Lukas

by Josephine Jade

  This time, working the plug into her ass while everyone watched had been a joy. Oh, she’d cried, just like last time, but there had been no heartbreak in the sound. Just good old fashioned sexual frustration, wanting to come so bad but being denied.

  He’d spanked her twice as hard as he had last time while she held herself in the dreaded diaper position, but she’d taken it with no problem.

  And now, his cock sliding slowly in and out of her, he knew by the way her sweaty hair was sticking to her face and how hard her hands were grasping her sprawled knees up near her shoulders, that her need to come was about to overwhelm her. She was trying so hard not to, just to please him.

  And she did. Oh, how she did. Pleased him more than he would’ve ever thought possible. And he looked forward to pleasing her back—in their own special painful way—for the rest of their lives.

  Reina was burning up. Heat was rolling in waves through her body, drowning her in passion. Everywhere Lukas’s body touched hers singed her.

  Considering the last time she’d been in this same place, in this same position, she’d been encased in ice, the fire was a welcome change.

  She hadn’t wanted to step foot in the club, but he’d forced her. Not forced exactly, because she knew she always had a choice, but had told her in that Dom voice that it was time. She hadn’t hesitated.

  Because she trusted Lukas.

  He’d pushed her boundaries from the moment she walked into the club all those weeks ago, was again tonight, and would be pushing them for the rest of her life.

  And now he was pushing her right to the very edge of insanity.

  “God, princess, seeing you holding on by a thread in front of all these people is so sexy.”

  “Please, Lukas, please. I have to come. Pleaaaaasee.”

  She was sprawled open, every secret of her body visible to the crowd surrounding them.

  And she reveled in it.

  She refused the play the dirty shame game with herself ever again. This was what she wanted. She liked pain. She liked being displayed. She liked being commanded by Lukas, used in any way he saw fit.

  Nobody defined her sexuality but herself, and she damn well defied anyone to ever call her the Ice Queen again, especially right now when she was all but giving off steam.

  He reached up to tug on the clamps he’d put on her nipples, causing her to wail. Lukas knew what she wanted. What she needed. And gave it to her over and over.

  There were a lot of toys and moves and devices that could make sex hot, positions that could scorch the mind before the fun even really got started, but love was what hurled kinky fuckery off the charts.

  “Come for me now, princess. Loud and hard.” He brought his thumb down firmly on her clit, and she couldn’t stop combustion in her body. As her pussy spasmed around his cock in orgasm, he grabbed her ankles, pulling her legs wider, pounding into her rapidly.

  She screamed his name so hard no doubt everyone—no matter what they were doing or having done to them—heard her. Her name flew off his lips in a shout when he came a few thrusts afterwards.

  He brought her legs down to wrap around his hips and lowered his torso so he could plant a kiss on her lips.

  “I love you,” she whispered.

  “Good, because there’s no way in hell I’m living without you. I plan to tie you to me every way I know how. Not just moving in with me. Marriage. Forever. The whole thing.”

  She grinned. “Including purple lingerie?”

  “Including whatever both of us want. As long as we want it together. And especially if it involves me tying you spread eagle to the bed and having my wicked way with you as often as possible.”

  Seriously, what more could a woman want?

  “Under those conditions? I’m in. Forever.”

  THE END

  If you enjoyed this story, please consider leaving a review.

  Don’t miss the other Rinaldi brothers: ROMAN and DOMINIC. Both their books are available now. Sneak peaks on the next page!

  Sign up for Josie’s newsletter to receive information about new releases and more

  Sneak Peek: ROMAN

  1

  Roman

  ABOUT THIS BOOK:

  Her brother stole from my family. For members of La Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian Mob here in The Big Easy, that’s a death sentence.

  It’s not just about the money.

  It’s about the respect.

  The deal is practically done, when his sister stumbles into my office, pleading for her brother’s life. Sarah. Sweet, trembling, innocent Sarah. A damned kindergarten teacher.

