite of cheese and then placed a piece in my mouth.

  Although I detested being treated like a child, or weak… or however you would classify this situation of being hand-fed, I swallowed my pride and did exactly as I was told. Although I would never admit it out loud, I had very little choice, and I didn’t have any more energy to continue to fight the man. He was the one with the gun, and I couldn’t forget that this man was on the run from my father. My father would do whatever it took to get me back.

  Not out of love but out of pride. I was pretty sure that everyone at the party was aware by now that I had been kidnapped. So, my father would have to save face more than anything else. Matthew Price had no idea just how suicidal his actions of stealing me were.

  Dead man walking.

  And I felt sorry for him. I didn’t want him dead. Far from it.

  He’d taken my virginity, punished me, humiliated me, shamed me, kidnapped me, and gotten me shot at, all in the space of a few hours. In spite of all of that, I was insatiably curious about him and lusted after him like no other man I had ever met.

  I was beginning to learn that there was a very fine line between hate and lust.

  Fear and desire.

  Captive and welcomed.

  Matthew went from domineering to loving, then back to domineering quicker than I could wrap my mind around it. The contrast had my head spinning. But what was even more confusing was the contrast in my body. My ass burned like Hades, but my sex begged for more. The need for Matthew’s dominance and the hunger for his touch confused me. Even though I wanted the spanking to end, there was a part of me that wanted it to continue… even harder. Being forced to spread my legs wide and have him claim me only brought on the animalistic desires locked away inside. He had set my body ablaze with forbidden fantasies.

  I had finally lost my virginity and though this wasn’t exactly how I pictured it happening, I had never felt such intense and amazing feelings before. It was painful but in the most delicious of ways. I would be lying if I said I didn’t feel alive and free from the constraints of my life by finally shedding the last of my protected youth.

  Ironic since I was anything but free in my current situation.

  Matthew released a heavy sigh. “I’m sorry.”

  I positioned my body so I could stare up at him. I grimaced when my bottom scraped against the bed. “Sorry for what?” I asked, not sure how to read this man. Was he sorry for kidnapping me? Pushing me past barriers of right and wrong? Sorry for forcing my body to submit even though my mind countered by demanding answers for why and how? Was he sorry for turning my entire life upside down and introducing chaos into every waking moment?

  “I’m sorry if you feel like a captive,” he said as he fed me the last bite of the meat. “I’m not an easy man. But believe me when I say that I am a good man… or at least I was. Times of late have blurred the lines for me. I may never be that good man again. But I guess it’s important to me that you know there was a time I was a good man.”

  I sighed loudly and decided to let down my wall slightly. I had just had sex with the man after all. “To be honest, I do feel like a captive. But not just by you. I have felt that way my entire life. My father has always kept me locked up in a gilded cage. Actually, jumping off that roof with you was the first time I felt true freedom. It was by far the stupidest thing I have ever done, and yet I don’t regret a thing. There’s been times I could have run. Tried to escape. From both you and my father.” I took a deep breath and shifted position again so I could stare into his concerned eyes better. “But I made a choice to stay. So yes, I’m a captive. But what my exact binds are, I’m not sure,” I said barely above a whisper. Our lips were so close that I almost wanted to lean forward and kiss him… almost. But the idea of what that kiss would mean, what it would do—terrified me.

  Matthew stared at me with a look of confusion on his face but luckily didn’t ask for clarification. “So,” he said, breaking the spell, “what was it like growing up the daughter of Vittorio Costa?”

  “Don’t
act like you don’t know,” I said. “You clearly know my father, and you wouldn’t have come and kidnapped me from my house without knowing all there is about me.” Although I hadn’t intended to do it, I found myself turning the question back at him. “Did you once work for my father? Or a rival family? I can’t tell if you have mafia in your blood.”

  Like me, Matthew seemed to have his own reasons for being vague about who he was. We were each considering our answers to each other very carefully before giving them, weighing just how much truth we wanted to reveal. “Yes, I have connections with the mafia. With the underground in general. But it’s not in my blood.”

  “Did you work for my father?”

  “I don’t work for anyone,” he answered readily enough, getting up to stoke the fire, then settling back down beside me until he reached over and turned me to look at him, the better to see my face. “How much do you know about your father’s business dealings? The people who work for him?”

  I thought for a moment and decided there was no reason not to tell him the truth. “Very little.”

  “You’ve never been part of the business? Never curious?”

  I chuckled, realizing it was the first time since this whole nightmare started. “No. My father treated me like a little china doll. Fragile. Breakable. Weak maybe? I don’t know. My mother died when I was young, so I was all he had left. If he could have, he would have locked me away in a tower somewhere like Rapunzel.”

  He frowned down at me, clearly not liking the answer.

  “I guess you could say I’m the classic mafia princess. Spoiled little rich girl.” I hadn’t thought much about it and shrugged before saying, “But you already knew this, so why ask me?”

  “I don’t think you’re fragile. Or broken. And I most certainly don’t think you are weak.” Matthew reached up to stroke my hair away from my face. “I think you were dealt some shitty cards being born to that man.”