Chapter 39 – Alessandro
S he didn’t expect me to follow through. I smiled, enjoying the fascination on her face as she walked around the club. Even though the warm spring sunlight streamed through the windows, the Mezza Luna was dark, with warm mood lighting.
“Upstairs is a traditional gentleman’s club,” I explained. “There are billiard tables, cigar rooms, and private spaces for the elite of Chicago to conduct their business.”
“With strippers.” Penelope rounded on me.
“The waitresses aren’t allowed up there, only the butler and his staff.” It was hard to hide my smirk as she stewed.
“This is a lot fancier than the Sugar Daddy’s on Highway 18,” she muttered. “But you said you owned a strip joint.”
I nodded. “Many of the waitresses are talented dancers. They perform if the mood strikes, but dancing isn’t mandatory.”
And if they picked up dates along the way, so be it. That wasn’t my area of the business. A capo and his brother ran this place. So long as the police stayed out of their business and their contribution to the Famiglia was delivered, I let them run it as they saw fit.
Opening the door, I led Penelope down the back exit. “Well, you’ve seen three of our businesses. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”
Sitting back in the seat of the SUV, I watched my wife adjust herself next to me. Nico pulled away from the curb, pushing the button to close the partition and give us privacy.
“Where do you work?” she pressed. “And what do you do?”
“Upper management,” I smirked.
Her lips pressed in a thin line at the evasion. “Fine, don’t tell me.”
Tell her. If she understood…if she knew the load on my shoulders…. I leaned forward. “These secrets, they don’t just affect me. I’m responsible for the lives of all my men, their women, and even the children.”
The way she studied me, it was impossible to tell if my words made a difference. I needed her to understand. But how could she? Women who grew up in this life didn’t understand, what would make me think she would?
Gaze shifting to the window, Penelope spoke in a faraway voice. “Being the responsible one is hardest.”
Was it possible that she knew something about the weight I bore? My heart pattered rapidly.
“They see the fruits of our labor but don’t understand the journey to get there.” A long sigh whispered through her lips. Shaking herself, she turned to me. “Thank you for showing me your empire, don.”
I dipped my chin in a nod. A rare emotion, delicate and fragile, bloomed in my chest. Did I dare let hope flourish? Was this woman capable of understanding me? My role in this world?
“Show me your headquarters?” Penelope asked.
I reached for the communication button. Her interest in my work was intoxicating. Penelope was the first person close to me that wanted to see behind the curtain. And I knew in my gut she could handle it, but what she did with the knowledge remained to be seen.
After giving Nico the instructions, I sat quietly with my thoughts until the town car parked. When the driver gave the all clear, I emerged, moving to open Penelope’s door, but she was already springing out. Her boots clipped across the pavement as she looked around.
“A bakery?” The confusion on her face was priceless.
Before I could speak, Tony bustled from the front door. The baker wiped his floury hand on his apron, excitement radiating from his burly figure.
“Signore, signore! You brought the signora,” he beamed, words broken and barely comprehensible. He continued to ramble about the honor of us visiting him, and then he rattled off the special treats he’d just whipped up.
Penelope’s smile became careful as she focused to understand what he said.
Crap.
I should have given her a heads up. Tony’s garbled speech was something every member of the famiglia was used to, and we understood him well enough. But it was hard to remember how shocking it must seem to a newcomer.
“Penelope, meet one of the best men I know,” I said, sweeping a gesture between them. “Tony, this is my wife.”
The baker ambled over with his equally broken gait. They shook hands, and Tony excitedly pointed to the inside, lisping and spluttering about the fresh batch of pastries cooling on a wire rack.
Penelope nodded and eagerly followed. We had to accept coffees and pastries before the loyal soldier let us escape to the upper level.
“Tony is the best guard a man could ask for,” I said by way of explanation.
“I can see that,” Penelope said as she climbed the stairs before me.
When we reached the top, I put a hand on her shoulder. “A rival mob got their hands on him. It’s been years, but the damage is irreversible.”
“What did they do to him?” Penelope whispered.
“Broke bones beyond repair. Cut off part of his tongue.” I left out that they’d used his body as a dartboard for weeks on end. The horror in her eyes showed her innocence. No…Penelope might have adapted well to the underworld, but I doubted she would ever be able to understand. What happened to Tony was what drug me from bed every day. That would not happen to anyone so long as I was in power. Each soul was mine to protect.
