Page 108 of The Mafia Heir's Obsession

I don’t want to, but that tone demands I don’t disobey, so I push the dress up and do as he asked, stroking a finger through my wetness.

“Open up, Lucie. Hold your pussy open for me.”

Humiliation burns in my face as I do, the air whispering against me. And I look in the mirror.

Callahan is up from his seat and suddenly behind me. He grasps the cheeks of my ass, pushing his cock into my pussy, stretching me and filling me up. I shudder hard.

He starts to slowly pump me. “You’re not going to come. I’m going to come in you, and then you’ll try on the other dresses, dripping, and you’ll tell me the truth. Got it? This is your punishment.”

Callahan fucks me slow and deep and starts to rub my clit until I can feel it, the orgasm coming, but he can feel that inner quiver, too. He meets my gaze in the mirror and pulls out.

“Take off the dress, Lucie. We’ll get that. Try on some more.”

I do, shaking. And to my own eternal humiliation I start to flirt, stroke his cock, and when I have on a pretty dress with a low baby doll neckline, I push him onto the bench, then climb on top of him, sinking down, taking him deep.

“You’re not going to win,” he says.

“I am.”

“Bring it the fuck on, Lucie Joy.”

I pull down the top of the bra and free my breasts. He sucks and licks them, then looks at me. “Ride me hard.”

I do. I undulate on him, trying to get off. I mash my clit into him, the drag of his piercings almost excruciating pleasure,and when he bites my throat, I start to bounce on him, the fullness not enough. I need more, I need all of him, and I’m getting there. I can feel it build, the wild heat of the orgasm, the flutter inside, the pulsing of my clit as I rub it into him.

I hold him tight, bouncing harder. I’m almost there, I’m?—

He grabs me and hauls me off him, then shoves my head down on his cock as he comes in my mouth. “Not a fucking drop spilled or I’ll punish you for a week.”

I don’t want to be punished. I don’t even know what he’d do, but if it’s this, him almost letting me come and denying me, I’ll take a beating. I swallow him down. Every drop. Just like he wanted.

Then I rip myself away and wipe my mouth. “Asshole.”

“I guess we’ll take it all. Wear that one home. No panties.”

And the fucker presses the call button as he buttons up his pants.

I don’t speak to him for most of the ride home, but I do ask one thing, “Who’s O’Sullivan?”

“A sick fuck who tried to kill Declan when he was really young. I’m going to finish him. He’s not your business,” he says. “And I mean that kindly. I’m protecting you. Tell me what your father wanted.”

“To make sure you treated me right,” I say.

And he just nods. Not believing me.

Callahan leaves with his brothers when we get home. Something’s happened, I can tell, because he goes from being annoyed at me about Dad to stone-cold killer.

Under strict orders to stay home, I stare at the packages that are sitting in the hall, my shoulders slumping as my face falls into my hands.

Shit… what if something happens to him? I don’t want that. I’m trying to protect him and Dad. And… I grab my phone out of my bag and text him to be safe when my phone lights up.

Dad.

“Is something wrong?” I ask.

“I need you to do an urgent favor for me. I’m in a meeting and I need a package picked up and delivered.”

“Okay…”

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