  She promises to pay her brother’s debt. How? With her savings and her teacher’s pension. I find her loyalty touching. But her meager savings aren’t nearly enough. And now, there’s something I want more than money, more than revenge…

  I want Sarah. She’ll be my plaything for one month, catering to my whims. All of them. When I make the offer –with very clear detail of how she will pay the debt– she’s frightened, but heat sparks in her beautiful eyes.

  She wants it too.

  I will debase her. And she will beg me for it.

  Chapter 1

  This was not going to end well.

  Sarah struggled to hide her creeping anxiety as she stared up at the human wall in front of her. She’d made it past the gate of Roman Rinaldi’s house, and figured this was going to be easier than she thought. But evidently that had just been the first step.

  The security guard at the front door had biceps bigger than Sarah’s thigh. He stared at her through reflective sunglasses. Or at least she assumed he was looking at her. She really couldn’t tell.

  “I need to see Roman Rinaldi.”

  The guy didn’t move except to cross those massive arms over his chest. “Nobody sees Mr. Rinaldi without an appointment.”

  She took a deep breath, reminding herself what was at stake, and smoothed a hand down her stomach in an attempt to calm the five billion butterflies in residence there. “I’m aware I don’t have an appointment, but I have an invitation of sorts.”

  He smirked at her. “Yeah? Let’s see it then.”

  She licked her lips. “It’s more of a referral, I guess you could say.”

  He cocked his head slightly, looking her over. Sarah imagined she did not look at all like the women who normally came to Roman Rinaldi’s door. “Yeah, really? Who referred you?”

  “Robbie Hastings. My name is Sarah. I’m his sister.”

  His expression lost some of its sneer, and he reached for his cell phone, blindly stabbing a number. “Boss, I’ve got Robbie Hastings’ sister at the front door. She’s requesting a meeting with you.”

  After a moment’s conversation, the guard moved to the side to allow her access to the door. “Go on in and straight to the sitting room on the left. Mr. Rinaldi will find you.”

  Sitting room. Sounded innocent enough. She inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  He laughed harshly. “I doubt you’ll be thanking me for long.” He moved behind her so she had no choice but to walk through the door.

  Even if he hadn’t blocked her way, leaving wasn’t really an option. Licking her dry lips, she walked inside the large house. As her eyes adjusted to the dimmer light, she found it wasn’t what she’d expected from the house of a Cosa Nostra mobster.

  Of course, she wasn’t exactly sure what she was expecting in a mobster’s house. Black walls and scarlet carpets? Artwork of people on their knees begging for their life? Sculptures of people getting their kneecaps knocked out with a baseball bat?

  Instead she found it tastefully furnished with discreet illumination from an occasional overhead light. The artwork in the hallway seemed to consist mostly of local landscapes and the occasional oil representation of Bourbon Street.

  People were walking around, going in and out of rooms. Some armed men, but others had papers in their hands or were talking on the phone. It looked just like many of the old houses on the outskirts of New Orl
eans that had been transformed to accommodate offices on the main floor. Perfectly reasonable. Safe.

  Sarah began studying the pictures again to forget about why she was really here.

  “You were supposed to go straight to the sitting room,” a rich and smoky voice said behind her, sending chills down her spine.

  “I’m sorry. I stopped to admire the place for a moment.”

  She knew the man behind her was Roman Rinaldi. She didn’t want to turn and face him. Knew that nothing would ever be the same once she did.

  But she didn’t have any choice. So she turned, praying he’d be old, ugly, or at least manageable.

  He was none of those things. The man in front of her was young, handsome, vibrant. He was probably around thirty, with thick black hair, whiskey-colored eyes, and scratchy stubble on his cheeks her fingers somehow itched to touch.

  Sexy. Dangerous. It couldn’t be any more obvious if he dragged around a neon sign announcing it. He was very definitely not manageable.

