Bad Boy: Valetti Crime Family (A Bad Boy Mafia Romance) (5 page)

“Eat until you’re full.” He grabs another piece, and we continue like this. Each time he feeds me his fingers brush a little closer to my throbbing clit, until finally his deft fingers are massaging small circles over my clit. I’m soaked for him, and primed for him to fuck me. And I fucking hate it. He’s playing me and using my body against me.

He leans into my neck and whispers with his lips barely touching the shell of my ear, “I knew you’d like this. You just need to admit that you want it.”

I’m not sure what angers me more--that I’ve allowed myself to be such easy prey for him, or that he’s right. I want him to fuck me, and I fucking hate him for it. But I’m not going to let him reduce me to nothing but a whore.

I push away from him and kick the plate off his lap while I fall to the floor. The dish smashes on the ground as I fall backward.

He rises quickly, somewhat bracing my fall. The anger washing off of him is so strong that I scoot backward on my ass without even realizing at first. My heart races in my chest, and my blood rushes in my ears. Fear consumes me.

Making Anthony angry is something I shouldn’t do. I know this as a truth, but I pissed him off anyway. I was going to play along. Why couldn’t I just do what I needed to?

I expect him to hit me, or to grab me like he did earlier for my outburst. Inwardly I’m cursing myself for not just going along with this. But I can’t. I’m more than
that
.

I anticipate his aggression. He doesn’t get violent. Instead, he turns his back on me.

“I’m disappointed in you, kitten,” he says as he carefully picks up several pieces of thick porcelain. He’s slow to pick them up, and for a moment I imagine myself grabbing a single piece, the one closest to me. But I don’t. I’m frozen with fear. After a moment of him cleaning up the mess I made, he looks me in the eyes as he picks up the last shard.

He turns to the door with an expression of discontent and that’s when I realize he’s leaving me.

My racing heart tries to leap from my chest. I can’t be left here. I need to get out. “Please don’t leave me here!” I scream and beg. I didn’t want to, but I have to try. I don’t want him to leave me here alone. I can’t sit here with nothing. No plan, no hope, fucking nothing.

“I’m sorry, kitten,” he says as he turns his back on me. “Tonight training will begin. It’s best that you put this rebellion behind you. You won’t enjoy being punished.”

Tonight? How fucking long will I have to wait in this room alone?

“I have a life! Please just let me go!” I feel weak and hate what I’ve become.

“I know you do, kitten. And I would provide for you in every way you need.”

“I want
my
life back!” I don’t want to be his version of a pampered pet. I want my job and my friends. I worked hard to create this new life for myself, and I want it back. I don’t want it torn from me.

He turns back to me with anger sparking in his eyes. It's enough to make me retreat until my back hits the wall. He strides toward me with a dark aura surrounding him.

“You want an office? You want to go online so you can work? Do you want your books, kitten?” I stare at him, not knowing what to say.

“I told you to answer me when I ask you a question,” he says with barely contained anger.

“Yes. Yes, that’s what I want.” I answer him in a strangled voice I don’t recognize.

He smirks at me, and that expression is completely at odds with the aggression choking the air between us. “You would've had all of that, if only you'd behaved.” I stare at him with disbelief as he makes his way back to the door.

He’s lying. He must be. I can’t help but hope.

“Please. Just another chance.” I take a hesitant step forward as he punches the code into the keypad.

He turns to face me with sympathy in his eyes. “We’ll try again at dinner.” Before he leaves me alone again, he turns to face me. “I’m going easy on you right now, but remember this is only because it’s your first day and we haven’t discussed terms yet.” He looks at me expectantly as I wipe the angry tears from my eyes.

“I expect you to answer me,” he says with the hint of a threat in his voice. “You will look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

My eyes dart around as my breath catches in my throat. I don’t even remember what he said. My mouth parts, but words don’t come out.

He takes long, quick strides toward me, letting the door fall shut behind him. I cower and find my back up against the wall again. He stops inches away from me like last time, but this time he grips the nape of my neck and pulls me toward him.

“I want you so fucking badly.” His low voice sends a chill down my body. “I want to show you how good this is going to be.” His fingers tangle in my hair, and he makes a fist at the base of my head, forcing me to expose my neck to him.

