Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance)

by Willow Winters

  “What do you have to say for yourself?” he asks with a heated stare.

  I’m fucking exhausted because a psycho took me from my home and said psycho happens to get up earlier than I do. Add that to the list of things that make you a prick.

  I clear my throat as softly as possible and decide to apologize. I can't risk getting in even more trouble right now. I can’t go back to the cell. I remember how nice he was last night, I just need to appeal to that side of him. “I’m sorry, Anthony. I didn’t realize.”

  “You’re supposed to be presentable for me.” His voice is stern.

  I keep my eyes on his as my breathing picks up. He's right, I should've known that. It’s not like I thought I could sleep in and lounge around all day.

  “I wasn’t sure when you’d be here,” I say as softly as my voice allows.

  “You should always be ready.” He walks to the nightstand and picks up the clock, holding it out for me to see. “But this should give you a pretty good fucking clue as to when I’ll be here.”

  A yawn creeps up on me and I really do try to hold it in. But I can't stop myself, and I literally let out a huge yawn as he's reprimanding me. I cover my mouth with my hand and shake my head. “I’m sorry, I didn’t--”

  “You didn’t what?” he asks with a hard edge. His eyes narrow as he sets the clock down with more grace and care than is needed. I can tell he’s trying to hold in his anger. A darkness I haven’t seen yet gathers around him. Fuck, this isn’t good.

  “I’m sorry, Anthony. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Fear heats my blood as I scoot backward on the bed. “I didn’t mean to yawn. It just slipped out, and I didn’t know about the time.”

  “You seem to have relaxed a little too much, kitten. Did you forget who you are?” he asks. His words send chills down my spine and strike fear into my heart.

  I don’t know how to respond; my mouth opens, but words don’t come out. I don’t know what he wants me to say. He puts his knee on the bed and reaches out, grabbing my ankle and dragging me across the bed. The nightgown travels up my body and I desperately try to keep it down. But I don’t struggle against his hold, and I don’t fight him. I let him drag me over to him.

  “Mine. That’s who you are. You. Are. Mine.” His anger wanes as I look back at him. He commands me in a calmer tone. “Say it.”

  I hold his gaze and answer quickly. “Yours. I’m yours.” His chest rises and falls with his steadying breath. My pussy clenches as I see how my words have tamed him somewhat. I love the power I have over him, but I’m not a fool, and this isn’t right. It’s wrong. What I feel for him, this entire situation--it’s all wrong.

  He’s still trying to calm himself down and I know I need to say something to make him less angry with me. “I will be pres--present--” I try to tell him I’ll be ready for him at all times. But I stumble over the words. Although he hasn't hit me, I’m scared to death he will. Or worse, that he’ll throw me back into the cell and leave me there.

  “Shh.” His hand cups my chin and he looks me in the eyes. “You will be presentable for me by 8 a.m. every morning. Unless that’s too early for you?” He cocks his head at me, daring me to disagree.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and nod my head. “Yes, Anthony.” He looks back at me like he’s waiting for more. But I don't know what he wants me to say.

  After a moment he asks, “Have you disobeyed me?”

  I shake my head no. My breathing becomes erratic as I wonder if I've defied him unintentionally. “I didn’t mean to. Not on purpose.”

  “I know you haven’t. But you also haven’t been a very good pet, have you?”

  “I’m sorry. I’ll be better.” I don’t want to go back to the cell. I can’t go back there. My heart begins to thump painfully in my chest as I imagine being imprisoned there again. I’ll be better for him. I know I can be better.

  “You need to try harder, or this will never work.” I search his eyes for sympathy or understanding, but I see nothing. He doesn't wait for me to speak as he continues.

  “Right now, for instance. You’re hesitating to answer me. You aren’t speaking to me. You aren’t ready.” I draw in a short breath at the no-nonsense list of shit I’ve done to displease him already. The worst part is that I really should know better. I’ve read dozens or more books about submissives and dominants. I know all about power exchanges--fuck, I’ve fantasized about it. And yet here I am. Failing at it. Failing at being a submissive pet like I’ve dreamt about.

