by Jane Henry
"He's not a junkie! He's a dealer!" I’m repeating myself, and nobody is listening.
“As if it makes a difference," Enzo says. “I’ll look into it. In the meantime, you're staying here. No going out for any reason. No classes, no friends, nothing.”
"I can’t live like that, Enzo. I might as well go back to my father if that's how it's going to be.”
“Going back to your father might be very well what happens,” Enzo says, not meeting my eyes. “My priority is keeping you safe."
I watch as he goes to the kitchen, grabs some Lysol and a paper towel and starts cleaning up the blood on the floor like he's done it a million times before. I can't help wondering how much blood Enzo has shed. How many lives he's taken. And why he thinks he can keep me safe when we live in a world which is anything but.
Enzo functions inside a prison without walls. There are people inside his circle, the real ones. Then there are people outside it, the disposable ones like Davo. I feel sorry for him most of all. They’re going to use him and hang him out to dry when they're done, and they won't feel one bit of guilt for having done it either.
“Go get ready for bed, Mia,” Enzo says. “It's late.”
I bite my lower lip, weighing the options of keeping on arguing with him to no avail, or giving up and doing as he says.
“The world is changing, Enzo. You're going to have to change with it.”
He picks up the blood stained paper towel in one hand and points toward the bedrooms with the index finger of his other hand.
“Bed. Now.”
Chapter 12
Enzo
She stares at me for a moment when I order her to bed, as if trying to hedge her bets. I doubt she questions whether or not I’ll whip her ass if she defies me now. I’ve done it before, I’ll do it again, especially now, when I’ve exhausted every ounce of patience. I can only guess, then, that she’s weighing whether or not she wants a spanking.
When she doesn’t scurry off to bed like a good little girl, I get to my feet, fully prepared to bend her over my knee and spank her into submission, but as soon as I step toward her, she runs. She almost trips on her too-big sweats, but catches herself just in time. Slams the door.
Ha. As if that would keep me out.
I pinch the bridge of my nose and draw in a breath.
I can’t shield her from this world. She was born into it, and she’s as much a part of the tapestry of the family as any of us. I can’t shield her from the violence or the danger either. The only thing I can do is keep her safe, and hell, I’ll do whatever it takes until I draw my last breath to do just that.
She won’t like being on lockdown with me. She won’t like not having her freedom, but what she doesn’t know is the little freedom she had was only an illusion anyway. She’s the daughter of Piero Russo. Her fate was sealed the moment she drew her first breath.
There will be no freedom, no globe trotting, no hitting shopping malls with her friends. And goddamn, if that isn’t the biggest mistake her father’s made in all this.
Normal fathers who spoil their daughters reap the consequences of their actions by raising selfish, dependent children. Piero’s done far worse. He’s deceived her. Given her false hope. Let her dream. And I’m the guy who’ll shatter those dreams.
A part of me wonders if he did that on purpose. Was shattering the dreams of a beautiful, innocent girl like Mia part of my punishment?
I wash my hands in the bathroom sink, staring as the sudsy water tinged with pink swirls down the drain. I scowl at the lacerations on my hands.
I could’ve killed them both tonight and not thought twice about it. Davo, for daring to come near my girl when I fucking warned him, and Emilio, who’s a fucking douchebag prick. I shake my head. He’s goddamn lucky I didn’t kick his ass.
I need a fucking shower and a good night’s sleep.
I peel my clothes off and toss them in the hamper, turn the shower on, and wait until hot steam billows into the bathroom.
I wonder how she is. Was she affected by what she saw tonight? A vivid reminder of her past, her present, and her future? Does she think I’m a monster? Christ, I hope she does. If she has any stupid fantasy about me being a good guy, we might as well clear that up. Christ.
I step into the shower and stifle a groan. She’s taken the whole damn thing over.
