Page 21 of The Mob Boss' Pet

“Am I bleeding?” I ask, sniffling and swiping my cheeks with the backs of my hand.

He chuckles. “It wasn’t the harshest punishment I’ve ever given,” he says as though that should make me feel better.

I turn to stare at him. If he’s trying to put me at ease, he’s failing.

“No, Stephania. You’re not bleeding. I would never harm you like that.” His eyes darken as he gives his promise. “But I will spank you again if you earn it.” He cups my ass and I hiss, pressing my body forward. He won’t let me avoid his touch though and merely moves with me.

“I need ice,” I say, thinking to keep the swelling under control.

He shakes his head.

“No, pet. You aren’t allowed to take away the effects of your punishment. You are only allowed to feel it and accept it. And learn from it.” He runs a single finger along my cheek, collecting loose strands of hair and pushing them behind my ear.

I stare at him, unsure of what to make of this man before me. Men with his power could do anything to me and no one would bat an eye. I’m not stupid. Even if the police found me here, the Manetto family have enough money and pull to make them go away.

Vincenzo knows this, his arrogant grins aren’t for show. But instead of throwing me back into the basement and leaving me until I’m needed again for Roberto, he’s keeping me in his bedroom.

He’s stripped me naked and his cock is obviously ready for fun, but he’s only soothing me with a light touch along my skin. I wipe away the last tears and push off the post.

“How do you feel?” he asks, lifting my chin with his knuckle.

“It hurts,” I blurt the obvious, but keep my tone low. I don’t want to revisit his belt.

I expect him to laugh at my discomfort. It’s what he wanted, after all, right?

“No, I mean, how does it feel...” he presses his hand flat against my chest, “here.”

A familiar ache builds low in my abdomen. He’s not asking about my ass. He wants to actually know how I feel about all of this?

“I don’t know,” I try to pull away from his finger, but he grabs hold of my chin.

“Not an answer. Try again,” he says firmly but without heat.

“I feel fine,” I try.

He raises his eyebrows. Wrong answer, I guess.

“Warm,” I sigh.

“Go on,” he urges, letting go of my chin. But his fingers spread on my chest, he’s not letting me go.

“Confused? I should hate you right now,” I confess.

“But?”

I roll my eyes. “But I don’t. I just feel calm.” I quickly take a step back to get his hand off my chest. It’s too hard to censor my thoughts when he’s touching me. “Which is absurd.”

“It’s absurd that you feel calm?” he clarifies.

“Yes. I mean I should be all...” I wave my hands frantically in front of me. “Rattled and angry.”

“But you’re not.” He closes the gap between us with one step. “I’m going to touch you, Stephania, and you’re not going to push my hand away. You’re going to stand here like a good pet should and let me touch your pussy.”

My mouth dries. How can I respond to such brashness? I’ve never heard anyone talk so bluntly before. He’s not trying to shock me; this is just him.

He places one hand on my shoulder, probably to keep me still, and the other hand dips between my thighs. I freeze, unable to bolt and unwilling to move away, because as soon as his fingers glide through my sex I realize the worst part of this.

I’m wet. Not just wet but soaked and wanting. When his finger trails over my clit, electric bolts jump from nerve to nerve.

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