The Escape: An Irish Mafia Romance (Downing Family Book 1)

by Cassie Wild

  I gulped now, sucking in air as if starved for it. Maybe I was. My lungs seemed to be rather incapable of holding onto oxygen.

  “Do you want to submit to me, Daria?” he asked.

  There was a light, almost teasing note to his voice and I knew I could tell him no and he’d never say anything about it.

  But what I heard myself say was … “Yes.”

  I was on my knees, naked in front of him.

  He’d put a thin, padded pillow on the floor and told me to kneel.

  “If you want to stop, let me know.” He slowly stripped out of his suit, eyes hooded and locked on my face. “I’m going to give you a safe word. Do you know what that is?”

  I thought of the book Isabel had given me, but I couldn’t concentrate well enough to recall if they had discussed things like safe words.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted.

  “It’s a word you’ll use if you want to call things off, if I push you too far.”

  “Why can’t I just say no?”

  “Because there might be times when you say no and you really mean yes. We won’t do much tonight, but if we continue … eventually, I’ll push you hard. Make you lose control. You’ll beg to stop, beg me not to, sometimes within a few seconds of each other. Having a safe word clears up any possible confusion.”

  “Oh.” My head was spinning. I couldn’t blame it on the scotch, though. Before Brooks had led me up here, he’d made me drink two glasses of water, then he’d given me another half hour alone before returning to the room to ask if I was sure.

  I was stone-cold sober and my head was spinning from what we were talking about, what we were getting ready to do.

  “We’ll use the word ballet,” he told me. “I imagine you can remember it?”

  “Yes.” I licked my lips and tried not to stare at his hands as he reached for the zipper of his slacks.

  It was silly, maybe, to feel so anxious as he slowly freed his cock and revealed himself to me.

  He was thick, already hard, a thin, clear bead of fluid at the slit in the head of his cock.

  My mouth watered.

  “You want to taste me, don’t you?” he asked, smearing his thumb across the head of his dick until he was shiny with it.

  “Yes.” My face flushed. I couldn’t believe I was doing this.

  He reached over and traced his still damp thumb across my lower lip.

  Instinctively, I licked.

  His eyes darkened as he stared at me, fisting his hand around his cock and stroking up, then down. After a few more pumps, he moved closer and pushed his hand into my hair. He’d told me to brush it out and leave it hanging loose, so I’d done just that. Now, he fisted a hand in the heavy mass, twisting it around his fingers until he had control of my head.

  It was far more erotic than I would have ever dared imagine.

  “Suck on me, Daria. I want to feel your mouth on my dick.”

  I sucked in a hard breath, then leaned forward, pressing my lips to the head of his cock.

  “Open up,” he ordered. “Take me inside.”

  I did so, awkward with it, and following the urgings of his hand until I was swaying back and forth, working him with my mouth.

  “That’s good. You suck cock nicely, Daria.”

  I whimpered and tried to take him deeper. He pushed me past the levels I felt comfortable with though and I ended up gagging myself.

  “Take it slow,” he said, pulling me off his cock, stroking himself as I caught my breath. “Don’t take me so deep until you’re ready.”

  He pressed the head to my lips. “Take me inside again, Daria. Your mouth is sweet.”

  Mindlessly, I opened my mouth around him. This time, I followed his orders, taking him slow and learning my own limits.

  Soon, he was rocking against me, holding my head still as he thrust his cock back and forth between my lips. “Do you like me fucking your mouth like this, Daria?” he asked. “I sure as hell do.”

  I couldn’t answer, couldn’t even reach for him because he’d tied my hands behind my back.

  So I sucked on him harder and hoped he understood.

  He groaned and I felt a shudder wrack him.

  My nipples were now so tight they hurt and I squirmed and shifted in an effort to ease the ache between my thighs.

  I didn’t realize it at first, but I was rocking back and forth, my knees pressed together against the empty ache in my womb.

