Page 12 of The Mafia Assassin’s Redemption (Mafia Obsession #2)

TEN

harry

The pain is bright white and gone in an instant.

My ass radiates fire.

Before this, he did things to me. Sick things. Hot things. Wild things. And a part of me was still hanging on to the aftershocks of his tongue on my thighs, running along the edge of the panties, my pussy throbbing and aching for more.

I wanted more of everything from the man I hate.

The pain of the belt hitting my flesh should have extinguished that want.

It didn’t.

My entire being throbs and hums with a strange, unfamiliar need. The sound of the belt whizzing through the air, the slap of it against my flesh.

And now… oh God, and now he’s rubbing his hand over me. I whimper. “Let me up?—”

But before I can finish, the belt whistles in the air again, the searing pain making tears spring to my eyes.

“Don’t—”

He does it again and I scream .

“If you keep doing that, I’ll fucking kill you, skewer you, and wear your entrails as a crown.”

He only flashes that sexy smirk before doing it again and again and again until I don’t think I can take anymore. Except I can because the monster Torin does it one more time.

Everything’s on fire. Tears blur my vision, and I’m sure I must be bleeding because it hurts so damn much. It… I…

And then my traitorous clit throbs. I squeeze my thighs together.

“You’re a bloodthirsty thing, aren’t you? Don’t you get it? Talk like that gets me going.”

“Freak.”

“And that.”

“Bastard—”

“Keep talking and I’m going to keep spanking you.” He slaps me again with the belt, lighter this time. A patter of smacks rains down and I realize that with each stroke, he’s been hitting a different place.

“There are laws against this.”

The belt comes down hard and my clit throbs once more, my pussy alive, my blood burning, begging for more.

“Not if you’ve entered into a blood marriage,” he says, rubbing his palm over my throbbing ass. It slips down lower, a finger sliding between my butt cheeks, and my pussy actually spasms. I want this as much as I despise it, despise him.

He doesn’t do anything, just rests his hand there like a threat, and my whole focus zeroes in on what he’s doing and not doing.

I want… I want… I don’t know what I want.

Yes, I do.

More .

“I didn’t want to do that.” I know I’m defying the order to not talk, but I don’t care. I want more of what he’s doing, I want him to stop. I want to maim him and fuck him and I don’t know which side is up.

“You’d rather die?”

“Yes, if the other alternative is being here with you,” I snarl.

He sighs and slides his fingers lower, pushing one finger into my pussy and making me moan and shudder and my entire body light up.

More .

“That’s boring.” He pulls his finger from me and I have to grit my teeth to stop myself from begging him for more.

More of that insane heat floods me, the fullness from his finger pushing into me, my pussy clamping onto it.

He traces the wetness over my ass, the torn nightie riding high on my back.

“But you’re even more fucking delicious than I imagined. ”

“You disgust me,” I say.

And every nerve ending throbs with more .

“No, I don’t. You’re unbelievably fucking wet, Harry. Soaking, dripping, so wet you could form an ocean.”

It’s not even a hot image, and yet I can’t stop the heat and need that ripple through me. Then before I can suck in another breath, the belt whistles down and I scream as the white-hot pain explodes out to every nerve ending.

My pussy clenches.

“Is that all you’ve got?” I snap. “I thought you were better than that.”

“You want more, Harry? All you have to do is ask, but don’t you fucking come.”

He brings the belt back down on me, a sick twist of pain and pleasure, and I live for each stroke. I move around on top of him, rubbing against him, one hand on the mattress, the other pressed against his side.

Inside, the pressure builds, and he suddenly turns me, then pinches my clit through the panties. My burning ass sits on his thighs, and I scream as I explode in a rocking orgasm, one that undulates through my entire body.

He twists me again, his face savage and his eyes locked on the hand assaulting my clit. Another orgasm hits, and as it subsides, I try to pull away, breathless and panting.

He lets go of my clit, grabs me by the throat, and hauls me up to his mouth.

His lips capture mine in a soft, long, deep kiss, one that’s like what I imagine love is, something that caresses the soul.

It’s in stark contrast to the hand on my throat, the throb from the rough pinch to my clit, to the literal pain in my ass.

Then he lets go of my throat and holds the back of my head, the kiss deepening, turning hard and carnal. I claw at him, hungry for more of what he wants to give.

The orgasms were good. Unbelievable. I want?—

“More.”

All my mind can focus on is that and the immense pleasure.

He fists my hair, pulling my head back as he looks at me. “What was that?”

