Chapter 49
The next month passed in a blur of funeral arrangements, business meetings, and establishing my authority.
My father's body was laid to rest with all the pomp and ceremony befitting a Don, though few genuine tears were shed.
I stood stoic at the graveside, Elin's hand in mine, as the priest delivered final rites over the man who had tormented us both.
"Ashes to ashes," the priest intoned, making the sign of the cross.
"Dust to dust," I whispered, feeling nothing but relief as the first shovelful of dirt hit the casket.
A few weeks later, I walked through the newly renovated townhouse I'd purchased for Rhea, my security team having already swept the premises three times.
"This is ridiculous, Gav," Rhea said, rolling her eyes as I demonstrated the panic room hidden behind her closet. "I don't need all this."
"Humor me," I insisted, showing her how to activate the alarm system. “You are the Don’s sister. A target is still on your back, and I want you protected. If you ever need it, the new identity is locked away for you in the safe.”
She sighed but nodded, running her hand along the sleek countertop of her new kitchen. "It is beautiful. Thank you."
"You'll be safe here," I promised, pulling her into a hug. "When you are ready, you can decide what you want to do next. Stay or go—it's your choice now."
Her smile was tentative but genuine. "A choice. Freedom. What a concept."
Three days later, I sat in my newly renovated office at the compound, reviewing reports from our businesses.
True to our word, Elin and I had begun the process of cleaning up the Azzaro operations, steering toward legitimate enterprises while maintaining just enough of the old ways to keep our power intact.
The door opened without a knock, and I looked up to see Elin entering, dressed in one of the sleek black outfit she wore for her professional clients. My body immediately responded to the sight of her in domme mode, even after hours of tedious meetings.
"Successful session?" I asked, setting aside my papers.
"Very." She closed the door behind her, the lock engaging with a definitive click. "My client was quite . . . responsive."
Jealousy flared briefly before I tamped it down. We'd agreed she would maintain her professional practice—her independence was part of what made her who she was.
"And now?" I asked, my voice dropping lower as she approached my desk.
"Now I find myself with some lingering energy to expend." She ran her fingertip along the edge of my desk. "And a Pretty Boy who's been working too hard."
I swallowed, heat pooling low in my belly. "I have reports to finish."
"They can wait." Her voice took on the commanding tone that never failed to make my cock stiffen. "Stand up."
I obeyed instantly, rising from my chair as she circled the desk. She looked me over with a critical eye, taking in my tense shoulders and the exhaustion I couldn't quite hide.
"Bedroom. Now." She turned and walked toward the door connecting my office to our private quarters, not looking back to see if I’d followed.
I did, of course. I always would.
Our bedroom had been transformed from my father's austere space into something that reflected us both—luxurious but with darker undertones, the massive four-poster bed equipped with discreet attachment points for restraints.
Elin turned to face me as we entered, her expression fully in Goddess mode. "Strip. Everything off."
My fingers moved to my tie, loosening it with practiced ease. "Yes, Goddess."
She watched as I removed each article of clothing, her gaze appreciative but calculating.
When I stood naked before her, she circled me slowly, trailing her fingertips across my shoulders, down my spine, around to my abdomen.
Then with a single nail, she ran her finger up my chest, and hooked it in the heavier chain and lock that now set around my neck.
"You've been neglecting yourself," she observed, noting the tension in my muscles. "Too busy being Don Azzaro to remember who you belong to."
"I haven't forgotten," I whispered, my cock already hard and aching under her scrutiny.
"Haven't you?" Her hand moved lower, ghosting over my erection without quite touching it. "When was the last time you asked permission to touch yourself?"
I swallowed hard. "Five days ago, Goddess."
"And have you touched yourself since then?"
"No, Goddess."
Her smile was pleased but predatory. "Good boy. On the bed, on your back, arms above your head."
I moved to obey, stretching out on the cool burlap-colored duvet, positioning my arms as instructed. Elin opened the bedside drawer, removing leather cuffs that she secured around my wrists, attaching them to the hidden anchors in the headboard.
"You've been carrying so much weight," she murmured, running her hands down my chest. "Bearing so much responsibility."
"It's my duty," I replied, watching as she began to undress, revealing her body inch by tantalizing inch.
