Caught and Caged: A Dark Mafia Romance

by Vonna Harper

  Not sure she could keep from throwing up, she sank to the floor, bent her knees, and wrapped her arms around her legs.

  “This is sick. He’s a sick man.”

  “He has to be stopped.”

  “How?” She spoke so quietly she barely heard herself.

  “By getting him to admit to ordering my brother’s murder.”

  “What about this—this party? If the cops showed up and the women admitted they were there against their will—”

  “Do you really think they would? Would you?”

  Maybe if she was the only one she had to consider, but what about her mother? The depths Megara’s husband was willing to go throwing his weight around might destroy her.

  “What about Korbin?”

  “He needs to be kept out of this.”

  “Why?”

  “Reasons upon reasons. Mostly because taking down your stepfather won’t destroy the mafia. Korbin is in this for the long run.”

  Confused, she made herself study Joe. What was it about this moment that reminded her of being trapped in a hospital bed?

  “We have to keep Korbin separate from what takes place Friday night.”

  “We?”

  “Law enforcement. The good guys. Not judges who can be bought or slimy defense attorneys. Look, Korbin will be there. It’s part of his cover. His game, I guess.” Joe stood. “It isn’t a game for the two of us. It can’t be.”

  “What do you want me to do?” How could she ask such a question?

  “By being what Ethan tells you to. The choker isn’t a symbol. It’s the real thing. Proof of your need for helplessness.”

  Another wave of sickness clenched her stomach. The cage was closing in on her, and she had no way out. Maybe Joe knew how she felt. Otherwise, wouldn’t he unlock the metal door?

  No. Of course not.

  He needed her.

  “I’m not going to do it. I don’t give a damn what you’re thinking, I won’t help you.”

  “Yes, you will.”

  “No,” she snapped. “I’m not like that. I need to be free. I need—”

  “This isn’t about you. It’s about making damn sure men like Ethan Crowl pay for murdering innocent people.”

  Propelled by emotion, she forced her legs under her and shook the cell door. “I’m not the one to do it. Let me out of here, damn it!”

  “No. I’m sorry, but—no.”

  Silent in a way she’d grown accustomed to, Joe unlocked the cage door and entered it. She didn’t resist as he grabbed her wrists and hauled her into the larger space with him.

  “Hands,” he said at length.

  Her eyes downcast, she did as he commanded. He let her stand there for several seconds with her heartbeat in overtime then pulled her arms behind her and fastened on handcuffs. The metal stroked her flesh. She didn’t test to see if he’d secured her.

  “What is this about?” she asked to keep her thoughts from breaking loose. None of her fantasies about being restrained had come close to what she was experiencing. Her entire being was under his control—as it should be.

  “Getting ready.”

  For what?

  “No questions?” he asked as he ran his fingers down her spine.

  A shudder nearly strong enough to bring her to her knees came between her and her ability to think. She nearly begged him to continue doing what he just had been.

  “No,” she managed. “I guess not.”

  “It’s better this way.”

  Apparently satisfied with his response, he pulled her over to his chair. She watched with her legs shaking as he sat. He patted his lap.

  Finding strength from some hidden place, she draped herself over him. His shirt was tangled around her waist and her head was down. Waiting.

  Needing. Maybe reading her mind, he massaged her ass, stroking and warming. Despite her admittedly weak command to ignore the erotic sensation, she kept losing herself in it.

  Joe was going to spank her, but until his palm collided with her buttocks, she’d immerse herself in pleasure. Find respite from dread. Her mons was pressed against the tops of his thighs, heat blending with heat.

  “I’m assuming you’ve looked into BDSM behavior,” he said, “but what Ethan and his fellow assholes are planning is deeper, darker. They aren’t into women who enjoy being submissive. They’re looking for the real deal. Giving the women no choice but to endure.”

  “By keeping them locked up like you’re doing me?” Talking was marginally easier now that she didn’t have to look at him.

  “That calls for kidnapping, slavery, openly and dangerously breaking the law. Blackmail works better. So does intimidation. Threats.”

  Ethan intended to use threats to get what he wanted from her. Much as she hated having to admit it, Ethan held the upper hand when it came to how he dealt with her. Joe could keep her far from her stepfather, but if he did, he might never be able to avenge his brother’s violent death.

  Not my problem. Not my war.

  She hadn’t come up with a way out of what was going to happen Friday night, but believed only one avenue stood a chance of working. The moment the notion of running entered her mind, she’d clung to it. Had nearly smiled.

  Not only could she escape Ethan’s clutches, she’d prove to Joe Risinger that he didn’t own her. She’d thumb her nose at him and leave him to deal with his agenda even if it meant she’d have to spend years in hiding. Assume a new identity. Move to Mexico or Canada. Maybe Iceland.

  Korbin might help. It was her only shot.

  “I know I’m asking for a lot out of you.” Joe continued to pat her ass. “But I won’t apologize.”

  Hoping he hadn’t caught on that she was fixated on putting a plan together, she forced herself to relax.

  “I’ll be attending as Korbin’s guest,” he continued. “You’ll be with me as my possession. If you try to get anyone to help you, I’ll say you’re playing a role. Doing what I trained you to do.”