  “I don’t like that,” he says quietly. Fear grips my heart as I register his words. I can do this. I can be better. I need to be better so he keeps me. At least until I can get the fuck out of here. “I’m going to punish you for it.”

  I start to shake my head; my body feels paralyzed. It was just one mistake. I can fix it. “Please don’t send me back--”

  “No, kitten,” he says as he strokes my cheek and looks me square in the eyes. I instantly close my eyes and hold my breath. “Not a punishment for disobeying me.” He gently pulls me by the hands into a seated position and pets my hair. “The kind of punishment that will push your limits and end with both of us being satisfied.” His anger completely vanishes as he gives me a small smirk and says, “You know the type of punishment I’m talking about.”

  Everything in my body relaxes as I nod back and reply, “Yes.” I know what he means, and the thought makes my blood race. I have to break his gaze as a blush comes over me and my core heats. What the fuck is wrong with me?

  A low chuckle rises in his chest.

  “Now that you’re here, kitten, it’s time to really start playing.” I look anywhere but his eyes and end up staring right at the erection in his pants. Oh, fuck, another wave of arousal hits me. I close my eyes and try to ignore it. This is just pretend. This is something I need to get through until I can escape.

  I feel the bed dip, and I know he’s sitting next to me. I slowly open my eyes as he speaks. “Time to be a good pet and take your punishment, kitten.” I want to ask him why he’s doing this. I want to ask him to just let me go. But a darker side of me wants to be punished. I want to feel the pain turn to pleasure, just like I’ve read about before. I want those scenes to come to life. I crawl on my knees and move to drape my body over his lap with my hips atop his thighs. I know that I have this coming. I have to be better next time. It’ll be easy. I’ve read so many god damned books so I should fucking ace this.

  I think about them as he slips my gown up to my waist. I’m not wearing any underwear because he simply didn’t provide me with any. My heart sputters in my chest as his hand caresses one of my ass cheeks and then the other. My body is stiff and I keep waiting for the smack every time I feel his hand lift up, but he just continues to massage my ass, drawing out my punishment. I turn my head to the side and just breathe. My shoulders ease lower and I close my eyes, enjoying his touch.

  He positions me across his lap and places one of his legs over mine. My eyes open, and I know it’s coming. A hand gentles on my ass and then lifts before landing hard with a loud smack!

  “Fuck!” I yell out, and resist trying to move away. My eyes scrunch as another hard, stinging smack lands on my right cheek and then again on my left. I ball my hands into fists and close my eyes tightly as the stinging makes my eyes water. My throat closes, and I can’t help that I flinch at the next smack. Tears leak from my eyes. Fuck, it hurts. Fucking hell. I cover my face with my hands as another hard smack lands on my ass and forces a scream from me.

  I prepare for another blow, but it doesn’t come. He rubs my tender ass and whispers, “You’re close, kitten. So close.” My ass feels so fucking hot and so damn sore that even the faintest soothing touch stings. He lifts his hand and brings it down over the crack of my ass. His fingertips barely touch my pussy. I try to arch my back as a warmth stirs in my belly. I shake my head as he continues my spanking. Soon the stinging pain turns into a numbing sensation, and the numbness is replaced by something else. Something hot and
delightful that makes my core clench.

  I groan into the sheets as his hand slaps my tender skin repeatedly. He pauses to rub my ass, and I find myself moving against him.

  “Stay still, kitten,” he says as a warning. His fingers dip between the folds of my pussy.

  “Yes, Anthony.” The words fall from my lips with lust. He raises his hand, and another hard spank greets my ass. “Uhh!” I scream out as my body bows. I’ve never felt this before, this heated need for more. I writhe under him, but then remember his command.

  Still.

  I force myself to remain motionless as more blows rain down on my ass. Right, left, center. Over and over again. Each time he hits the center, his fingers sink lower.

  The pain morphs into something entirely different and I feel myself rise higher and higher. My head thrashes as I try to resist, but my body betrays me. I’m fucking soaking wet for him. After a few more hard swats, he stops and leans down, planting a kiss on my left ass cheek.

