Page 56 of The Mob Boss' Pet

“How do you feel?” he asks softly, the same way as he did last night.

And my answer isn’t very different. Why does this feel so easy with him? He just spanked me in his kitchen!

“Confused,” I answer honestly, because I can’t pick apart all the emotions dancing inside me. My ass hurts, but my chest aches in a different way. Like it wants more... of him?

His thumb brushes across my cheek capturing a runaway tear.

“I know,” he says quietly.

“I wasn’t trying to be disobedient.” I say. “I think I was taking advantage though.”

He nods slightly with a knowing smile. “Understand something, Stephania. No matter how happy I am with you, if you step out of line, I will put you back in it.”

A blanket of assurance wraps around me. He doesn’t play games. He’s never offered me anything more than he would deliver, and he’s doing the same here. He’s assuring me that no matter how much I push against him, he won’t move. He will always be a strength I can count on.

Even if sometimes I don’t want it. Because I need it.

I shake my head, trying to knock loose the thoughts. I’m a fucking doctor. I went through years of medical school. Of living on my own and taking care of myself no matter what shitty situation was thrown at me. I shouldn’t need his strength.

“Independence doesn’t have to mean alone,” he says softly, dropping his hands from my face. This man, this cruel criminal, sees into parts of me never before exposed to light.

“I...” I take in a shaky breath. “I’m going to head back upstairs.”

He picks up his belt. “I’ll go with you. I think some time in your crate will help you.”

I blanch. “I don’t need the crate. You already punished me.” I pointed to the table, the scene of the crime—or rather punishment.

“It’s not a punishment, Stephania,” he assures me. “You’ll come out of your crate softer, more relaxed. Trust me.”

Trust me.

I don’t even trust myself at the moment. But I lack the energy to argue with him, because he’d win.

I follow him up the stairs and back to the room. As we pass Roberto’s room, I hear the familiar sound of a hand smacking into a bare ass. I stop at the door, and stare at it, as though I can see through it.

“Don’t.” Vincenzo grabs my hand and pulls me along.

“His stitches,” I stutter, still staring at the door as I’m led away.

“He can worry about that.”

“But she didn’t do anything wrong,” I say, still looking behind me.

“I have a feeling she did. From the sounds of it, I don’t think she’s enjoying herself.” As if on cue, a cry escapes through the door and chases us down the hall.

My ass twitches in solidarity with Sarah. At least she was brought upstairs before Roberto laid into her.

I enter the bedroom and fold my arms over my chest.

“I’m not fixing him if he breaks a stitch,” I proclaim, as though I have any power in this house.

Vincenzo shuts the door. “Noted. If Roberto breaks a stitch punishing his fiancée, he’s on his own.” He walks to the crate and opens the door. “Undress and get in.” He gestures with his thumb.

I pull off my shirt and my leggings, dumping them on the floor by the door, and sink to the floor. By now, I know what he wants, and after seeing the disappointment in the kitchen, I’m eager for his approval.

I can’t overthink these things. If I keep tossing them around in my head, I’m going to end up angry and confused. If I’m going to get through the rest of my time here, I need to go through the motions and block the emotions they dredge up.

“Very good.” He crouches to my level when I’m near the crate and holds the door open as I crawl inside. The metal latch clicks into place as I turn around to face him.

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