  Brooks chose that moment to stop and I whimpered, trying to follow him with my mouth.

  He didn’t let me, though, grasping my cheek and holding my face steady as he separated us.

  “Get up,” he ordered. He helped me, balancing me as I struggled to my feet without the use of my hands. He led me over to the bed and nudged me forward until I was bent over it, exposed to him.

  “I’ve fantasized about having you bent over in front of me, helpless, as I fuck you. That’s what I’m going to do … soon.”

  “Why not now?” I said, all but ready to beg him.

  “Because I’ve got something else I want to do. Did you notice this morning? I spanked your beautiful ass. You moaned and whimpered and came so hard when I did it. Do you remember?”

  I only had blurred, vague memories of it but I nodded.

  “I’m going to spank you again. If it’s too much, remember your safe word.”

  I didn’t have time to brace myself before he brought his hand down on my butt.

  I gasped.

  He hit me with a controlled amount of force. It hurt, but at the same time, I felt heat bloom inside me. I tightened my thighs in an effort to stem the ache, but that just seemed to intensify it.

  He spanked me again.

  Then again.

  Before he gave me another blow, he dipped his fingers into my pussy and sighed in appreciation. “You’re so wet, Daria,” he whispered, adding a second, then a third finger, stretching me.

  He pumped hard and fast, but the moment I started to lift up for each touch, he stopped.

  “You be still,” he chided. “You’ll get another spanking for that.”

  I didn’t even think to ask for what. I just held my breath and let it out on a ragged cry as he laid another blow on my stinging ass.

  I wiggled and strained as he continued and abruptly, he stopped, then stood behind me, bending over again, pressing his chest to my back. “You’re all but fucking the bed, you’re so turned on. Do you want my dick now, Daria?”

  I only whimpered, my ability to speak practically gone.

  “Answer me.” He slid a hand between us and I could only guess what he was doing. I guessed that he was stroking his cock just as he had earlier when I knelt in front of him.

  “Otherwise, I’m going to make myself come and you’ll be out of luck.”

  “I want your dick,” I said desperately.

  “Say please.” He nipped my shoulder.

  “Please, Brooks. Please, I want your dick.”

  He pressed the fat, hot length against the curve of my ass. “Tell me where, Daria. Where do you want me?”

  “Inside me.”

  “I’ve already been inside you.” He reached over and traced my lips.

  “Here.” Then he slid a hand down and tugged the cheeks of my butt apart. “I can be inside you here … but you’re probably not ready for that. Tell me where you want me, Daria before I decide to just jerk myself off and come all over your ass.”

  “Inside me,” I said again. “In my …” I gulped in air before I answered. “Inside my pussy. Please.”

  “Good girl.”

  But he didn’t enter me right away.

  He moved away in fact and I moaned, turning my face into the comforter and clenching my bound hands into fists.

  He was back just seconds later and I felt him press against me. He gripped the chain on the handcuffs as he tucked the head of his cock to my entrance, then slowly pushed inside.

  At the same time, he drew back on the chains, guiding me.

>   I groaned. At first, it was in relief, because he was filling me just as I’d begged him to do. Then it was in desperation because he pulled out all too soon, leaving me with just the head of his fat cock inside me, before slowly thrusting back inside.

  It was a taunting, fascinating rhythm he set for us and it had me wiggling on the bed, lifting myself to him as best as I could, then tightening around him before he could withdraw.

  Brooks let go of the chain on my cuffs and pushed a hand into my hair. He gathered it into a loose, messy tail and tugged, drawing me up with my spine arching. He kept on going, rocking back and forth inside me as he pulled on my hair.

  He used that grip to control my body. I was neither lying, nor standing, caught somewhere in between and impaled on his cock while his hand trapped my hair to control my head and upper body.

  Inside me, he seemed to swell even larger and I whimpered, all but sobbing now.

  He slowed his pace. “Beg me, Daria. If you want to come … beg me.”

