Patrick: A Mafia Love Story by Kit Tunstall, R.E. Saxton Page A

She lost count of how many times he stroked the belt across her ass, too caught up in arousal and need to worry about trivial things like counting.
    She was vaguely aware of his breath growing heavier, his exhales more ragged, but he never lost control. Each lick of the belt hit with exactly the same amount of force as the one before it, and she was surprised at herself to feel the sting of disappointment when the blows stopped, and the buckle made a clanging sound as it hit the floor.
    “Is that all?” Was that really her voice, so thick and full of passion, coarse with need that she had barely been able to keep from screaming aloud, demanding release?
    “Yes.” He walked away from her, and she remained lying still, uncertain if she should move. Was he going to leave her sexually frustrated as part of her punishment? That seemed far more cruel than the belt he had taken to her butt. She whimpered in her distress, relieved to hear him approaching a moment later, his bare feet padding softly across the hardwood floor.
    “That is a beautiful sight.” The flash of a camera startled her, but she didn’t utter a protest. What was the point? He probably wouldn’t listen, and it didn’t matter. Her face wasn’t in the photo. “I want you to see how gorgeous you little red ass is, striped with my belt. Next time, I’ll use my hand. I love the sight of white flesh contrasting with a red handprint.”
    “There won’t be a next time, because I won’t lie again.” She couldn’t believe it, but a dart of disappointment shot through her as she uttered the words. Did she seriously want him to spank her? The tightening in her pussy told her yes, she did. She craved it as a sex game, but not as discipline from her fiancé. That thought still didn’t sit well with her.
    She let out a gasp of surprise a second later when something smooth and silky fell across her ass. She stiffened in surprise. “What’s that?”
    “Lotion.” He smoothed it over her taut cheeks, soothing the reddened areas with gentle caresses. “It should help minimize bruising, if I hit you hard enough to leave more than a fading red mark.”
    She closed her eyes, startled by the realization that she had almost told him she wanted to bruise. She wanted to see the proof remaining tomorrow of what he had done tonight. It was an insane reaction, but she couldn’t deny it made her even more aroused to think of him marring her skin.
    She didn’t want him to actually hurt her in a serious way, but his idea of discipline was sexy and fun, and it touched a side of her she had not known existed until this very night. The side of her that longed for dark and dangerous, probably the part of her that had been drawn to Patrick to start with and wouldn’t be dissuaded by the knowledge he was a mafia man.
    She stiffened when his thumb slipped between her cheeks, probing at the taut rosette there. “I’ve never done that, Patrick.”
    He chuckled softly. “I didn’t think you had. I know it’s somewhat fashionable for young ladies who are saving themselves to offer up their black cherry instead, but I just couldn’t see my girl doing something like that.” His thumb pressed insistently at the resistant ring of muscle, sliding deeper inside her when it yielded. “At least, not with anyone but me.”
    She shook her head against the pillow before using it to muffle a moan as his thumb wiggled inside her. “I’m not going to like it.”
    He laughed again. “That’s what you said about spanking.” No further clarification was needed when he easily slipped two fingers inside her slick folds.
    She writhed under the dual attention of his fingers inside her slit, coupled with the thumb in her backside. He was thrusting them together in concert, occasionally tightening or squeezing his hand in a way that sent her jumping off the bed each time he did it. Her nerve endings buzzed with intense pleasure, and she could feel an orgasm approaching as he continued to