13. Fallon #2
He stays quiet for a moment, continuing to stroke my arms, his cock still pressing into my ass.
It’s a struggle not to squirm to get some friction because I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t take much for me to come right here, right now.
This man has had me turned on since the first moment he touched me to take the knife out of my hands.
It doesn’t matter that I’ve touched myself numerous times while fantasizing about him; it hasn’t been enough.
“I’ll never force you, princess. Having this type of dynamic has to be consensual to work, but once we’re in one, I will force certain things.
But you’ll always have a safeword to use if you need to.
You would ultimately always hold the power, but until you use your safeword, I’m in charge. You obey Daddy, or you get punished.”
I’m starting to wonder whether there’s something wrong with me because the idea of being spanked by Luciano turns me on more than it scares me.
“Can I think about it?” I ask.
“Yes. But I’m not going away while you do.”
Of course he’s not. Luciano is a man who is used to getting what he wants.
“I know nothing about you except that you’re in the mafia,” I tell him.
He pulls me in so we’re both leaning back on the couch, his heartbeat thrumming in my ear. “What do you want to know? You can ask me anything, but just know I will never lie to you, so only ask things you truly want the answer to.”
“Do you kill people?”
“Sometimes,” he answers without hesitation. “Not as much as I did when I was younger and still working my way up the ranks. Now the men under me usually handle things like that unless it’s personal.”
I close my eyes and try to figure out whether it bothers me that he just admitted that, but for some reason, it doesn’t.
Sometimes people truly deserve to die. I’d imagine there’s a lot of criminals involved with the mafia who might be really, really bad people.
Hell, it’s not like I haven’t wished death upon people over my lifetime.
I used to pray that every man my mom ever brought home would die because they were all pieces of shit. Just like Joshua.
“Do they deserve it?”
“Yes. I don’t kill people just because. There’s always a good reason behind it; they deserve what they get. I’m not a merciful man if someone crosses me.”
What the hell is wrong with me? Why does that turn me on? Jesus, I need therapy.
“Why don’t you have a girlfriend?”
Luciano kisses the top of my head. “Because I’ve never met a woman who has told me to fuck off like you have.”
I laugh softly, my hand resting on his chest, soaking in his warmth. “I didn’t know you were in the mafia, though.”
“Yeah, but I’m pretty sure you’ll still tell me to fuck off from time to time, despite knowing who I am.”
“When you’ve been hit by enough men in your life, you stop fearing them, no matter who they are.”
Every muscle in Luciano’s body tenses, and it suddenly feels as though a dark cloud moves in over us. “Who the fuck put their hands on you?” he asks.
The coldness in his voice sends a shiver throughout my body. “It doesn’t matter. They are in the past. My point is that I’m not afraid of you. I stopped being afraid of things a long time ago.”
“Names, Fallon. I want names. Right. Fucking. Now.”
I move to sit up so I can look at him, but when I do, I regret it because every bit of tenderness I saw in him a few minutes ago has been replaced with a dangerous expression.
“Why? It was a long time ago. I don’t even know whether they’re alive any longer.”
I hope they aren’t. They don’t deserve to be. I don’t know how, but my mother always seemed to find the shittiest men out there and bring them home. Some were super nice in the beginning, just like Joshua was, and then they showed their true colors.
I get the feeling Luciano is putting all of his red flags right out in the open for me, and I don’t hate them. The way he’s protective about something that happened so long ago is comforting to me. I don’t know why he cares, but it makes me want to hug him.
“Putting hands on a woman or child is never okay, princess. That’s something I don’t let slide. I don’t give a fuck who they are, it’s not acceptable. Were they men your mom was involved with?” His eyes darken. “Did Joshua hurt you?”
“Guys my mom would drag home from who knows where.” I shrug and then smirk at Luciano. “Joshua never hit me. I would have beat his ass with a baseball bat instead of going after his car if he had.”
That makes him smile, but only a little as he stares at me. “That’s my girl. And that’s what I expect you to do if anyone tries to put their hands on you again.”
My eyes start to burn, so I lower myself back to his chest because the last thing I want is for Luciano to see me start crying over him being sweet.
What the hell is wrong with me? I never cry. Yet ever since this man walked into my life, I can feel my floodgates slowly collapsing and threatening to burst.
“I’m still waiting on names, Fallon. And I will stay here all night if I have to until you give them to me.”
Letting out a deep sigh, I squeeze my eyes shut and think back to my childhood and all the men who hurt me. There are so many that I can’t remember them all.
Slowly, I list off name after name of each man who ever hit me.
My first stepfather had gotten angry because I had grabbed the last dinner roll when I was barely in kindergarten.
And then when I was barely a teenager, my next stepdad was pissed because I got hair dye on the bathroom sink and it stained the porcelain temporarily.
Finally, I tell Luciano about the last one when I was sixteen, about the guy my mom was dating who tried to rape me, but I fought him off and ran.
When I knew my mom would be home, I came back.
Before I went to her, I found an extension cord and plugged in a toaster, then tossed it into the shower with the guy.
After that, I ran downstairs to my mom and told her about what he did, but she said she didn’t believe me and she kicked me out onto the streets right then. As soon as I finish, a sob breaks free.
Luciano’s arms wrap around me tightly, and without thinking, I bury my face into his chest, the dam finally breaking. Tears run down my face, soaking his expensive shirt, but he doesn’t seem to care as he holds me.
“I got you, princess. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again,” he whispers. “You’re safe, baby girl. Daddy’s got you.”