  I didn’t even question him. “Please, Brooks … please, I need to come. I want to come so bad it hurts.”

  He muttered something. I didn’t even hear it, but it didn’t matter because now he caught my shoulders and all but yanked me farther onto his dick. He bent forward once more, letting me sag into the mattress, but he didn’t slow, slamming away, his pelvis slapping against my butt while his hands gripped my shoulders and held me steady for his possession.

  For him … he held me steady for his pleasure, for his possession, for him. It was a thought that was too erotic to even contemplate and I shoved it all aside as the pleasure built and roared inside me, threatening to consume me.

  Then it did. The orgasm opened up underneath me like some greedy beast and it sucked me, stealing away my heartbeat, my sight, even the sound of everything but my own ragged breathing.

  Twenty-Six

  Brooks

  Daria slept on next to me. I lay on my side with her body nestled into the curve of mine. I’d never enjoyed sleeping with women—just sleeping—but in that moment, I felt nothing but pure bliss.

  She had submitted so sweetly to me and just thinking about it made me want to wake her up and do it all over again. To teach her more. Maybe spread her out on the bed and tie her down before I got to work and learned even more about the sweet delights of her body.

  I might have even acted on the urge, but my phone started buzzing. I’d silenced it earlier, but left the vibration on and now it was pulsing in a manner that assured me somebody needed my attention.

  Slipping from the bed, I grabbed the phone and answered with a hushed, “Hello?” as I slid from the bedroom onto the balcony.

  “Brooks. You’ve got some explaining to do, son.”

  I grimaced at the hard, unhappy sound of my father’s voice. Shit. He’d heard. I’d hoped I could keep this quiet as I settled things between the Castellanos and Daria. I should have known better.

  Still, I didn’t immediately blurt anything out. “What do you mean, Dad?”

  “Don’t play dumb with me!” Seamus practically snarled. “I just got ambushed by Basilio, him asking me what my family was going to do to make things right with the situation.”

  “I’m handling it, Dad,” I said, keeping my voice calm. There was nothing else I could say.

  “Handling it how? You disappeared with a girl who insulted the Castellanos. You might as well have been the one to give the insult, running off the way you did.”

  “She didn’t insult anybody,” I replied but it was harder to stay calm this time. “She was tricked into one of the private rooms at the club, without being told what was expected of her. She’s a guest of the Castellanos family—she should have been safe. If anybody was insulted, it was her.”

  Seamus wasn’t having it, though. “Then she can argue the matter with the Castellanos. There was no reason to involve our family.”

  I set my jaw, staring off into the night. It was so dark here, away from the lights of any nearby city. Overhead, a billion stars seemed to twinkle and a soft breeze drifted in from the ocean.

  This was my sanctuary, the place I came when I wanted to be away from my family and all their entanglements. It had been purchased by a friend of mine, in his name, but I’d paid for it. Very few people knew about this little island. Even fewer knew it belonged to me.

  I was hoping my father was one of those who remained ignorant of the place. I was definitely hoping that the Castellanos didn’t know, especially now that it was obvious people knew that I’d helped Daria get away from the club.

  “You’re too quiet,” Seamus said, his voice guarded. “What’s going on in that head of yours, boy?”

  I didn’t twitch an eyelash at the term boy. My dad would probably still call me boy when I was sixty years old, assuming we both lived that long.

  But I didn’t like the direction this conversation was going.

  “Basilio wants the girl, Brooks,” Seamus said.

  “Fuck Basilio,” I said without thinking. “I’ll deal with this, Dad, okay?”

  “You see to it that you do,” he said, electing to ignore what I’d said about the new partnership between the two men. “Because if you don’t handle this, I’m going to. You don’t want that, Brooks.”

  He disconnected the phone and I resisted the urge to hurl mine to the stone path below just to watch it shatter.

  Instead, I slid back into the room and tugged open a drawer, finding a pair of loose cotton pajama bottoms. I donned them in the dark and slid my phone into my pocket in case my father decided to call back.

