36. VIN
VIN
She’s still talking.
I set her down, and she immediately takes a step back, smoothing her dress. Her voice is a low hiss, measured but barely controlled.
“This is completely inappropriate, Vin. You need to consider what message this sends to everyone out there, your father’s associates, the Irish, people who are watching everything you do today—”
I grip the back of her neck, and cover her mouth with my hand. She goes still.
“I will listen to everything you have to say when I’m done fucking you, princess,” I say against her ear, quiet and flat.
She pulls at my wrist with both hands, eyes blazing, and mumble screams something that sounds like “let me go.”
I don’t.
“Until then, I’m going to follow through on my promise.” She looks confused and I chuckle. “I told you you’d regret it if you didn’t stop talking.”
I move my hand and she sucks in a breath, already opening her mouth again. I slide the folded pocket square out my jacket breast pocket, smirking to think of her picking it out not knowing what I’d use it for. I shove it in her mouth before she can speak.
Her eyes go wide.
“You need to be reminded who you belong to, Sophia.”
She makes a sound into the gag, half outrage and half frustration, and I walk her backward until the back of her thighs hit the edge of a heavy oak table.
She falls back on the table, catching herself with her hands.
Before she can stand, I knock her hands out from under her, forcing her to lie back on the table, and flip her over.
She squeals but I know her. She’s fucking loving every minute of this. I flick the hem of her dress up over her ass and groan. She’s wearing some of the lingerie I sent over, including a thong. She never wears thongs and her ass is a fucking shrine to be worshiped in its lacy frame.
I lean down and sink my teeth into her flesh, biting down until she screams into her gag. When I know there are marks deep enough to last for days, I stand and unbuckle my belt.
“Your favorite sound, princess.” I yank the leather belt out of the belt loops with a whirring sound that has her whimpering. “Brace yourself. You get four strikes for disobeying me.”
The belt lands across her flesh leaving a red mark almost as dark as her lace thong. I suck in a breath. Fuck, I missed this.
I land the belt on her a second time, and she squeaks, trying to look at me over her shoulder. “Good girl. Eyes on me.”
The belt hits her a third time and she jumps. Chewing on her gag, her eyes watering, she waits for the final strike. I grin.
“You want this, Sophia?” She doesn’t move at first but finally, almost imperceptibly, she gives me the tiniest nod. “Show me. Show me how bad you want it.”
She closes her eyes a minute, then shifts her feet wider apart, spreading her legs. I let out a low whistle. “Your pussy is so wet, you’ve soaked your little thong, princess. You’ve definitely earned this.”
I land the belt on her ass a final time, the white marks turning red and puffing into welts. Her knees falter, no longer holding her up.
Grabbing her hands, I lace my fingers through hers and pin her hands behind her back. She writhes beneath me as my phone buzzes in my jacket pocket.
“Here’s what’s going to happen,” I say quietly, unzipping and pulling out my cock then bending over her back so she can hear only me. “The only thing I want to hear from you is ‘Yes, Sir.’ That’s it. That’s all you’re allowed. Nod if you understand me.”
She pauses, and I can see her working through her options. Then, slowly, she nods.
“That’s my little cumslut.”
I run the flat of my palm up the inside of her thigh, and she shudders as I step between her legs, my cock hard against her. She tries to squeeze her legs shut and I let go of my cock to smack her thigh.
“No. Open.”
She jolts against me, eyes fiery.
“Keep them open,” I growl.
Her fingernails dig into my hand, as I pin her thighs open with my legs. Yanking off my tie, I bind her wrists together then secure them to the iron drawer pull on the back of the table.
I pause to admire her. Arms tied behind her back, welted ass on display in that red thong, her dress pushed halfway up her back, her hair coming loose around her face.
I’m standing between her thick thighs spread wide, the crotch of her panties damp and clinging to her wet pussy. Fuck, she looks so good.
I drop to my knees, and drag my fingertips lightly up her inner thighs to those wet silky panties. Hooking my fingers in the band, I drag them down and off in one movement then move close enough to breathe her in without touching her glistening pussy.
She makes a broken sound above me. This time it’s not outrage.
“Be still.” My voice is gravel. “Don’t move.”
I press my mouth to the inside of her thigh and feel her whole body shudder.
“Vin.” It’s muffled but unmistakable, couched in a moan. I snake my hand up over her torso and yank out the gag.
