Page 8 of One Savage Union (Crimson Bonds #1)

LUCIA

O nce I realize his intentions, I fight like hell. "Let me up, you asshole; what are you doing?"

"Tsk tsk tsk, language, piccolo ragazza.

You're making my blood heat, and that's not good for what we have ahead of us. Now, I will bare your bottom and give twenty strikes to your beautiful ass as punishment. Then we are going upstairs to meet my capo, Mario, and a judge to get married. There’s no need to argue, as it has already been done.

And if you say one more word, I will gag you with your panties while you deal with your punishment. "

I thrash wildly, but he places one leg over both of mine, locking me in place—my heart pounds. No one has ever spanked me, ever. Not even my father when I was a child, because the bastard wasn't around. I can’t breathe.

"Shhhhh," Rocco leans over, his breath warm against my ear, sending a dangerous shiver down my spine.

"Calm down; you will survive this. Just like you will survive everything else coming your way now that you are known as Ricci's hidden principessa, take my hand to your ass with grace, a punishment you've earned.

When it's done, we can wipe the slate clean, get married, and you can learn how to wield the power you hold. "

If only he knew how powerless I felt.

Nothing about my life was ever by my design. My mother planned my musical career. And now, I’m being forced to marry a monster. I suck in a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts.

"And if I refuse?"

I feel Rocco shrug. "Then I will let you go, and you can deal with Leonardo and his hounds alone.

I promise you won't last twelve hours. He knows you're missing by now, which will only intensify his search.

Your father has no idea what's happening or that you even know who he is. I hate him for a myriad of reasons and would prefer to kill him. But I have to push all that aside and do things I don’t like to protect our family; that includes keeping you alive.

Matteo can't protect you from Leo, and even if he could, would he?

The man hasn't contacted you in twenty-four years. "

His words hurt, tearing open an old wound I’ve kept buried.

Longing. Rejection. I longed for a father, but he never came.

He never searched for me. My mother never discussed him, and I assumed the worst. But that didn’t stop me from wanting him.

Every little girl wants her daddy. I was no different.

The tears that fall now are no longer out of fear—I hate Rocco Fieri for making me feel this way.

I also fear him because he’s my father’s enemy.

How can I trust that he’ll keep me—his enemy’s only daughter—safe?

I whimper as he strokes my ass gently, his touch igniting something I refuse to acknowledge. My body betrays me, my breath catching as warmth spreads through my core. Though harsh, his voice wraps around me like a possessive embrace.

"I can take care of you, Lucia, but only if you obey me. I will not tolerate insubordination or reckless behavior. You must learn to control your emotions, or this life will eat you alive."

Would he let me go? Do I even want to test that theory? A part of me already knows the answer.

I don’t tell him about the note that arrived at my home before he and his goons arrived.

I don’t tell him that I’ve felt eyes on me since my mother died. Was it Leo? Or Rocco?

I don’t know why, but I trust Rocco isn’t trying to hurt me. He’s dangerous, but not in the way Leo sounds. I can sense it. Eventually, I will escape him, married or not. But for now, I need his protection.

Resigned to what’s coming, I take a slow, deep breath and whisper, "I’ll stay."

Rocco’s hand presses against my back, stroking me in slow, measured movements.

The rhythmic motion is hypnotic, lulling me into a trance.

I don’t know how long he has been doing this, and within moments, my body betrays me again, melting into his touch.

My eyes flutter shut, my mind slipping into a haze of warmth and exhaustion.

Then it stops.

His hands are gone, and a sharp chill rushes over my skin in their absence.

"Lucia, it's time."

With no preamble, he flings my dress up, baring my black thong. A low growl rumbles from his chest, vibrating through my bones, and I fear being utterly devoured for a brief moment.

His hands roam my curves, tracing slow, deliberate circles over my ass.

The sensation is maddening, each touch igniting sparks under my skin.

It starts gently—almost soothingly—before shifting into something darker, more demanding.

A delicious pressure kneads into my flesh, sending waves of heat curling through my belly.

I’m dripping wet.

What the hell is wrong with me?

The first smack lands with a sharp, stinging snap, and an unbidden moan spills from my lips.

Do I like this?

No, I’m just horny. That must be it.

I haven’t had sex in three years. No time, no interest. Men come with complications and expectations. My Lelo Enigma vibrator never demanded my submission, never teased me to the brink of pleasure to deny me release.

Maybe my lack of sex with an actual man has ruined me.

The third smack sends me rocking forward, my core pulsing with need.

If he keeps this up, I swear I’ll come like this.

The fourth, fifth, and sixth slaps come rapidly, each strike igniting something dangerous in my bloodstream. The pain and pleasure mix into a potent elixir, and my mind starts to float, weightless in the haze of sensation.

Fuck... I’m going to come...

Just a little more... just a few more...

But then he stops.

I let out a strangled whimper, my body trembling in protest.

He chuckles darkly, his fingers pressing possessively into my hips. "So, my little palla di fuoco likes having her ass played with. Too bad I won’t let you come. Bad girls don’t get orgasms until they’ve atoned for their sins. That was only a warm-up. Now, your real punishment begins."

I whimper, trying to grind my clit against his thigh, desperate for friction, but he holds me in place. His grip tightens, his hand sliding up to clasp my neck. The silent message is clear: he’s in control.

I struggle, thrashing against him, but my energy burns out too quickly. Defeated, I let the tension drain from my body, surrendering to him completely.

Rocco shifts his grip, his fingers threading into my hair. My tears fall freely now, but they’re no longer just about fear. They’re about everything I’ve lost and never had, and the terrifying reality of what’s to come.

He leans in, his breath hot against my ear, his voice a dark promise. "Now, mia palla di fuoco, tell me why you're being punished."