Page 63 of Mafia Darling

His lip curled in a look so fierce, so dominating that my knees trembled. “I will always want to spank you, monella. Can you handle me rough tonight?” He began unbuttoning his shirt.

My thighs clenched as more heat flooded my veins. He’d spanked me before and I loved it. The slaps made my skin feel alive, incredibly sensitive. I was definitely down for it, especially if he fucked me afterward. “I love it when you’re rough.”

He slapped my butt once. “Get on the bed. Bend over, with your ass in the air.”

I scrambled to obey.

I heard him chuckle behind me. “So eager. I love that most about you.”

When I was in position at the edge of the bed, he came up behind me, now wearing only black boxer briefs. He growled and squeezed one of my butt cheeks. “I’m going to spank you, hard. Then I’m going to fuck you. Hard. Would you like that?”

I squirmed, barely able to contain my excitement as adrenaline spiked in my system. “Yes.”

“Good. Allora, I will give you the choice. Would you like my hand or my belt across your ass?”

Oh, Jesus. I closed my eyes, a shiver running through me. Either? Both? “Should you be using a belt on a pregnant woman?”

“I asked your doctor that day at your appointment. She said it was fine as long as I didn't strike your belly.”

I remembered him speaking Italian to Dr. Russo that day. He’d been asking about spankings? My God, how mortifying.

Still, the idea intrigued me. The belt had come up that first time we’d fucked, and I remembered the way he’d caressed the leather in his long fingers. Could I take it? “Belt.”

“Perfetto. Put your feet flat on the floor.”

I shifted into position and he walked to his discarded trousers and picked them up. With a flourish, he pulled the leather from the belt loops, and the swooshing sound caused an echoing throb between my legs. Why was that so hot?

He returned, standing slightly to the side. “I think dieci. You will count.” Smoothing a hand along the small of my back, he asked, “Ready?”

I nodded—and pain exploded across my bare ass. “Holy shit!” I tried to move away, kicking my legs. The skin stung, like I’d been attacked by bees back there.

The pain eased and the area turned warm, tingly. Hyper sensitive. I sucked in a breath.

“Count, or you will receive more than ten.”

I wasn’t certain I could endure even ten. “One,” I said, quickly.

“In Italiano,” he snapped, fire cracking across my skin with another strike. “Now, Francesca.”

“Due,” I gritted out, my fingers digging into the soft duvet.

Three, four, and five happened in rapid succession, every slap in a different place along my ass and upper thighs. I shouted each number, my brain struggling to keep up. My lungs labored to drag in enough air, and I wasn’t certain about this. At all.

Then he paused and brushed gentle fingertips over the skin . . . and I sighed. The pain sparkled bright, my ass all sensation, and the light touch echoed in my clit. Fuck, that was nice. Painful, but nice.

“Va bene,” he crooned, arousal evident in his voice. “You are halfway, amore. So close to your reward.”

“Please,” I said on a long whine. I needed him to fuck me, right now. “Ti prego.”

“Oh, how I love to hear you beg. My dick is already hard for you again.”

My pussy contracted around the emptiness, and I could feel the wetness drip onto my inner thighs. “Ti prego,” I repeated. A blunt finger shoved inside me, stretching me, and my back bowed. God, yes. “More.”

He pumped lazily a few times, not nearly enough to give me what I needed. I tried to push back, urging him on, but he pulled away. “Soon. Very soon.”

The next crack of the belt across my skin stole my breath. It hurt worse than the first five combined. “Fuck! Shit! Sei!”

“That dirty mouth. Again, Francesca.”

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