Page 73 of Mafia Virgin (The Kings of Italy)

No one had ever hit me in my entire life. “You want to hurt me.”

“I will never hurt you, Emma. But I will make you understand that you can’t lie to me.”

“By hitting me.”

A look of annoyed disbelief crossed his face. “You can’t be so innocent as to think a spanking is the same thing as hitting you.”

“It is if you’re doing it as punishment instead of in a sexual manner.”

“Maybe it’s both.”

“I can’t see how that’s possible.”

He pulled my mostly naked body against him, his hands sweeping down to cup my ass. I shivered as his lips trailed across my shoulder and neck, feather-light sweeps of his mouth that warmed me all over. Giacomo had really nice lips. I really liked kissing him.

When his face was near my ear, he whispered, “You have been a very bad girl.” A crack sounded just before fire exploded on my buttock.

I sucked in a breath and tried to move away, but he held me tight. “Feel that heat?” Another smack on the same spot. I jerked and let out a grunt. Then he said, “Wait. The pain will go away and leave only the best kind of burn.”

And flood my body with dopamine. I knew how this worked. Even if I wasn’t a pre-med student, I’d read enough sexy books to understand it.

But he was right. The sting eased and my skin feltalive. Tingling and bright. Wait, did I like it?

In a blink he sat and pulled me face down onto his lap. I stared at the floor and tried to regain my equilibrium. “What are you—?”

His palm connected with my flesh and another jolt of pain went through me. He was spanking me. On his lap. And my silk panties offered no protection at all against his palm. “Stop,” I said weakly, trying to get up.

He held me firm with one hand pressed into the middle of my back. I felt his fingers sweep near the crease of my thigh. Then he lifted the edge of my panties and settled the fabric in the crack of my ass. Then he did the same with the other side, exposing both my cheeks. “My good girl has been very bad,” he purred. “Do you deserve to be punished, bad girl?”

Arousal flooded between my legs at his words. Or maybe it was because of his low and seductive tone. Or maybe it was the anticipation of when he might spank me again.

My head was spinning and I was breathing hard. Still, I had to stick to my story. “I’m telling you the truth.”

He just laughed, and I felt a rush of air before his palm slapped my butt again. “I don’t like lies. Maybe if I punish you I will learn the truth.”

Before I could say anything, he gave me a series of spanks that stole the air from my lungs. Pain exploded in every cell, and I could do nothing but hang there and take it. There was no escape, no mercy from my husband.

When he finally stopped I exhaled in relief. It was over.

Warmth spread all through me. Then I felt his fingers probing between my legs. He rubbed me over the wet panties that were coated in both of us from before. Between the rubbing and the way my skin was glowing, I couldn’t hold back the moan that fell from my lips.

“That’s it,ragazzaccia.”

Bad girl.

I wasn’t a bad girl. I wasn’t like my sisters—but sometimes I wanted to be. Sometimes I wanted to be naughty and irresponsible, rude and dirty. “Please,” I whispered.

He dragged the tips of his fingers over my clit. “Are you ready to tell me the truth?”

“I did.”

Three smacks right in a row caused me to cry out. Then my sex swelled even more, slickness gathering between my legs. I closed my eyes against the rush of arousal. Was he going to edge the truth out of me again? I wasn’t sure I could take it.

In a single sweep he removed my panties. Then he was touching my bare flesh, sliding his fingers through my folds. “So wet. My sweet virgin likes to be spanked.”

“No, I don’t,” I said, but it came out weak.

“More lies.” He gave me two more spanks. “Let’s see if I can get you to tell me the truth.”

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