I pushed into my office.
Penelope wandered around as I took a seat behind my desk and turned on the desktop. I watched her from my peripheral as she explored each nook and cranny.
“It’s like your home office,” she said with a huff, sinking into a chair opposite my desk. “Anal retentive neat. No torture chambers. Not even a tech wizard command center—just a boring office.”
I smirked. “Sorry to disappoint.”
Plucking the coffee from my desk, Penelope stared at the liquid. It wasn’t her extra-large, American swill that she consumed by the pot-full.
“Tell me,” I coaxed, unable to take the silence any longer. “What thoughts are playing in your mind, beautiful?”
Penelope snorted. “How do you work above a bakery and not weigh a thousand pounds?”
It was my turn to let a harsh laugh out. “Discipline.”
That word was a spark. Desire lit in her eyes.
“You’re very good at discipline, aren’t you.” She trailed her finger over the edge of my desk. “It makes me wonder if that’s the type of boss I want to work for.”
Heat struck my veins as though lightning flashed from the heavens. Blood shot to my groin, and my dick hardened instantly.
“Should we find out?” I urged.
“But I haven’t messed up,” Penelope protested. “That’s hardly fair.”
I loosened my tie, drew it slowly from my neck, and ran it through my palm. The little wasp tracked every movement, gaze glued on the piece of silk.
“Are you sure?” I drawled.
Those hazel eyes snapped to mine. “Quite.”
“I think you’re keeping secrets.” It was a broad guess, but the flash of surprise on her face confirmed there was indeed something.
There always was.
“Do you feel like making a confession?” I coaxed.
Penelope shifted. “Well, there is one thing. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up, though.”
I rose and moved toward her. “It’s better to confess your sins on your knees, vespina.”
Her chin tipped up. “This is a serious matter, Alessandro.”
Darting forward, I wrapped my fingers possessively around her throat. “To you, and you alone, it’s Alessio.”
There wasn’t much pressure on her slender neck. But her words still came out hoarse. “Just the other day you insisted it was Alessandro. Now you’ve changed your mind?”
I had.
While my siblings sometimes called me Sandro, Penelope was the first to use the other form of my name. She would be the only one from now until death parted us.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I growled. “You’re going to lock that door and take your clothes off—but not your bra or panties. Those are mine. Then I’m going to fuck you hard. Whatever else unfolds will depend on how well you listen.”
Anticipation crackled between us. My thumb slid over her pulse, feeling the wild beat of her heart. Penelope wasn’t scared. She wanted this as much as I did.
“Go. Lock the door,” I instructed, giving her a squeeze before releasing my hold on her.
Penelope arched a brow. Defiant as ever.
“I suggest you obey, or your punishment will be far more severe.” I wanted to dominate her, force her submission.
No…not force. Earn. She was the kind of creature that a man needed to earn the respect of. Make her feel comfortable enough to submit.
Penelope took two steps back. Her fingers gripped the hem of her blouse, shucking it over her head. Those full breasts greeted me, nipples hardening under my gaze. Penelope flicked the button on her jeans, and the pants shimmied to the floor.
There she stood, completely naked in the middle of my office.
“I was in a hurry because I took too long deciding what to wear for the tour,” she said by way of explanation. “I didn’t put anything on under this.”
Desire pulsed through me like a current of electricity.
I remained silent as she lithely tripped to the door and threw the lock. Turning around, she leaned against it, an innocent smile playing on her lips.
What I wouldn’t give for a roll of plastic wrap from the bakery to bind her to the furniture. And why didn’t I have a hook in the wall that I could suspend her from?
Making quick mental notes to be better equipped for the future, I stalked forward. “You didn’t follow instructions, vespina.”
“I didn’t?” she asked coyly.
I reached her, feeling the heat radiating from her skin. The tie dangled from my fingers, a silent promise. The silk whispered against my palm as I folded it in half, watching her eyes track the movement.
“Hands,” I commanded.
Penelope hesitated, that delicious defiance still flickering in her eyes. “And if I refuse?”
“Then I'll have to teach you what happens to wasps who defy their leader.”
“Don’t wasps have queens, not kings?” Slowly, she extended her wrists, a challenge glinting in her eyes. “And here I thought you were the king in this scenario.”
