Page 2 of His Dark Discipline

Most girls her age are sluts, posting photos of themselves all over the internet for every man to see or giving their used-up cunts to any boy with a car and a dating app. Yet somehow, Lily has avoided all of that.

Because she’s special…

“Fuck,” I grumble, crushing my glass of whiskey in my hand. A shard of glass cuts my palm, but I barely even feel it. The remaining alcohol spills onto my carpet.

“You must learn to control yourself, darling.” Marla smiles as she struts into the room, playing her part as the mob boss’ wife to perfection. With her dark hair up in a bun and her scarlet dress clinging to her surgically perfected curves, she looks cartoonishly sexy. Like Jessica Rabbit with a gun.

Marla is a high-end Benz, but her daughter is a fucking Ferrari.

I thumb the button for the maid. “Did they accept our offer?”

“What do you think?” Marla smiles, setting a hip against my desk. “How could they say no?”

“Good.” I nod. The news is a major victory for me. The Sicore brothers have now folded and given over their territory to me. Normally, this would be cause for celebration, and I can see in Marla’s eyes that she’s expecting a night on the town with me spoiling her, but that’s not what I want tonight.

What I want tonight is something I can’t have.

I stand and point to the mess as the maid enters. Her skin-tight yoga pants hide nothing as she sways her hips. She’s been wearing tighter and tighter clothing in her attempts to seduce me.

“Early bedtime?” Marla asks as I leave the room.

“I’m tired,” I lie.

“Age gets the best of all of us,” she teases.

“Do your job,” I grunt. “Don’t try and be a comedian.”

If Marla’s pissed, I don’t care. She has no right to be. She may be my wife on paper, but we’ve never even spent a night together. Never consummated our “love.” She’s had boyfriends, ones vetted by me and kept quiet by fear. Even if our marriage is a façade, I can’t let the rest of the world think she’s cheating on me.

This is my life now.

A

t the top. Alone. Tormented by the heavenly pixie that I can’t have.

Lily.

Perfection. A vision of a life I could never have. A life I could never deserve.

I’m pulling off my tie when I hear it: the sound of my shower running in the master bathroom. The girl seems to have a fascination with infringing on my space. It’s not enough that she wears my shirts and take naps in my bed. Now she has to use my shower too?

“Lily,” I bark as I stride to the bathroom door. “Get the hell out of there—”

Jesus…

My brain stops working when I see her, standing there completely naked beneath the sparkling downfall of warm water, her curves barely concealed by steam.

A hot pulse of fresh blood pumps my cock to its breaking point. The edge of one of my fly buttons presses painfully against my swollen tip. I can feel the load in my balls, a stream of hot cum that would fill her pussy to its limit.

I’m ready to burst, and I’m only looking at her.

She reaches up and runs her fingers through her long, chestnut hair, causing her hips to sway and her breasts to lift. They’re bigger than I thought. Her nipples are little pink gumdrops I’m dying to get my lips around.

And as she turns slightly…

There it is.

Her pussy. Ripe, shaved. A perfect little slit with cute lips just begging for my tongue. Her slender legs belong around my neck as I bend her in half and fuck her silly. She may be barely eighteen, but she has a woman’s body.

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