  Rinaldi was clearly appraising her with equal interest, taking in her light-brown hair and blue eyes, her skin quite fair compared to his olive complexion. Maybe she should have changed out of her work slacks and button-down shirt. She was painfully and self-consciously aware of the splotch of yellow paint at the hem from little Mark Gardner’s wild brush this afternoon.

  She licked her lips again, but abruptly stopped when she saw his gaze following the path of her tongue. Licking her lips was a nervous habit, and certainly nothing she’d ever cultivated to drive men wild. Not that she was the drive-men-wild type. Especially not this man, not with such a harmless gesture. Sarah had always been more girl-next-door, less sexpot.

  Her proposition she was about to make to this man was ridiculous, futile, but what choice did she have? She couldn’t sit back and do nothing.

  “And does my home meet your approval?” That voice again. Those eyes. Her nipples actually beaded in reaction. What in the world was happening to her?

  “It wasn’t what I expected. It’s very tasteful.”

  His brow arched and Sarah realized what she’d said. Oh God.

  “I mean… I didn’t mean, I mean—”

  He didn’t let her finish. “Can I get you a drink?”

  She nodded, not caring that it wasn’t even five o’clock yet. She could use some liquid courage and anything to ease her dry throat. He put a hand on the small of her back and led her into the sitting room she was supposed to have gone to in the first place. He poured himself some sort of amber liquid out of a decanter then slipped a bottle of white wine out of a small fridge and poured her a glass.

  “Let’s go into my conference room where we won’t be disturbed,” he said as he handed her the wine, his gaze falling once again to her lips.

  Her stomach clenched with a mix of apprehension and the slightest tinge of excitement. At least he found her attractive. The thought both terrified and encouraged her.

  Hand at her back again, he led her out into the entryway. He turned into a doorway on the left, escorting her inside before closing the door. The ominous click of the lock echoed through the room making her flinch. A large table took up most of the space, but there was also a smaller side sitting area made up of a love seat and wing chairs.

  He took her glass and placed both of them on the conference table, then stepped right up against her where she stood just inside the door.

  “Mr. Rinaldi—” Sarah barely squeaked out his name before he put his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs resting on either side of her neck. One trailed across her chest as he walked behind her, keeping himself pressed very close against her.

  “Shhh,” he whispered in her ear, voice husky.

  She swallowed, nearly gulped, as his hands ran all the way down her arms to her wrists, holding them out beside her, then all the way back up underneath. Almost like he was trying to tickle her, but the deadly air surrounding them said otherwise.

  “Keep your arms out,” he said. She did and felt him slide his hands down the side of her ribs before edging over her waist and hips.

  He was frisking her.

  “Mr. Rinaldi, I can assure you I do not—”

  His hands dropped from her side and he came to stand in front of her, whiskey eyes narrowed. He put a finger against her lips and pressed just hard enough to let her know that he meant business. “No talking.”

  She nodded.

  He took several steps forward, forcing her back until she rested against the wall. His hands moved over her chest, his eyes not leaving hers as his fingers closed over her breasts and his thumbs ran down the valley in between them. Her breath hitched.

  She felt herself jerk when his fingers moved down her stomach to skim under her button-down shirt and began to work their way back up against her skin. When she felt his fingers move the lace of her bra to the side, exposing her nipples to his fingers she let out a squeak.

  “Mr. Rinaldi, I—”

  She felt a sharp sting against one of her nipples from the pinch of his fingers, before she found herself turned and pressed face-first against the wall.

  “If you say one more word before I give you permission, I will have one of my men strip you naked and thoroughly search every inch of your body for any possible device, while I watch and enjoy my drink. Do you understand?”

  Sarah nodded her cheek against the wall.

  “Your other option is to leave, right now. Would you rather do that?”

  She shook her head. No, she didn’t want to leave. If she left now she would’ve defeated her entire purpose for coming here.

  “Then I’ll assume I don’t have to ask you again to be quiet.”