  “The hell—”

  “You think not? All I have to do is remind them of how you flaunted your collar like it was some kind of statement.”

  “I’ll insist that wasn’t the real me, beg them to call the cops.”

  “The last thing anyone there wants is law enforcement showing up. They won’t listen to rants and denial.”

  He reached under her and slid his fingers over her pussy lips then spread the slickness he’d collected over her bottom hole.

  “This doesn’t feel like objection,” he observed. “More like anticipation.”

  “No. You’re—”

  “Enough.”

  Secretly relieved for an excuse not to say more, she focused on what he was doing as he continued to transfer her juices from her pussy to what a plug had recently filled. No matter how many times she tried to remind herself that she wanted to break free of this mess, shameful pleasure surrounded her. This wasn’t a dream.

  “These are your marching orders. What I expect.” His hand descended, barely reached her. “It isn’t much. A little acting on your part.” He swatted her left cheek a second time. “Working the conversation in a particular direction.” He hit her again. This contact carried more power, compelling her to try to slide out of reach.

  “Fuck you,” she hissed.

  “Is that what you want?” He struck again.

  “No, damn it.”

  “Are you sure?” He punctuated his question with another blow, sharper than before.

  “Fuck—damn you.”

  She waited for him to throw her words at her. Instead, he began a measured assault on her defenseless body. Her ass was tender from earlier attacks. She couldn’t make herself relax. Instead she squirmed and bucked, grinding against him when that had to be the last thing she wanted.

  She couldn’t help it.

  He was spanking her, not punishing so much as insisting on her total attention. The strikes hurt, all right, a lot. And they kept coming, relentless attacks on her sanity. Her mind was
somewhere in there, at least remnants were, but conscious thought didn’t stand a chance. There was only the battering of her flesh punctuated by her rhythmic moans. Heat. Heat everywhere. Keeping arousal at a fever pitch.

  No way. No way. Her body, damn it. Hers! Not his to command.

  Except it was.

  He pressed against the back of her neck and patted her arms almost gently. As she gasped and fought not to cry, he squeezed her fingers.

  Then he was at it again, his rough palms connecting with her buttocks and the backs of her thighs, marching up and down like this was part of some well-ordered plan. Alternating between harsh blows and barely noticeable taps. Flinging her between pain and pleasure.

  “I can’t—I can’t—oh damn I—please.”

  “Please what? Stop?”

  Yes. No.

  Her eyes and nose leaked and sweat plastered her hair to her scalp.

  She was there. Lost in a sensual space carnal need had created. No way out even if she’d wanted, which she didn’t.

  Her ass was numb and on fire, being attacked and rewarded.

  “Friday night.” He emphasized each word with a sharp swat. “A party for rich, powerful men and women who have no say in their being there.”

  He rested his splayed hands on her throbbing flesh. She felt the contact everywhere, needed what she shouldn’t.

  “Think about that. About how what you do might save a handful of women from ever being forced into another situation like the one that’s coming up.”

  “Me?” Hoping to keep more tears from escaping, she squeezed her eyes tight shut. Oh god, she hurt.

  But not just pain. The other thing, that powerful, beautiful thing.

  “Think about what I’ve been telling you. Ethan has to be shut down. Thrown behind bars. Tried and convicted.”

  She had to speak. Otherwise, he’d start spanking her again.

  “You don’t care about his illegal activities,” she whispered. “This is your vendetta. Everything you do—it’s all because you want to punish him.”

  “I want justice.” His palm descended, connected.

  Crying out, she renewed her useless struggle to break free. He went back to commanding her attention until she once more lost her separateness. She was here for him. At his bidding. Because he needed to stop Ethan.

  No. Not that.

  Truth was he cared about one thing—making his brother’s killer pay.

  There was no pacing to what he was doing to her now, no beginning or end. Just sharp stinging punishment that started on her skin and burrowed deep until the sensations consumed her pussy.

  That was his goal, she decided as her self-control died. He believed he knew how to turn her into his chattel, his possession.

  He was right.

  Crying out, she arched her back and spread her legs. She was shaking, not from pain but because she needed…

  “Fuck you,” she hissed. “Fuck me.”

  “What did you say?”

  She couldn’t remember. Could only stay like she was, a bitch desperate to have Joe inside her.

  He freed her hands and eased her arms down so they were at her sides. When he ran his fingers over the insides of her thighs, she opened herself even more.

  After briefly massaging her shoulders, he slid what she thought was his forefinger along her spine and between her ass cheeks. He stopped at her dark channel, then eased into her. She held her breath in either anticipation or dread.

  “Not now.”

  When he started to withdraw, the puckered muscles contracted. He pushed into the hole he commanded before escaping so he could mark the space between ass and pussy with a fingernail.

  He was at her sex, her weeping sex. With him in absolute control, she had no choice but to acknowledge how wet she’d become. Her juices slickened her folds and trickled down her inner thighs, reaching his legs.

  Joe Risinger was intimately exploring her, learning everything that mattered about her. He could do anything he wanted to her, break her down or build her up. Control. Command.

  She wanted those things from him, damn it! Needed him in the most primal way.

