Page 20 of One Savage Union

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. Adelicious 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."

7

ROCCO

Growing up, Lucia probably never envisioned her wedding day like this. But then again, I doubt she ever imagined a man like me would be the one standing across from her, waiting for her surrender.

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