  The house was quiet as I let myself out.

  I found the path easily thanks to the soft landscape lights and headed off into the night, walking toward the beach.

  Waves lapped gently against the sand, a rhythmic sound that almost always managed to calm me.

  Tonight, it did nothing.

  I had no idea what I was going to do.

  I knew how these things worked. While it was a bunch of bullshit that Duardo had decided to treat a family guest the way he had, I knew enough to know they wouldn’t back down until they felt there’d been amends made for this so-called insult.

  If my sister had a guest come to visit the family and a rival family insulted her the way Duardo had insulted Daria, I could have handled it in a much different manner.

  But the Castellanos had a different code than we did.

  Daria’s innocence, her ignorance of what she’d been getting into didn’t matter to the Castellanos. Nothing mattered to them that wasn’t business.

  That was the answer. Make this a business matter and make it worth it to Duardo to let it go and he’d handle his father.

  That would get my father off my back.

  But what would satisfy Duardo was nothing that would come close to satisfying me. I wasn’t letting them hurt Daria. I wasn’t going to let them take this out on Daria.

  Loyalty to the family clashed with this crazed obsession I was developing for the woman I’d left sleeping in my bed.

  Somehow, I had to find a way to care for her, appease my own needs and still satisfy the family.

  And I was at a loss about how to do it.

  Twenty-Seven

  Daria

  I woke up alone.

  It was nearly one in the morning and I was wide-awake.

  Smoothing down the sheets next to me with my hand, I felt how cool they were and I knew that Brooks had left the bed some time ago.

  Restless, I slid from the bed and turned on the lights, squinting until my eyes adjusted.

  Once I could see, I made my way to the wardrobe where I’d found the clothes Brooks had bought for me.

  I pulled on a pair of loose joggers and a t-shirt, deciding to forgo a bra.

  While I was digging for underwear, I found my phone. I had no idea how it ended up in the drawer, unless Duncan had put it there, Duncan or whoever it was that had carried me to this room that first night.

  I checked the batter
y and grimaced when I saw how low it was.

  I’d done a lot of snooping in the house and knew I could find a charger that would fit in a drawer in the kitchen.

  Clutching the phone, I made my way through the house.

  It was dark and utterly quiet, save for the soft sound of the wind whispering through the trees.

  I found the kitchen easily enough, even in the dark. I had to turn on the light, though, to search for the drawer with the right charging cord.

  Once found, I discovered it was no typical junk drawer. Like everything else in the house, it was organized to a T. I found the cord in seconds and bumped the drawer closed with my hip.

  I took a seat at the island and plugged the cord into the outlet. Just my luck, the screen lit up but the bars were nonexistent. It didn’t matter, I guess, because it wasn’t like I was going to try and call anybody. Who would I call, after all? The only person who came to mind was Isabel and I had no idea what I’d even say to her.

  Hey, why didn’t you tell me your family was involved in the mob?

  Somehow it didn’t roll off the tongue.

  I sighed, my thoughts turning toward the Castellanos family. I’d known Isabel for a long time, ever since I moved to the US to start attending the school. She’d been the first friend I’d made and she was still the best one.

  And her family is connected to the mob.

  Rubbing my temple, I closed my eyes. My mind was a jumble of thoughts and I couldn’t untangle the mess of it.

  How could I not have known something like this?

  They’d all seemed so … normal.

  Granted, I had just met her brothers, but I’d met Basilio often when he traveled to New York City to watch Isabel and spend time at the school.

  Actually, it wasn’t just Isabel he came to see. I’d thought about it before but it seemed a little more obvious now that I was actually thinking about it. Basilio had something going on with Nadia. I thought about his wife, the nice woman I’d met at the wedding. Mirana was a wonderful woman, at least that was the impression I’d gotten.

  Of course, I’d also had the impression that Basilio was a nice guy.