I narrow my eyes, gripping his hair in response, trying to pull him toward me so I can kiss and not think, so I can rock on his hard, thick cock resting between my thighs.

I want more, more, more.

My brain short-circuits from the euphoria. I can only see him. Smell him. Feel him.

Want him.

“More.”

“Get on your knees and beg.”

Part of me starts to say “no” as a beat of refusal resounds through my bones, but the desire’s stronger. His will is everywhere, seeping down into me, pushing me off his lap and onto the floor .

My hands hit the cool stone. He stands up.

“Take off the nightie.”

Easy enough. It falls from me since he already tore it apart.

“Please…”

There’s no cruelty as he looks at me, only pleasure. It gleams bright and I want it. In this moment, I don’t care who he is, only what he can do.

He walks to the wall and I take in the elaborate Celtic cross on his back, filled and surrounded by terrible, beautiful things. Like it’s an outward reflection of who he is. A terrible and beautiful thing.

Torin gestures at me. “Bra.”

My fingers are thick and shaking as I fumble and unclip it. It slips to the floor. And while I want to go to him, I wait.

“Good girl.” He nods. “Panties.”

My stomach flips. I’m doing this, but he’s the one in control. And somehow in this moment, that gives me the courage I need.

I don’t stand up. Instinctively, I know he won’t like it if I do. So I slide them down to my ankles. But when I go to take off the red high heels, he stops me with one look.

“Leave them on. I’m going to fuck you in them.”

Those words race through my bones. My clit throbs and pussy spasms. He’s rubbing himself now, one hand over his covered cock, moving slowly up and down his massive length.

God, it’s huge. His finger was big, so how…?

“Crawl to me.”

A whimper escapes my lips. “I can’t, I?—”

“Come on, Harry. Every brat has a good girl yearning to be free to please her master.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“That’s right, Harry. Come here and say it to my face.”

He continues to stroke himself and watch me. I grit my teeth, arms shaking with the internal fight as my instincts pull me apart. I want to go to him and please him and get my reward. I want to defy him and push him to punish me more.

My breath hitches as I start to crawl on hand and knee, hand and knee, and with every move forward, the desire in me blooms. I suck in air, the scent of him infusing me with need for the devil himself.

When I reach him, I touch his feet, legs, and grip his pants, tugging them down. An urge surges in my chest.

“Stop.”

I still my hands.

“Look at me.”

I raise my head, shivering at the glint in his eye.

There’s no smile on Torin’s face as he leans down to stroke mine. On the inside of the pointer finger of his left hand is a small tattoo of a Claddagh ring. Heart and crown and hands. I’m not sure what it means, but it means something to him, and even that’s a turn-on.

I mewl as he runs his thumb over my lips.

“Give me your hand.”

He continues to trace over my lips as I lift my hand, and he takes it, placing it on the hot steel rod in his pants. I run my fingers over the length, his hand on mine as he shows me how to touch and feel, and I want… I want to taste it. See it.

But Torin has other ideas. He pulls my hand away and lets go of my mouth, pulling me to my feet.

I’m not sure what I expect, but it’s sure as hell not him kissing me hard against the wall and lifting me in his strong arms.

My breasts smash against the heat of his chest, all that broadness, that thick, tattooed muscle, all for me.

The onslaught of his mouth is relentless, almost cruel with its perfect seduction. He undoes me with that kiss, cracks open all I’ve tried to keep locked up. In a moment flat, he has me more naked and exposed than I’ve ever been.

I scream as his fingers slide into my pussy. My body clamps down on the orgasm, a crashing, all-consuming wave that makes me shudder and quake.

He starts to thrust and I bite his tongue as he pulls his hand away, his laughter a rumble as he pushes his tongue farther into my mouth like a taunt, and then he drives his fingers back into me.

He really is an evil bastard.

In that little moment, I feel like I’ve got control. Like I can make him bend to my will. A bite, a smooth stroke of my tongue, and those magic fingers of his have me coasting carnal waves that I want to ride for an eternity.

Then I remember how he blew that hot breath on my clit and I almost melt with the fever of that. Oh fuck, I want more. I want him to do that; I want him to suck on me. Twist my clit.

I want him tender and sweet. I want to fight him and incite him into a spanking and a world of pleasure-dipped pain. I want all the rewards that come after that.

And if I have to crawl over glass, I’ll do it.

I’ll—

“No,” I cry.

He breaks the kiss and he hoists me up, over his shoulder, fingers still buried inside of me, one hand on my ass, toying with those sore strips of skin.

I just moan. I can’t even form a word. It’s too… intense. Too good.