  “What do you say, kitten?” he asks as his hands gently caress my ass.

  I have no fucking clue what he’s talking about. My heart beats faster with the desire of wanting to answer him correctly. And then it hits me.

  “Thank you for my punishment,” I say just above a murmur.

  His fingers travel down my ass and over my puckered hole. My lungs stop as his fingertips hover there. They prod slightly, but only for a moment. Then they travel lower and dig into my heat. The feeling is so unexpected, and so shockingly needed.

  I grind on his hand as his fingers pump in and out of me. I moan into the sheets shamelessly. He pulls them out, only to move the moisture to my clit and circle it with no mercy. My back stiffens and my body tingles as every part of me is on edge. And then he pinches my hardened nub and I shatter. I fall off the edge and break, with waves of pleasure controlling every inch of my body. It’s a paralyzing release that leaves me breathless.

  It’s quiet for a long moment as I lie limp across his lap. Finally he breaks the silence. “Good job, kitten. You did really well. I’m proud of you.” For some reason his praise makes my heart swell. I quickly look away and try to ignore the warmth I feel in my chest. Not to mention his fucking erection digging into my stomach.

  He reaches over me to grab something off the nightstand, but I don’t see what it is. I hear a cap snap open and I hiss as a cool dab of cream lands on one ass cheek and then the other. He chuckles, and it’s the sexiest fucking sound I’ve ever heard. He gently rubs the cream into my skin and I practically purr with affection. Aftercare. A small smile plays at my lips, but then I remember everything. Shame replaces every good feeling. I swallow as spikes seem to grow in my throat. What the fuck just happened?

  He reaches over to the nightstand for something else, and this time I look. My brow furrows as I catch a glimpse of something that I'm almost positive is a syringe.

  He stabs the needle into my ass, making me wince before I can do a damn thing about it. After a second he pulls it out and rubs the tender spot. “There kitten, now you’ve had your shots.”

  I look at him from the corner of my eye as he lifts me off his lap to sit next to him. Fuck, my ass hurts! I’m too scared to ask what the shot was, but I can’t take my eyes off of it. I need to know what he’s putting into my body. I swallow thickly and bite out the words.

  “Anthony, what was that?”

  “A shot of Depo-Provera,” he answers confidently.

  Birth control.

  He sits me upright, making me cringe from the stinging sensation and moves off the bed. I keep my head lowered and try not to show how fucking worried I am.

  “I’ll be back in one hour. Be ready for me this time.” He cups my chin in his hand. “I’ve been going easy on you, so don’t make me regret that.”

  His lips hover an inch away from mine, but he doesn’t lean in. My breathing picks up and I wait for him to kiss me. But he doesn’t.

  He drops his hand and walks quickly to the door.

  “One hour. Don’t disappoint me, kitten.”

  Catherine

  I breathe in deep and look at my reflection as I layer on one more coat of mascara. The cabinet is filled with high-end beauty products that are all brand new. It also contains my makeup bag, which he obviously stole from my house.

  I’ve been watching the clock like a hawk.

  My hair’s tied back in a loose braid, and my makeup is clean and natural-looking, just enough to cover the imperfections.

  The closet is stuffed with all sorts of clothing. From cocktail dresses, to slutty role-playing costumes, to everyday pieces that I actually love. He also brought along a duffel bag packed with a few items that I wear all the time.

  The variety of clothing, makeup, and accessories is strangely familiar. Some things I recognize as mine, but the new additions are all nicer, more luxurious versions of what I already own.

  The one thing he didn’t grab were the owl earrings my mother left me.

  They were hers, and when she found out she only had three months left to live, she gave them to me.

  They’re gorgeous. I'd admired them since I was a little girl. The earrings are yellow gold with ruby flowers in the centers of the owls, but I’ve never worn them. I was always too afraid I’d lose them. And now they’re gone.

