Eyes everywhere looked our way. It was easy to see who admired us and who hated us. As with any war, there were people who sided with us and people who sided with the Mancusos. Naturally, those fuckers were currently stuck in no-man’s land since the Mancusos were no more. But that didn’t mean they hated us any less—especially since we won the fucking war.
I walked straight to the stairs which lead to the VIP part of the club. Lucio had secured it by making sure no one else was allowed in that area but us. As I browsed the area, catching lingering gazes, the only thought that went through my mind was how I would kill any son of a bitch who dared look at my woman. Doe was beautiful. But she was my beautiful. And God help any man who desired what was mine.
It was only when Lucio secured the chain at the top of the stairs that I let out a breath. The second I was sure it was just us, the bartender, and waitress, I turned and rushed toward Doe.
“Are you okay?”
The brightest smile crossed her face, her cheeks all pink and flushed. “This is amazing.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
She placed her hand against my chest and leaned into me, gazing up into my eyes. “I’m fine, Antonio. Really.”
I brushed a thumb over her cheek. “Make sure you stay close, okay? And whatever you do, you do not go down those stairs. Understood?”
She batted her long, dark eyelashes, smiling. “Yes, Master.”
And like a fucking switch, my cock went from flaccid to granite. I snaked my arm around her waist, pulling her against me, letting her feel what she just woke up inside me. “Are you trying to tempt me?”
Her lips parted. “Maybe.”
“Don’t.” My gaze shot from hers down to her lips and back to her eyes. “You’re not ready.”
“How do you know?”
I tightened my grip around her waist. “The last time I used a whip, I almost lost control.”
Doe lifted herself, wrapping her arm around my neck and bringing my face down to hers. Her lips brushed against my ear. “Then it’s you who aren’t ready yet…Master.”
Like a starved animal, I bit into the skin of her neck, my cock aching like a motherfucker. If I had any kind of exhibition tendencies, she would have been naked and all fours, taking every ounce of raw fuckery I would dish out on that sweet little body of hers. And the way she just challenged me earned her a good ten lashes, at least.
The sound of the whip slicing through the air.
The crack of the lash across her skin.
The red welts tainting her flesh.
Sweet mother of Mary, the need that suddenly swept through my entire body almost forced the breath right out of me. But she was right. Even though we’d fucked like rabbits for the last few weeks, I’d not once reached for my whip after the night I hung from my four-poster bed. At first, it was because I knew she wasn’t ready.
Now, it was because I wasn’t ready.
Lorik came up from behind, handing me a glass of bourbon. I shook my head, and Lorik’s eyes almost exploded.
“What in the name of ever-loving fuck, dude?”
“I’m not drinking tonight.”
“Please tell me there’s one giant motherfucking reason why you would deny your body the sweet escape of alcohol?”
Unamused, I stared at him, deadpan. “The only reason I’m here is that you guys have my balls in a fucking deadlock. I’m not here to have fun.”
Lorik held up a finger. “First of all, the only person who has your balls in a deadlock is the girl in the purple dress. Second of all, we all know you need alcohol to have a goddamn personality.” He shoved the drink into my hand. “So, drink up Miss Congeniality.”
For the love of Christ.
I took the glass and rolled my eyes, placing a hand at the curve of Doe’s back, and walked over to the leather couches. We sat down, and I pulled her closer. “I’m guessing this is your first time at a nightclub.”
She shook her head. “Master V—”