“Kings and queens rule together,” I murmured, wrapping the silk tie around her slender wrists with practiced precision. The crimson fabric contrasted beautifully against her pale skin, each loop tightening just enough to hold without hurting. “But make no mistake, in this room, I command.”
The silk slithered between her wrists as I secured the knot, testing it with a gentle tug. Her breath hitched, pupils dilating until those hazel eyes were nearly black with desire.
“Too tight?” I asked, voice rough with need.
She shook her head, brown braid cascading over bare shoulders. While she might be a vision of beauty, her words held a bite. “Not at all.”
With her bound hands before her I guided her away from the door, my palm pressing between her shoulder blades. She moved with me, her naked body radiating heat against my touch.
“This will only work if you communicate with me. You don’t like something, you tell me. I’ll stop.” I brushed my knuckles across her cheek. “Can you do that for me, vespina?”
Penelope nodded.
“Good.” I pushed on her shoulders. “On. Your. Knees.”
She didn’t have a choice. I was taking what we both wanted.
Penelope dropped, but she wasn’t done struggling.
The harder you fight, the more fun we’re going to have.
I moved in front of her, fisting that long braid and wrapping it around my hand. It kept her down.
“Undo my belt,” I instructed.
Penelope raised her bound hands, fingers working deftly at my belt. The metal clinked as she pulled it free, her eyes never leaving mine. There was something almost predatory in her gaze despite her position.
“Now the zipper,” I commanded, my voice dropping an octave.
She leaned forward, the warmth of her breath teasing through the fabric of my trousers. Her bound hands struggled with the button at first, then slowly dragged the zipper down, the sound unnaturally loud in the quiet office.
“Good girl,” I murmured, the praise causing her to pause momentarily, a shiver visibly running through her.
“I’m not your good girl,” she countered, her voice husky.
I tightened my grip on her braid, pulling just enough to force her head back, exposing the elegant column of her throat. “Today you are. Tomorrow, we’ll see.”
Rebellion sparked in her eyes.
Mio dio, she made my structured, carefully planned life far more interesting.
“Suck,” I ordered.
This was fire I played with.
My rock-hard dick sprang free after her fingers viciously tugged open the boxers. That feisty mouth opened, and her stinging tongue darted out. She was a venomous force, coiled and ready to strike as she licked from root to tip, igniting a fire that consumed me whole.
I tugged on her hair. “I said, suck.”
A growl rumbled through her.
The stakes in this game raised to a dangerous level.
Penelope’s bound hands trembled slightly as she leaned forward, her eyes locked onto mine with a hint of defiance. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to lick me again, leaving a glistening trail on my hardened length.
Before I could correct her, she swallowed me.
Fucking hell.
The wet heat of her mouth engulfed me, sending shockwaves of pleasure up my spine. My fingers tightened in her hair involuntarily, the silky strands wrapping around my knuckles as I fought to maintain control. The groan deep in her throat was the only indication she noticed the unforgiving grip. Her tongue swirled around me with expert precision, mapping every vein, every ridge, every sensitive spot as if she’d studied my body for years rather than minutes.
“Fuck,” I hissed through clenched teeth, watching as those perfect lips stretched around me.
My wife was perfect.
The sight alone was almost enough to undo me—Penelope on her knees, wrists bound by my tie, her naked body trembling slightly with each movement. But the sensation... Cristo santo, the sensation was beyond anything I’d experienced before. Each slow drag of her mouth sent lightning racing through my veins, pooling molten heat at the base of my spine.
Her tongue—that clever, wicked instrument—swirled around the head of my cock before she took me deeper. Those hazel eyes remained locked on mine, defiant even in submission.
I let her continue. It was a fight to maintain a hold over my body and not explode down her throat. I wanted to, and someday I would. But right now was an exercise in control and power.
If I was being honest, I wasn’t the one in charge. She might be bound on her knees, choking on my thick length, but it was clear who was dominating whom.
When I was confident she was well adjusted to me, I forced her head still.
Penelope squeaked in protest.
The sound was cut off when I began to pump into her.
“Do you know how perfect you look, vespina?” I rasped.
She glared at me.
“That’s it, eyes on me.” I drove into her hot mouth.
She took everything I offered and more. The slick heat of her mouth engulfed me like molten silk, drawing a guttural groan from deep in my chest.
The world outside my office—deals, enemies, family obligations—all evaporated into nothing as my universe narrowed to the exquisite pressure of her lips around my cock.
