Page 99 of Dirty Mafia King

Good Lord. No.

I dive forward and swim in the opposite direction, toward the large built-in bench. I’m almost there when fingers grasp my ankle and I’m yanked backward.

I kick free but only for a second. Hands grip my hips, and I’m lifted and tossed forward, the shallow water over the bench breaking my fall.

His chest slams into my back, and one of his thighs slides between my legs, which dangle off the bench.

I turn slightly.

Water clings to jet-black lashes framing furious blue eyes. “My men are jerking off in the motherfucking bushes.”

“What?” I gasp.

“What did I tell you?”

I struggle against him. But when his palm presses against my stomach, I still. “Is this about my bathing suit?”

“I warned you. Men are stationed all over the estate.”

Lord, it is. “No one saw me.”

“I saw you,” he hisses.

He steps back, yet his hands remain. Water sluices across his muscled chest, and my eyes follow the droplets as they drizzle over his gorgeous body before hitting the pool … Wait … he’s wearing suit pants?

I glance up.

And he’s staring down at the clump in his hand. His eyes close. “Madonna mia.”

It hits me all at once. Nothing remains of my bathing suit but white clumps of yarn. And he’s not unaffected by me or my nakedness … In fact, he’s struggling…

I’m terrified yet yearn to see how far he’ll take this.

“Tentami ancora una volta,” he mutters.

Tempt me one more time.

Then his eyes flash open.

“On. The. Bench.”

He tosses aside the yarn in disgust and shoves me down so my chest touches the tile.

“Start counting,” he orders, then—whack—his palm connects with my butt cheek.

I gasp.

He curses, then strips away the little bit of yarn remaining. “I don’t hear you. Count.”

“One,” I say on a rush as his hand descends once more.

“Two,” he corrects.

“Two,” I repeat, then hesitantly add, “three.” Oh dear Lord. He’s spanking me. And it stings.

And I rise onto my toes, eager for more.

“Madonna mia,” he repeats, before the devil within him takes over. He spanks me quickly and efficiently, like a man possessed, and I lose count.