Sinking back down, I drag the tip of my tongue up her wet slit and pause at her clit. “Yes, princess?”
Her voice comes in breathless gasps. “This is only for today. This doesn’t mean anything. Just for today—”
I put my mouth on her and she arches her back so hard, rising up off the table.
She’s fighting me. I can feel it. With every little lick, every nip of her soft skin, she fights for control, to stay still, to be quiet. But her pussy tells me the truth, dripping all over me. I smile licking up every drop slowly.
“Just one—”
I close my mouth over her, and she cuts off mid-sentence with a sound that echoes off the stone walls.
“It’s just one day,” she tries again, desperate now, like the words are a life raft, her hips rolling toward me in spite of herself.
I flatten my tongue and stay there. Her breathing shudders and her thighs tremble as she tries to brace herself against the table. When it doesn’t work, I press her legs as wide as possible, spread her open and eat her pussy until I feel her stiffen, on the edge of coming.
Then I stop and pull back, she waits, her breathing shallow. When I don’t move, don’t touch her, her eyes fly open and she glare sat me over her shoulder.
“What the heck, Vin?”
I grin. “You want to come, princess?”
“Vin! What are you doing?” She bangs her head softly against the table, groaning.
“It’s called orgasm denial. If you want to come, you’re going to have to beg.”
She slams the side of her face back onto the table and glares at the far wall. “I will absolutely not—“
I bury my face in her pussy, shoving my tongue into her tight opening, fucking her with my tongue hard and fast. She screams, writing against me, and just when she’s about to come, I stop.
“VIN!” She screams my name in frustration and squeezes her thighs around my head, trying to force me back.
I just laugh. “If you want to come—”
“Vin, please! Please! PLEASE!”
“Please what?”
“Fuck me! PLEASE! Please let me come!”
I slam my mouth into her pussy, using one thumb to rub her clit in a pounding rhythm as I eat her.
Then she tenses, tightens in a way she rarely does. Her whole body seizes.
“Vin—” Her voice is high, strangulated, shocked. “Vin, wait—”
I don’t wait.
She comes so hard it wrecks her. It wrecks both of us. Her voice cracks open, her thighs shake, and she squirts against my mouth, sudden and warm. My eyes open wide and I’m relentless on her clit, fucking her through it, her cum wetting her thighs.
When she stills, she makes a sound of absolute mortified shock that I will remember for the rest of my life. I lick her clean and stand, breathing hard.
I untie her hands and turn her over. She stares up at me, undone, flushed from her throat to her hairline, her chest heaving. Her whole body is limp.
“What—” she starts.
“I know,” I say.
“That was—”
“I know.”
Her chest rises and falls. “How do you do that?”
My phone buzzes again, but I take my cock in my hand and push inside her. Her whole body instantly starts to shake, and I grab her wrists, smoothing my thumbs over the creases where the tie bit into her skin, and shush her softly.
She scrabbles her fingers over my face, into my hair, down my back, with no strength to hold onto me.
“I’m going to make that happen every single time I fuck you for the rest of your life.” I tell her, pounding into her pussy. “Every time, Sophia. That’s a promise.”
“This is not—” She closes her eyes then opens them. “I am not— Vin, I told you I am done.”
“You keep saying that.” I growl. FUCK, she feels so good. “Why the fuck do you keep saying that?”
“Because I mean it.”
I shift up changing my angle, hitting that spot deep inside her that turns her inside out and her eyes roll back in her head as she moans.
“Keep talking, princess.” I pull out and push inside her in one long stroke and she gasps, her head dropping back, her whole body arching off the console.
“Tell me all about how you’re not mine.” I press my forehead to her temple and start to move, slow and deep, my mouth at her ear. “Your padrone is listening.”
She grips my shoulders with both hands as I fuck her and pulls me closer.
“Padrone,” she breathes.
There it is.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her flush against me, not breaking my rhythm, my free hand moving up into her hair, tilting her head back so I can see her face. Her eyes are half closed, glassy, her mouth slightly open, her nails scraping down the back of my jacket.
“Padrone,” she says again.
“Yes, regina mia,” I say against her throat.
I pull her tight against me and drop my voice to a murmur, low and steady. I know what my queen needs. “I’ve got you, Sophie. Your padrone is right here. Come for me. I’ve got you, princess. Squirt all over my cock. That’s it. Grip me with that wet pussy. I’ve got you.”