  I tilt my head back and exhale, waving my hands around my face to cool my eyes and keep me from crying. It’s almost time, and I can’t ruin my makeup and piss him off.

  I don’t know why I was so lackadaisical when he came in this morning. Maybe it’s because I slept so damn well. It took forever to actually get to sleep, but when I did, I slept wonderfully. I guess allowing myself to cry some helped. I'm not sure why I wasn't more alert this morning. Maybe it's because he was so lenient last night, but whatever the reason, I can't let it happen again.

  I calm myself down and put the mascara back. Everything’s neat and put away. It makes me feel at ease. I just need to make the bed and then I can wait for him.

  I always make my bed in the morning. I think staying at home all day has made me a tidier person than I ever was before. So long as I’m capable of making the bed, I’m able to do anything. I snort a humorless laugh as I move the sheets into place and reach for the duvet. It’s so pretty and soft. It’s off-white, with thin silver threading making a paisley design throughout.

  I bend at the waist to lay my head down on the bed and love how I sink in to the mattress and smell the comforting scent of fresh laundry. As I inhale deeply, I hear the doorknob turn and the door slowly open. I quickly climb the bed and kneel at the end of it. I don’t know if this is where he wants me. My heart races. I don’t know any of his preferences. He never told me. He may want my hair a certain way, my makeup to be heavier, or my clothes to be different. I have no fucking clue. I need to ask him. He hasn’t given me anything. He’s not playing fair.

  As soon as I find out what kind of mood he’s in, I’m asking. So long as it’s a good mood.

  I hear him walk by the sofa and toward the bed, but I don’t look up. I keep my head bowed and wait. I’m on my knees, sitting back on my heels with my hands slightly in front of me, palms up.

  I’ve read a lot of books and there are so many damn positions. I don’t know which one he means by kneel. For Christ's sake, in movies they kneel on one foot, but I’m sure he doesn’t mean that though.

  I watch as he picks up my hand and places it gently on my thigh and does the same with the other. His fingers tilt my chin up so I have to look at him.

  “No need to bow, kitten.” He pets my hair as he talks. It’s soothing and rhythmic. “I want your eyes on me always. You never have to look away.”

  “Yes, Anthony.” I feel like I’m playing a role. It gives me a small thrill, but I have to remember this is an act. All of this is an act.

  “Did you find everything you need?” he asks.

  I look up at him through my lashes. He’s so fucking handsome. It still amazes me that he felt the need to take a w
oman when he could have anyone he wanted. That a man like him would stoop this low. I realize I haven't answered his question and bite my lip. I want to tell him I want more of my things, but I can’t. I’m too scared to do anything to upset him. Because of that, I merely nod my head in assent.

  “So I packed everything that you need, then?” he asks with slight disbelief in his tone. The way he says it makes me feel like I’d be a liar now to tell him that I want more of my things. My skin heats and I feel nauseated. I feel trapped in a corner, like no matter what I do, it’ll be wrong.

  “Kitten,” he says as he leans my body against his chest and runs soothing strokes along my back.

  “You can tell me anything. I promise I won’t get mad,” he says.

  “I want to go home.” The words fall out easily. As though they’ve been perched there, waiting for me to release them.

  “I know you do, but you can’t.” He keeps petting my back and I hate him for it. I want to move out of his embrace, but at the same time I don’t. I need the comfort.

  “What else did you want to ask?” he says. I’m quiet for a moment and he adds, “If you want certain things, you’ll need to ask for them.”

  “I have other things I want,” I say softly into his chest. I wait with bated breath for his reaction.

  “We’ll go together. Later tonight.” His answer surprises me so much I go completely still. I’m afraid if I move, or if I even breathe, he’ll change his mind.

  “I want you to be happy here. You know that, don’t you?” he asks.

  “Yes, Anthony.” I respond with the only answer that seems fit, but really, I don’t know that to be true. He wants me here to serve him. To play his fucked up game. He doesn’t want me here to be happy. He’s not doing me any god damned favors.

  He finally releases me and I maintain my position.

  He looks me over, assessing me before taking me by my hand.