  “Fuck me. Please, don’t leave me like—just fuck me.”

  “Yeah, I think I will.”

  She was processing what he’d said when he planted her on her feet and indicated he wanted her to step back. Standing where he’d commanded her to be, she licked her lips and wiped her nose on her shirt. She desperately wanted to masturbate, but he hadn’t given permission.

  Besides, she needed him to do it.

  His expression unreadable, he told her to shed her one piece of clothing. As she complied, he stripped out of his own clothes. Seeing him naked for the first time rocked her. He was even more perfect than she’d expected, all hard muscles and broad chest. Aroused. Oh hell, aroused. His huge, hard dark cock a promise and threat.

  She kept staring at him as if desperate to make sure she never forgot this moment. They might have nothing but need in common, but it was enough. Everything.

  Her hands pressed against her sweaty belly, she looked into his eyes. She wasn’t sure what was on his mind. He was turned on all right, but more was at play. The vulnerable part of her needed to believe he was unsure of himself, but in her heart of hearts she knew different. He’d come to San Diego for one reason. That hadn’t changed. She was both a means to an end and a complication, more than he’d wanted to consider but nothing he couldn’t handle.

  Was that right?

  “I won’t take you on the bed,” he announced, “because your ass isn’t up for it.”

  She’d nearly forgotten her battered rump, but he was right. Her mind swimming, she considered getting onto her knees and taking him in her mouth, but that would leave her unfulfilled.

  “Here.” He fastened his hands on her shoulders and guided her to the recliner.

  After moving her about a little, he directed her to bend over so a padded armrest was against her belly. She planted her forearms on the seat to support her upper body and let her head sag. What was it she’d recently likened herself to, a bitch in heat. An animal.

  She was.

  He took her. Hard and fast. With his hands digging into her sides while his cock pummeled her core. She rocked back and forth, making mewling sounds while drool slipped from between her slack lips. Her mind’s eye filled in what she couldn’t see.

  Joe Risinger was fucking her, his woman. Taking her where, when, and how it pleased him.

  Fuck me. Thrust. Pummel. Make me shiver and shake. Take me to the top and throw me off the ledge.

  She was there. At the peak. Too late to stop. Cursing and thanking him. Scared and thrilled.

  A mix of excitement and wonder pulled her into something she couldn’t wrap her mind around. Every nerve caught fire. She felt the impending climax from her toes to the top of her head. Most of the sensation encircled her pussy.

  It shouldn’t be this easy! She needed to retain something of her own, pride maybe.

  For a long, hard moment she fought to hold onto sanity, but wave upon wave crashed into what was left of her mind. Her control evaporated.

  It didn’t matter, damn it! She was a hungry woman in the grip of a potent man.

  “Let it come,” he said. “Enjoy.”

  I am. Oh shit I am.

  The wave she’d been riding crested, taking her with it. Eyes squeezed shut and nails digging into her palms, she cried. Gasped. Kept crying.

  “God damn!” He pushed hard. Shuddered.

  “Let it come,” she echoed him.

  They climaxed. Maybe she reached the pinnacle before he did, but it didn’t matter. Only the harsh sweet sensation that was release did.

  “Damn you,” she ground out while she could still speak.

  “No. Damn you.”

  A long time later, he pulled out of her and put her back on her feet. They stared at each other. What she’d regained in the way of sanity wanted to thank him for what she had no doubt was the most ex
plosive climax of her life, but she’d be in pieces if she did.

  So she studied him some more.

  And saw, for the first time, the tattoo on his upper right arm.

  The smiling face of a handsome young man with the word Nate written under the image.

  Tears falling, she traced the outline. He stood rigid and silent. Barely breathing. His features twisted and his eyes old.

  Thank you, she wanted to tell him, but his pain-driven expression kept her silent.

  Chapter 10

  “You know what it’s like,” Joe told Caleb on Thursday when they met at the bar they’d been to before. “Something unexpected pops up. Plans have to be altered on the fly.”

  Caleb stared at the nuts he’d brought over from the bar as if he had no idea what they were. “You’re talking about this new shit Ethan’s trying. I’ve heard rumors for months. Not sure why he suddenly decided to go from teasing to the real deal.”

  “Do you think his ego plays in?”

  “His ego is always a factor.” Caleb picked up a peanut then dropped it on his napkin before going back to his beer. “I used to try to put him in a box. It was easier thinking he’d do certain things in certain situations than admit he’s unpredictable. I’m no longer sure what motivates him.”

  “It sounds like that bothers you.”

  “It does. Particularly this time.”

  Joe had wanted to talk to the other cop before he took himself and Lainey into the lion’s den, but right now he wasn’t sure he could get Caleb to focus. Something was gnawing at the man he already liked despite their brief relationship.

  “What don’t you like about tomorrow night’s operation?” he asked. “I take it that’s what you’re talking about.”

  “What else could it be? On the surface, nailing Ethan’s ass because women are there against their will should be cut and dried, but I don’t know if we can get them to testify against someone they believe is beyond the law’s reach. He should have been tried and convicted years ago. I swear, charging him with ordering your brother’s murder would be easier.”