"Yes, but even Don Azzaro needs release." She stood naked beside the bed, all curves and strength. "Even a powerful man needs someone to surrender to."
My breath caught as she climbed onto the bed, straddling my thighs. "I need you, Goddess."
"I know, Pretty Boy." Her hands splayed across my chest, nails digging in just enough to leave marks. "And I'm going to take care of you. But first, I think you need a reminder of who holds your leash."
She leaned forward, her lips finding my throat, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. I moaned, tugging instinctively at the restraints.
"Who do you belong to?" she demanded, her voice a silken command against my ear.
"You, Goddess." I gasped as her hand wrapped around my cock, giving it one firm stroke. "Only you."
"That's right." She sat up, still holding me in her grip. "And what happens when you forget that?"
"I'm punished," I whispered, anticipation coiling tight in my gut.
Her smile widened. "Precisely."
She released me, leaving my cock throbbing with need as she reached for something else in the drawer. When she turned back, she held a blindfold in one hand and a riding crop in the other.
"You've been making decisions all week," she said, sliding the blindfold over my eyes, plunging me into darkness. "Giving orders. Being obeyed. Now it's time to remember what it feels like to surrender control."
The first strike of the crop against my inner thigh made me jerk in surprise, the sting sharp but not painful. The second landed on my other thigh, slightly harder.
"Count," she ordered.
"One. Two," I began, focusing on the sensations as she continued, alternating between gentle taps and harder strikes that left my skin tingling.
By the time we reached ten, my body was humming with arousal, each strike sending jolts of pleasure straight to my cock. I was so hard it almost hurt, pre-cum leaking onto my stomach.
"Good boy," she praised, her hand soothing over the marks she'd left. "You take punishment so beautifully."
I felt the bed shift as she moved, then gasped as her mouth closed around my cock without warning. The wet heat of her tongue swirling around the head had me arching off the bed, straining against the cuffs.
"Please." I moaned as she took me deeper, her throat relaxing to accommodate my length.
She pulled off with an obscene pop. "Please what?"
"Please don't stop," I begged, beyond pride now, needing only the release she could give me.
"I won't," she promised, her voice husky with her own desire. "But I will make you wait."
I felt her shift again, then the warmth of her body as she straddled my face. "Show me how much you want me, Pretty Boy."
I eagerly lifted my head, finding her wet heat with my mouth. She moaned as my tongue slid through her pussy, circling her clit before dipping inside. The taste of her, the scent of her arousal, made my cock throb with need.
"That's it." She gasped, grinding against my face as I devoured her. "Just like that."
I lost myself in pleasuring her, using everything I knew she liked—firm pressure on her clit, the occasional gentle scrape of teeth, my tongue thrusting into her in a rhythm that matched the rocking of her hips.
Her thighs began to tremble around my head, her breathing growing ragged. "Make me come," she commanded, her voice breaking slightly.
I redoubled my efforts, sucking her clit between my lips as she cried out, her body clenching as she came, her release flooding my mouth.
Before her orgasm had fully subsided, she moved down my body, positioning herself over my aching cock. In one smooth motion, she sank down, taking me completely inside her still-pulsing heat.
"Fuck," I groaned, the sensation almost too intense after being so freaking busy for so long.
"Look at me," she ordered, removing the blindfold so I could see her above me, flushed and glorious in her pleasure.
She rode me with purpose, her pace relentless, her hands braced on my chest for leverage. I strained against the cuffs, desperate to touch her, to hold her hips as she moved.
"You don't come until I say," she reminded me, her eyes locked with mine. "Not until your Goddess gives you permission."
I nodded, focusing on holding back despite the exquisite pressure building inside me. She leaned down, capturing my mouth in a kiss that tasted of her own release, of power and submission and the unique chemistry that had always existed between us.
"You're mine," she whispered against my lips, her movements becoming more erratic as she chased her second climax. "My Don. My Pretty Boy."
"Yours," I agreed, the word a prayer and a promise. "Always yours."
She sat up, her back arching as she ground down harder. "Come with me," she commanded, her inner walls beginning to flutter around me. "Now, Pretty Boy. Come for your Goddess."
The sound of my name on her lips, the permission I'd been waiting for, shattered my control. I thrust up into her as much as my restraints would let me.