Page 61 of Hard Lessons

The rasp of her breaths were loud in her ears, her smarting ass seemed to burn up against the air in the room.

“You’re a little minx,” he said, stroking the under curves of her buttocks. “And you should know better than to test me this way.”

Oh, she knew she was being reckless. That she was pushing the buttons—the wrong buttons—on one of the most dangerous men in Cosa Nostra, but she couldn’t help herself.

She had principles.

And she had a right to run when taken.

Oh, and I have a right to come when I need to... surely...

“Come here.” He gripped her right arm and tugged her to standing.

The world spun, she staggered to the right. The hearth blurred, the flames doubling at the top and seeming to melt beneath.

Immediately his arm was around her. She was pressed up against his body. Despite her weak knees she remained upright, his hold secure and safe.

“You’re okay,” he said, “breathe through it.”

She took a deep breath and gripped his forearm. The plug shifted in her ass and she gasped at the change of position, at the way it pressed forward, stimulating nerves deep inside.

“I’m not finished with you yet,” he said. “Not by a long way. Don’t think that I am.”

She hoped that meant he was going to fuck her. More than hoped. She sent a quick prayer heavenward even though it wasn’t the kind of request God was used to. Perhaps he’d have mercy on her poor, hot, desperate body.

Luca tugged her toward the bedroom. Not harshly and not fast. But nevertheless they reached the bed and he lay her down on top of the blankets.

She winced when her sore ass scraped on the material and tried to press her legs together, to stimulate her clit.

Luca either chose to ignore her or didn’t notice.

“Like this.” He raised her hands above her head.

After dipping into his bag, he produced a length of red rope. “I should have used these earlier, then you wouldn’t have been able to escape.”

“No. Please.”

“Resisting is futile. I want to know you’re going to stay where you’re put. It’s clear you can’t be trusted.” He looped the rope around her wrists, tight, then harnessed her to the wrought-iron bedframe.

She yanked her arms, straining her muscles as the metal creaked then banged against the wall. The rope dragged on her flesh.

He chuckled. “Fight all you want, Serena. It won’t do any good.”

“Stop being such a bastard,” she hissed, glaring at him and bending her knees, ramming her heels into the mattress. She bucked her hips upward then twisted from side to side.

“Bastard? Me?” He frowned down at her. “Why would you think that?”

“Oh, come on.”

“I’m simply showing my woman what happens when I’m disobeyed.” He leaned closer, his breath washing over her lips. “Say sorry.”

“No.”

“You sure?”

She glared at him.

“You’re going to regret this moment.”

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