Page 18 of The Mob Boss' Pet

“You. No, you can’t.” She points to the leather strap dangling from my fist. The buckle is tucked into my palm. I don’t want to harm her, but this will hurt her.

“I promise you, I can.” I smile. There’s already fear building in her eyes; her bottom lip trembles slightly. I love it.

“Vincenzo. Don’t do this,” she begs me when I reach for her.

“You’ve earned every lash you have coming to you. I promised you wouldn’t like what happened if you tried to run. I gave you warning, didn’t I?”

Her eyes flicker away from me. “Well, yeah, you did, but that doesn’t mean you have to do this.”

She’s grasping for ways out of what she has coming to her. It won’t work, but she hasn’t learned how true to my word I really am.

“If I don’t follow through, how will you learn to follow my commands when I give them the first time?” I ask, curious for her answer. She’s intelligent and obviously disciplined in some fashion if she’s been able to get through medical school.

“I won’t try to run away again,” she promises, but it’s not an answer. Probably because she doesn’t have one and I don’t see her as someone who will lie. I doubt Stephania has ever pulled an answer out of her ass in her life.

“It’s not entirely about stopping you from doing it again. It’s about taking the consequences for your actions. You were told not to do something or there would be consequences. You chose to do it anyway, so now you pay up.” I hook my middle finger through the loop on the collar and pull her closer to me. “If I promise a reward for good behavior, and you don’t get the reward even after you’ve been an obedient little pet, you’d stop believing me, right?”

She searches my expression, maybe trying to find a place she can hide and not see the truth blaring back at her. There’s no way out of this punishment.

“Yes,” she answers on a soft breath, almost inaudible. She’s coming around to acceptance. It’s good. She’ll be able to take what I’m going to give her easier if she’s accepted it.

“Good.” I inhale deeply, taking in her sweet aroma. Not flowery or covered by fragrance. No, my girl is all natural. “You won’t need your clothes. Take them off.” I release her collar and walk to the bed, leaning against one of the thick posts.

She doesn’t move though. Indecision has frozen her.

“This is the part where you show me you can and will obey. If you fight me now, how can I not add more to your punishment?” I ask in as calm a tone I can manage. My cock presses hard against the zipper of my slacks, but there won’t be any release until the job is done. Only then can I appease my own lust, while leaving her to drown in her own.

She opens her mouth like she’s going to speak, but snaps it shut. Smart girl. Just like I thought.

With no fanfare, she rips off her scrub top and lays it on the dresser. She grabs her scrub pants and yanks them off with her panties and kicks out of her shoes before tugging them off her feet. Again, they are dropped on the dresser. She’s left with her bra. Keeping her eyes averted from me, she reaches behind herself and unhooks the clasps.

There’s no underwire to the bra. While her breasts will more than adequately fill my palms, she’s not what my brothers would call stacked. She pulls the bra down her arms and tosses it onto the pile of clothing. When she turns back to me, she’s fisting her hands on her hips and raises her glare to my gaze.

Not a speck of awkwardness in sight. She’s not trying to hide her breasts, or cover her sex, but rather giving me a hard look. This isn’t a woman looking for my approval. This is a woman who’s confident in her skin and is daring me to challenge her.

My cock can’t get any harder.

I clear my throat to avoid growling and point to the bed. “Stand here and grab the post. I won’t tie you so long as you hold position. If you move or wiggle away, I will bind you to it and double the count.” I snap my finger and point to where I want her.

She drops her hands from her hips and saunters to me. I let her get all the way to me before I shake my head.

“Now, Stephania, do you really think that’s how a pet should approach its owner?”

Her eyes widen and a soft pink blush brushes across her cheeks.

“I’m not your pet,” she says in a harsh tone that doesn’t match her eyes.

“Oh, but you are.” I point to where she began. “Go back and try again.”

“Vincenzo—”

I grab her by the collar roughly, startling her too much to allow her to do anything but follow when I yank her toward the dresser again. I march her to the starting position and shove her to the floor. She scrambles down to her knees.

I release her. “I can get the leash if you need help,” I tell her.

She falls forward to her hands. “No,” she says but it’s more like a plea.

Leaving her there, I make my way back to the bed.

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