Curvy pink bottles of shampoo and conditioner sit on one shelf, beside a silver can of shaving cream with a pink lid, and a lavender razor that hangs on my wall with some suction cup thing. There’s a large tub of something with waves all over it labeled Salt of the Earth Sea Salt Body Scrub. Why the fuck does she need to scrub her body down with salt? Jesus. Big, fluffy, sponge-like things hang from hooks beside a shower cap, an oval-shaped thing on a string that’s a mystery to me hangs beside it. A huge bottle of ivory body wash with a golden cap dominates the top shelf.
I can hardly find my one lone bottle of shampoo amidst the sea of girly bullshit all over the place.
Finally, I find it, huddled in the back as if embarrassed by the presence of the entire Ulta catalog on my shelf. Cursing, I pour some into my hands and lather up my hair.
“Shit!”
I’m not alone.
Mia’s dressed in her signature tiny shorts and scrap of a tank she wears to bed. She’s pulled the shower curtain aside, and she’s staring at me.
“You’d better have a good fucking reason to be in here,” I say to her. “Like someone’s broken into your bedroom and threatened you.”
She bites her lip and frowns at me. “Well, no, I…” and then it’s like she suddenly realizes I’m stark naked in here. I have no shame, but Jesus, the girl just leapt headfirst into dangerous, shark-infested water.
“Then out, Mia.”
“I don’t care if you punish me!”
My chest tightens. “Come again?”
“I know I’m supposed to do what you tell me, and I will, when I think it’s right, but right now, I don’t think it’s right, I think this is.”
That’s it. I’ve had it. I rinse the soap off, twist the shower off so hard it squeals, and whip the rest of the curtain back. To her credit, she doesn’t back down.
“I came in here to see if you’re okay.”
“I’m fucking fine,” I tell her, grabbing a towel and and throwing it around my waist as I walk toward her. “You’re the one who isn’t gonna be sitting for a week.”
She backs up away from me, misjudges the space she has, and whacks her head on the side of the large wooden shelf filled with towels.
She winces and grabs at her head, and her eyes water.
“C’mere,” I mutter. I reach for her, tip her head to the side, and inspect the damage. “You’ll have a bruise, but you’re okay.”
My arms are around her, my bare skin on hers.
“Don’t do that,” she says, shaking her head at me. “Let me go.”
“I have to see if you’re okay.”
She pushes my hands away. “I came to see if you’re okay. Like maybe you need some Neosporin on your knuckles or something.”
Despite my foul mood, that makes me laugh. “I don’t need neo-fucking-sporin,” I tell her.
What I need is a good, hard fuck, three fingers of the best goddamn whiskey a man can find, and a solid eight hours sleep.
She rubs her hand on her head, and one of the little spaghetti straps on her top slides down her shoulder. The uppermost part of her full breast shows, beaded with perspiration from the steam in here.
I’ve kept ahold of myself for days, sleeping in the same house with her, jerking myself off in the shower twice a day to try to keep from doing something I regret, but somehow, those little droplets are like blood to a vampire. I bend my head, pull her closer, and lick them off her.
“Oh God,” she moans, and her eyelids flutter shut. “Don’t do that.”
But I can’t stop myself. I tug her top down, and her full breast pops out, pert and rounded, her dusky pink nipples already ha
rd and so fucking gorgeous, I’m gonna lose my goddamn mind. Before I know what I’m doing, her nipple’s in my mouth, between my teeth. Her groans and pants are the stuff of fantasies.
She reaches for me as if to steady herself. My hard length pushes the towel aside, and before I can stop her, her soft, sensual hand’s wrapped around my cock.
I suckle her nipple while she jerks my cock. I couldn’t stop now if her fucking father had a gun to my head. It feels so good, tasting her, my cock sliding in her hand with utter perfection. I glide my hand to her clothed breast and finger her nipple while I suckle the other.
She tugs my cock harder, faster, glides her thumb over the head. It feels so good I can’t fucking breathe. I reach for her shorts and try to yank them down, but the goddamn things are flimsy and tear. Her movements are frantic, mine determined, as I reach for her pussy and slide my fingers through. She jerks me harder, faster. I’m gonna come all over her, and I’ll never get that image out of my mind again.
