“You have ten more. I want you sore enough to remember this lesson tomorrow.”
She shoots a nervous look over her shoulder, and I give her hands a squeeze to reassure her. The room fills with the sound of leather slapping flesh and Summer’s little cries. I watch her carefully to make sure I don’t go too far. By the time I’ve given her three strokes, she starts saying, “ow” and “I’m sorry” and “Carlo” in the cutest pleading voice I’ve ever heard. I’m ready to come just from spanking her.
I drop the belt and rub her heated flesh.
God, it feels so delicious. I shouldn’t be touching her so intimately. Shouldn’t be seeing her almost naked ass like this, but I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything.
I pull her up, sweeping an arm under her knees to scoop her into my arms. Her breath catches, and then she tucks her face into my neck, which I love almost as much as I loved punishing her. I carry her into her bedroom and lay her down, sitting beside her.
She turns her face to me. I say nothing, just burrow my fingers into her thick, glossy hair, stroking it and massaging her scalp.
“You okay, principessa?”
She nods. “Yes. Thank you.”
I don’t know if she’s actually thanking me for the punishment, but the idea of her liking it, of asking for more, makes the sadist in me roar to the surface.
“Did you enjoy it?” she asks.
The corners of my lips kick up. “Yes.”
I try to get my head back on my shoulders, though. “This wasn’t for me to get my kicks, though, cara mia. I…I care about you. I hate to see you making choices I think you’re going to regret.”
Tears spring into her eyes, and her lips tremble. I gather her back up into my arms and run my thumb over her lower lip. “You and I both know that you aren’t right. You’ve lost weight, you’re jumpy, and if you’re spending your free time stripping, I doubt your studies are going well.”
The tears spill down her cheeks. “Carlo—” she chokes.
I wait, but she doesn’t go on. Resting her cheek against my shoulder, she finishes crying, letting me thumb away the tears as they fall.
She looks fucking beautiful, even with her eyes red and puffy. I don’t mean to do it—taking advantage of her in this state would be cruel, and then there’s the issue of her being the don’s daughter. But her lips look so damn kissable. Without my permission, my head lowers, and I claim her mouth.
It’s not a soft kiss, either. I go in hot, with the tension of four years’ frustrated desire burning behind me. I slide my tongue between her lips as I hold her head in place for my plunder. At the same time, I catch her breast, crushing it possessively, sliding my hand inside her little bikini top and thumbing her nipple.
I almost jizz when she opens to me, lifting her face and kissing me back. Her tongue darts out, and I lose whatever control remains. I abandon her breast and go straight for her core, fingering her over her panties and, when I find them damp, slipping inside.
I stroke her dripping pussy, running two fingers along the length of her slit twice then pushing my middle finger inside her.
She jerks and arches, breaking the kiss, but it isn’t shock written on her face. It’s lust. And damn if her knees don’t fall open in a clear invitation for more.
I mold my hand to her mons, using the heel of my palm against her clit as I stroke inside her. I add a second finger. Then a third.
Summer arches and rocks her pelvis into me, pushing for release. Her hands clutch around my neck, her head drops back. The tingling burn of her fingernails pressing into my flesh makes my cock throb. I wrap my fist in her hair and tug her head back while I pump my fingers in and out of her dripping pussy.
She thrashes underneath me, her legs sliding up and down as wanton noises escape her lips.
I finger-fuck her harder, letting my knuckles bump into her with force until her vocalizations reach a high-pitched keen. She cries out and, clutching at my fingers between her legs, shoves them deeper and holds them in. Her muscles spasm around my digits, squeezing and milking them, making me wish it were my cock inside her.
Five seconds, ten. Her orgasm goes on and on. When she finishes, she looks up at me with glassy eyes, her expression dazed. I ease my fingers out and kiss her again, showing no mercy. I’m not through with her. Not by a long shot. My brain conjures all kinds of images involving her stripped naked and bound, at my mercy. But...no. I need to get control. This can’t happen.