Penelope hollowed her cheeks, creating a vacuum of pleasure that sent lightning crackling up my spine. Each nerve ending ignited, a symphony of sensation that made my knees nearly buckle. The wet sounds of her mouth working me echoed in the quiet office, obscene and perfect.
“Cazzo,” I hissed between clenched teeth as her tongue found that sensitive spot just beneath the head.
Three more quick pumps, and then I pulled away. Her lips popped, and a strand of saliva trickled from her lips. She reached to catch it, smirking deviously.
I caught her bound wrists.
“No.” I reached to wipe her mouth. That was mine. She was mine.
Tugging her to her feet, I let her go and marched to the closet. My fingers fumbled with the buttons on my shirt. I tossed my suit jacket on the chair, where it slid to the floor. Inside the closet, I opened the garment bag with my spare change of clothing.
There was another tie.
But it was the backpack on the floor that caught my attention. The go-bag held necessary items if I was called suddenly to a fight. A feral grin spread across my lips as I took out the length of rope. There wasn’t any need to use my shirt to bind her.
I undressed in the closet, making sure I was completely naked—even the leather cord and metal talisman on my neck left my body for this. Only then did I walk back to Penelope.
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn’t fight me. The silk was smooth and luxurious, its deep red color a stark contrast against the suntanned skin of her face. As I wrapped it around her head, her bright hazel eyes disappeared, and she became a blindfolded figure at my mercy.
Drawing the length of rope down her torso produced a shiver of anticipation. The rough rustle of the cord echoed in the quiet room, creating a sense of tension and uncertainty. Her tight nipples tempted me to take a taste, but I snatched her hands and gave her a tug. The sound of her breathing quickened as she realized what was happening, and her small whimper made my heart race.
By the bookshelf, I tossed the rope high and managed to secure it on the top. While it wouldn’t hold her weight, it would create the desired effect.
“Give me your hands,” I commanded.
A little huff was the only way she fought back.
Grabbing them would have been all too easy, but when she offered them, a dark surge of triumph shot through me.
She learned quickly, my little wasp.
I secured her hands high above her head, forcing her to stand on her tiptoes. And then, the real work began. The rough pads of my fingers trailed down her torso in a long, smooth stroke. I turned her body, exposing her back to me, and repeated the gentle touch along her spine.
“Bound and at my mercy,” I crowed.
An expletive muttered under her breath.
But the words were muffled by the sound of my belt sliding through the loops. I folded and snapped the leather. The belt was cool against my fingers.
The next moment it burned against her ass in a swift snap.
Penelope yelped.
“I want you to count,” I breathed. “Five sins, Penelope. Five strokes for each.”
“Screw you!” she hissed.
I popped the belt against her again. “Count.”
“I think that’s two,” she spat. “But are you sure a country girl like me can handle something as important as math, lupo?”
The belt cracked across her skin—and then again with a deafening snap.
With each stroke on Penelope's gorgeous ass, it left behind a thin red line that quickly turned into a deep, angry red mark. The skin around the welt was raised and inflamed, creating a stark contrast against her paler backside.
“You sell yourself short, even as you struggle to climb higher.” I paused to massage her. “I want to see you soar, regina mia.”
“That was four—quit stalling and get it over with,” she fumed.
I moved my fingers between her legs. This raw act of discipline turned my beautiful hellion on. She was drenched, the evidence spreading down her thighs.
“Give me a confession, and I’ll stop,” I tempted her.
“Never.”
The belt sliced through the air with a loud 'whoosh!' before making a harsh connection with the skin. Three more strokes I placed with careful precision on her beautiful ass. Each snap echoed through the room, creating a beautiful mix of pain and fear. Each stroke was accompanied with a brush of my fingers against her clit.
On the last, I drove my fingers inside her.
“That was seven, you bastard—”
And then, a violent string of Italian exploded from her lips. She cursed me, damning me to hell, and praying that the devil fucked me hard.
I snatched her shoulders, dragging her around to face me. “Ah, there’s the first secret, vespina. My wife is fluent in Italian.”
Chest heaving and lips twisted in a snarl, she was the perfect picture. “Yes! Yes, I fucking speak Italian.”
The sight of her bound hands above her head, the crimson silk of my tie stark across her eyes, and the angry marks on her backside, was almost my undoing.