“Please, sir,” she groans. I feel it straight to my stiff, throbbing cock. I stroke her clit and suckle her nipples, first one, then the other, and when I glide my hand to her hot, wet, hole, she clenches around me, throws her head back, and screams as she comes.
I lose my mind. I come so hard, spasms ripple through me, my hot seed splashing on her bare belly. She doesn’t stop, even through the haze of orgasm, she jerks me off while she writhes and moans against me. Fuck, I can’t see straight, and close my eyes, intent on giving her the best damn orgasm I can.
“Enzo, yes,” she moans, and I swear to fucking Christ I could come all over again just hearing those words.
“I’m gonna punish you for this,” I growl in her ear, but she must hear the smile in my threat, because she grins.
“I hope you do.”
I lift her bodily and place her in the shower, kicking her tattered clothes and my towel to the hamper.
I turn it back on and lather her up.
“Mia, why do you need six goddamn bottles of shit?”
She smiles, her eyes closing shut as I lather her hair. “Shampoo, conditioner, and deep conditioner,” she says. “Body wash and exfoliating scrub, shaving cream and after-shave.”
“That why you always smell so damn good?”
She bites her lip, and her eyes flutter open. “You never told me I smelled good.”
“There are lots of things I’ve never told you, because I was trying to prevent the exact thing we just did.”
“Why does complimenting a girl spell danger?”
I rinse her hair and dump some of the damn girly body wash all over her loofah thing. “Getting anywhere near you’s danger,” I tell her. “Because you’re dynamite.”
She tips her head to the side, and little bubbles dance on her temple. “Really?”
“Really.” I wash her all over and rinse her off.
“Same, you know.”
“Same what?”
“I get near you, and my body does strange, wonderful, terrible things. I sit in your class, and I imagine what it feels like to be punished by you. And the next thing I know, we’re not talking about the the evolution of criminology in America, I’m imagining sitting on your desk and spreading my legs while you lick my pussy.”
My stomach clenches with the onset of sudden need again.
“Christ.”
“You threaten to punish me, and all I can imagine is being strewn over your lap while you spank me, all helpless and overpowered and turned on. You cook dinner, and I watch your powerful hands, the muscles in your body all taut, in need of attention. I imagine massaging you, my hands all over your muscled back and you’re bare from the waist up.”
“You’re a dirty little girl.” I try to make it sound chiding, but it comes out like I’m approving instead. I finish rinsing her off and step out of the shower, grabbing two more towels. I dry off and put one around my waist, then take her hand and help her out. I towel her off, too.
We exit the bathroom and I take her hand.
“I’d give it to you, you know,” she says softly.
I stop and look at her. “Give what?”
But her cheeks are flushed pink. She doesn’t want to say it out loud.
“Say it.”
“You know,” she says softly. “My virginity.”
I close my eyes to stop the pounding of blood in my temples, my heart slamming against my ribs, kinda similar to the way some brother’s fists would slam against my head if I did just that.
“Okay, now you go to bed,” I say.
I don’t miss the way her eyes shutter and her lower lip juts out in a pout.
“Don’t you want me, Enzo? What is it about me that you don’t like? That you reject?”
“Mia,” I growl. I turn down the sheets to her bed and pat it. “Stop this nonsense. Be a good little girl and I’ll tuck you in.”
But she crosses her arms on her chest and scowls at me. “No.”
My body stills. I look at her questioningly. “Did you just tell me no?”
“You might be older than me, but not so old you need your hearing checked,” she says, with a note of petulance in her voice that’s goddamn adorable.
“Maybe I do,” I say, cupping my ear with my hand. “Why don’t you say that again?”
“I. Said. Fucking. No!”
It’s a little awkward hauling a girl over your lap when you’re wearing nothing but a towel, but I manage.
“I knew you were going to do this!” she screams, scissoring her legs.
“So you manipulated me into doing this?” I ask. “You wanted a spanking. If you want a spanking, all you have to do is ask for one.”
“Bullshit!”