  Heat flooded her—part embarrassment, part excitement—as his fingers returned to her breasts. He searched them more efficiently this time, his palms replacing the lace of bra he’d pushed aside. Her nipples were hard nubs by the time his hands left them.

  She felt him crouch down at her feet and work both hands up one leg from ankle to thigh, his hands easily encircling her leg, then the other. She gasped as she felt both his hands slide up the inside of the backs of her thighs before his fingers grasped her buttocks and slid his thumbs along the crevice between them.

  Her nipples tightened even further and she couldn’t stop her breathing from accelerating, her cheek still pressed against the wall. Her only saving grace was the knowledge that he wasn’t unaffected either. His breathing had become harsher. She felt his hands search her backside again, sliding roughly from her lower back all the way back down through the crack of her ass, his fingers pressing hard against her.

  Then hands slid to her hips and he pulled the area he’d just searched so thoroughly up against him to grind against his front.

  He definitely wasn’t unaffected.

  Keeping one hand on her hip, she felt the other slide to the button of her khaki pants, undoing the button then the zipper. She gasped as his fingers slid over her lower belly, then felt them move to the skin of one inner thigh, then the other. She thought he was done when his hand left her thighs—obviously having proven that she had nothing hidden down there—and let out the smallest sigh of release.

  Then felt his hand slide inside her panties.

  “No stranger gets near me or my brothers without being searched,” he whispered in her ear. “Thoroughly.” She gasped out loud as his fingers cupped her sex once, before sliding all the way to her back hole. Heat pooled even as she stiffened.

  She felt him grind into her again from behind as his fingers cupping her sex kept her in place, his thumb running over her clit. Felt his harsh breath in her ear.

  God, whatever he wanted, right now she would give it to him. Her mind was totally devoid of reason. All she could do was feel.

  And then a moment later he was gone. His fingers gone from inside her pussy, his body gone from behind her.

  Without his hands holding her she collapsed against the wall. She sucked in deep breaths, trying to get her raging body under control. She gla
nced over her shoulder to find him calmly walking to his drink and taking a sip.

  He held it up in a mocking salute when he saw her looking at him. Bastard.

  She zipped and buttoned her pants and turned around to face him.

  “Now you can talk,” he said. “I just had to make sure you didn’t have a weapon or weren’t wearing a wire.”

  Sarah wished to God she could walk over and slap him and walk out of this place and never see his smug face again. But she couldn’t.

  She was about to offer to trade her body for her brother’s life.

  Keep reading ROMAN - available now!

  Sneak Peek: DOMINIC

  1

  Dominic

  ABOUT THIS BOOK:

  There are people who should never set foot in New Orleans ever again.

  Cassandra Clemens, part of a family of thieves and con artists, is very definitely one of those people.

  She crossed me, an underboss of La Cosa Nostra, the Sicilian Mob, seven years ago. Fooled me into thinking our relationship was real. That the feelings between us, the off-the-charts chemistry was authentic.

  And then after eight months she left. Without a word. Without a goodbye. Without ever letting me know her real name.

  So when I find out her family has given Cassandra to a sadistic Russian mobster to pay a debt, I know I should just leave her to her fate. But he’s chased and caught her here, in my city.

  So I’ll save the woman I’ve never been able to get out of my mind from certain death. Even if it means revealing the one secret I’ve never told anyone, the one factor that can offset a debt like this.

  Cassandra is my wife.

  Time to come home, little wifey. You’ve got a debt to pay. And I’ve had seven years to think of all the ways to make you pay it with that delectable body of yours.

  DOMINIC

  Chapter 1

  Cassandra spotted the two men before she got to the rundown hotel she’d been staying at for the past week. Her family had taught her how to spot a tail not long after she started school.

  After all, when your family was made up of con artists and thieves you tended to have plenty of people following you. Using a grade-school aged girl as a lookout worked well in a lot of cases. Nobody was paying attention to a kid with a lollipop in her mouth and book in her hand.