Page 141 of Stalking Ginevra

“Do you understand your punishment?”

She swallows hard and nods, loosening a fresh set of tears.

“Are you sure about that?”

My hand trails lower, and I slip my fingers between her pussy lips. They’re slick with arousal, even as she trembles. I drag the digits across her wet folds, making her sob.

“Why are you so wet?” I growl. “It’s like you enjoy being chastised.”

She shakes her head, trying to deny it, but it’s useless. Her body is mine. As is her mind. I spank her again and again, harderthis time, savoring the way she jerks into my side, her cries mingling with the sharp crack of my hand.

Leaning in close, I growl into her ear, “Tell me what you want.”

Her body shivers, her sobs growing louder, each one a melody that fuels the heat coiling in my core. But it’s not enough. I want more than her tears. I want her absolute submission. I want her to beg for me.

I rub her clit in slow circles. She shudders, her hips moving against my hand, the rhythm of her need betraying her shame. She’s helpless against my touch, and I savor every second of her weakness, every inch of control.

“Speak, or I’ll stop.”

“Forgive me,” she bursts.

“Forgiveness must be earned, Ginevra. Tell me how.”

Her breath comes in short, ragged gasps, her hips convulsing with need. Without the freedom of being Bob Brisket, I might never have learned to play Ginevra’s body like an instrument.

When she doesn’t answer, I stop circling and withdraw my hand.

“Benito,” she says, meeting my eyes once again, “Please!”

“Tell me what you want,” I snarl. “Beg me.”

She shivers. “Breed me.”

“Tell me you want me to fuck you on this rug like an animal.”

Another sob bursts from her throat. “Benito?—”

“Now,” I snap.

“Please,” she cries, her words guttural. . “Breed me. Fuck me on the rug like an animal.”

“Dirty girl,” I snarl. “I’m going to pound into you until you bear my child.”

SIXTY-FOUR

GINEVRA

I try to steady my breathing, but it’s futile when my heart won’t stop pounding like it wants to break through my chest.

Benito pulls me back into his larger body, making me feel every inch of his control. The man I loved was never so sexual or commanding, but I suspect he lost his inhibitions with that beautiful woman.

As he slides down his zipper, I ask why the hell I’m thinking of her. My clit throbs with need, and my skin becomes more sensitive with each beat of my pulse, making me acutely aware of the burn in my knees from kneeling on the rug.

I hate degrading myself in front of the only man who placed me on a pedestal. Even more, I hate how desperately I need to come.

“Please,” I rasp, my hips moving from side to side.

Benito’s cruel laugh hits like a slap, and the blunt tip of his crown presses against my entrance. “Are you going to take this cock like a good wife?”

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