“Language,” I growl, and I slap the underside of her ass, hard. I just came all over her, but the feel of the smack of skin on skin makes me hard again.
“Who in their right mind would ask for a spanking?” she asks.
“A good little girl who knew what was good for her,” I say. But I don’t smack her butt again. I rub where I spanked her, then give her a little squeeze. “I’m not going to let you manipulate me. I don’t work that way.”
What she wants is a good spanking, and even though she’d do well with just that, I mean it. I will not be manipulated.
“You do need to be punished, though,” I tell her. “You disobeyed me and talked back. You defied me.”
She stills over my lap. “You’re right, sir,” she says. “I was a naughty, naughty girl.”
I’m glad she’s belly-down over my lap so she doesn’t see the grin I can’t hide. She’s playing this perfectly, the little brat.
I lift her off my lap. She stands in front of me, confused and so beautiful it makes me ache.
“You were a naughty girl,” I say. “Lay on the bed and spread your legs for me.”
My cock hardens all goddamn over again, but I ignore it. With wide eyes and a shit-eating grin, she does exactly what I tell her.
“Good girl,” I say. “Just like that.”
I kneel in front of her and drape her legs over my shoulders. She thinks she’s getting exactly what she wants. She’s going to learn I don’t play that way.
I kiss her pussy and tease her with the tip of my tongue until she’s squirming and moaning. Her hands fly to my hair and she anchors herself on me. She’s so ready, so primed, it doesn’t take long until she’s panting and on the cusp of climax.
Which is exactly when I stop, take her legs off my shoulders, and swing them onto the bed.
“Bed, baby,” I tell her.
“Wait. What?” she asks. “Enzo!”
I tip her to the side and give her ass a hard slap. “That’s sir to you.” I lift the blanket and tuck it in around her.
“You can’t—I don’t—why?”
“Why?” I ask. I stand beside the bed and cross my arms. “Because you need to be punished for manipulating me. You want a spanking, so you’re not gonna get it that way. Tonight, I’m punishing you this way.”
<
br /> “By denying me an orgasm?” her brows draw together and she glares at me.
“No, princess, by docking your allowance.” I roll my eyes. “Yeah, by denying you an orgasm. And you’re not getting another one, not by me or your own damn hand, until you obey me.”
“Enzo!”
I cluck my tongue and shake my head. “Gonna be a while before you come again.”
“Sir,” she pleads.
I walk to the guest room closet and grab a pair of old pajama bottoms I tossed in a bag to donate. I pull them on, walk to her side of the bed, and lie down.
“What are you doing now?” she mumbles. “Trying to make it harder for me by lying there looking like a damn Calvin Klein ad?”
My lips quirk up. “No, honey.”
Her face softens. “Aww. You’re laying beside me to make sure I get a good night’s sleep?”
I shake my head. “Also no.”
She looks confused. “Then what?”
“Making sure you don’t slide your hand between your legs and touch what’s mine,” I say.
Her eyes widen, and she shakes her head. “You’re evil.”
“’Bout time you caught on.”
Chapter 13
Mia
He’s going to fucking kill me.
I don't mean that literally. I mean when I’m near Enzo, I forget about all my dreams. Everything I thought I wanted for myself becomes irrelevant. All I want is him.
Not touching myself is torture. Having him not touch me is worse. I know why he’s holding off, but I also know something else: it's inevitable. We're going to be together. I've never felt passion before like I do with Enzo. He makes my body come alive.
I lie in bed awake, trying to process everything that has happened. I saw the brutal side of Enzo tonight in full force, and then I saw his passion. I felt his cock in my hand, throbbing with dominant life.
I want to be with him. In every way. I can't help myself, thinking about everything, a whole future of dreams. Getting married to him. Having his babies. I didn't think I wanted babies, but Enzo makes me want everything.
I’m falling for him, head over heels, and I can't help myself. I told myself that I’d find someone outside the mafia. A rich guy without criminal connections, a businessman, or maybe a rockstar. I never, ever thought I would fall for a man like Enzo. I'm still not sure I should, but I'm not in control of that.