She buries her face in my neck. Her whole body tightens around me, and her hands fist into my jacket.
And she comes, not like the first time, loud and violent, but deep and slow.
Her voice breaks against my collar, her nails rake up my back, her legs wrap around me and pull me in like she intends to keep me there.
Her tight pussy pulsing around my cock shoves me over the edge, and I press my face into her hair as I come hard inside her.
We stay there like that; I don’t know how long. Long enough for our breathing to level. Long enough for the sounds from outside the room to reassemble into something recognizable: voices, the sounds of movement, the low register of the string quartet.
She is still wrapped around me, her face in my neck, her fingers loosely gripping my jacket. Her hair is completely undone now, loose and flowing, and I stroke it back from her face with one hand while I hold her with the other.
“I’ve got you,” I say quietly. “I love you, Sophie.”
She goes absolutely still. Then she lifts her head from my neck and looks at me, her eyes wet.
“What did you say?”
I hold her gaze. “You heard me.”
Anger crosses her face.
“No.” Her voice goes sharp. She pulls back, her hands going to her dress, her hair. “No. Don’t do that. Don’t play these mind games with me, don’t use that when I’m—”
“It’s not a game.”
“—when I’m already—” She stops herself and shakes her head, jaw tightening. “You do not get to say that to me when— You do not get to make the rules, Vincenzo. You don’t call the shots here. I told you I was done and I meant it and you can’t just— FRIG.”
I stand, and she immediately slides off the table, barely able to get her footing, still shaking. She smooths her dress as best she can, and I tuck myself in and zip up, watching her.
She snatches her panties off the floor and shakes them at me. “Stay away from me.”
She suddenly goes pale, her gaze over my shoulder. I turn around. Gavin MacCuinn is standing in the doorway. I didn’t see that fucker come in with the Ronan and the rest of the Irish. When the fuck did he get here?
He takes in the room: Sophie’s messy hair, my tie and pocket square on the floor, my wrinkled jacket where Sophie grabbed it.
I watch him decipher the scene, and I smirk, adjusting my jacket. That’s right, bitch. She’s not yours. She’s fucking mine.
“I’m sorry to interrupt.” His voice is even. “Everyone is wondering where you are, Vin. Just thought you should know.”
Sophie won’t look at me as she tries to step around me to get to the door, to get to Gavin. I block her path and grip her jaw with two fingers, turning her face up toward mine.
“You can be as mad as you want,” I say. “But this is happening, Sophia.”
“No, Vin, it’s really not.”
I kiss her. She jerks back and smacks me across the face. I don’t move. I don’t flinch. And then I grin.
Fury flashes in her eyes.
Gavin shifts in the doorway. “Um, maybe I should leave you two—”
“Yes,” I say.
“No.” Sophie smooths her hair back, squares her shoulders, and turns to him with a smile. “Gavin. Would you walk with me? I need some air.”
He holds out his arm, and she takes it.
She’s going to pay for that later.
Out in the pavilion, Tommy and Matti accost me but I blow them off. I’m too busy tracking Gavin and Sophie, arm in arm, walking across the landscaped gardens through the large wall of windows.
Sophie’s father is standing in front of one of those windows on the far side of the room, slightly apart from the groups around him. That’s the man I want to see.
He straightens when he sees me coming.
“Vincenzo.” He’s polite but there is both worry and confusion in his voice.
“Mr. Bellamorte.” I extend my hand and he takes it. “Thank you again for coming. I know it wasn’t easy for you to be here.”
“Yes, of course.” He waits for me to speak.
“I appreciate it.” I pause, clearing my throat. Fuck, this is harder than I thought it would be. “There’s something I’d like to ask you, sir, if you have a moment.”
He nods and waits.
“I don’t know how to say it other than to just say it.
I’m in love with your daughter. I’ve been in love with her for longer than I’ve admitted to myself or anyone else.
Even to her. She’s the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known and I don’t say that lightly.
” I keep his gaze. “I would like your permission to ask for her hand.”
He is quiet for a long moment. Then he looks past my shoulder. I follow his gaze out the tall pavilion windows.
Outside on the winter terrace, Gavin has his arm around Sophie’s shoulders. She is turned toward him, speaking, and he is listening carefully.
Her father looks back at me.
“Are you sure, son,” he says quietly, “that this is what she wants?”
I open my mouth to answer him.
And everything goes black.