He leans forward, pressing his body against mine and his large erection digs into my belly. Being held like this sends a need coursing through my body. Every nerve ending is on alert and ready to spark to life. I clench my thighs as my nipples harden.

He leaves an open-mouthed kiss on my neck. It's so gentle, and so at odds with everything else.

“You’ll learn to obey me, kitten, and you’ll fucking love it when you do.” His hand pushes between my legs and he cups my pussy. His lips brush against my ear as he whispers. “I will give you everything you need. Everything you want. But you need to submit to me.” His hot breath gently caressing my sensitive skin forces a moan from my lips. He takes my earlobe into his mouth and gently nips it. “You’re going to beg me to fuck you, kitten. I’ll wait for it. I’ll wait for you to beg me.”

With that, he leaves me. My body sags against the wall and the chill of the damp cell replaces his warmth. I take in a ragged breath and barely catch sight of him as he leaves me cold and alone. I watch the door close quickly behind him, like he couldn’t get out fast enough.

I close my eyes, hating that I’m so turned on by him. I shouldn’t be. All of this is wrong in every way. Even worse, I hate that I already crave his touch.

I
hear
the door shut with a loud click and lean back, reveling in how perfect she is. She’s caught up in her own mind and holding back, but she’s exactly how I dreamed she’d be.

It’s going to be so fucking good when she finally lets go. I need to break those walls down and I’m doing that as soon as fucking possible. Fuck patience. She needs a push. She’s desperate to get out of that room and I can’t blame her. Come tonight, if I don’t let her out, she’ll be sleeping on a hard as fuck floor. I don’t want that for her, and I don’t want her in that cell. But I don’t have a choice. She needs to learn.

The thought brings to mind the memory of her scraping her teeth against my finger. If I’m honest with myself, it was hot as hell. I love how brazen she is, but she knew what she was doing.

She had to be punished. There’s a lot of research on the psychology of motivation via punishment and reward. Reward is always better, but when punishment needs to happen it’s best if the severity of the punishment is in direct proportion to the offense. Ideally it should also be swift, taking place as soon as possible after the misdeed. If you merely give a slap on the wrist, the behavior is more than likely to occur again, and also more likely to be a worse transgression.

I needed that punishment to be aggressive to keep her from pushing. But I didn’t like that I had to do it. It’s better now that it’s over with. Hopefully things will continue to go as planned, and the next time she pushes it’ll be minimal. And that way I can get my hands on her ass and move this along to other forms of play.

My fingers twitch with the need to touch her again. I don’t know if she noticed how she rocked her cunt against my hand. I know she was hot and wet from what we did, and she should have been. There’s nothing wrong with being turned on by what happened. It’s natural.

I just need to break down the social constructs she has built in her head. She has to learn to give in to her needs and desires. She has to learn to trust that I’m gonna give her everything she could ever want. The life she’s built; she can have it. But I can add so much more. I can let her give in to her own dark desires and show her a world she’s only dreamed of. I’ll teach her that. Tonight I’ll give her a test, and if she obeys the one command I give her, I'll let her out of that room. That will be huge for us. I only hope she doesn’t disappoint me.

She’s too headstrong and preoccupied with right and wrong. She knows she wants this, but I don’t think a girl like her gives into desires. She’s strict in her regimen, and doesn’t reward herself much. I’ll have to ease her into enjoying this, one reward at a time.

I make my way to the dining room where I left my phone and cringe when I see I’ve missed messages. Three are from Vince. I put my password in and take a look. The first and most recent text is from Tommy, my brother, but also my partner in the hits.

Cassys have another for us.

Cassys are the Cassanos. Ever since we started taking on outside hits, they’ve been good customers. Apparently they get pissed off. A lot.

The next three are from Vince. It looks like he sent them within minutes of each other, and the first one arrived almost immediately after my last message to him.

They seem to be under a different impression.

They want a timeline.

We’re talking tonight.

Fuck. I don’t like any of the shit in those messages. I don’t really give a fuck what impression the Cassanos are under. I bought her freedom from them. If they changed their minds, that’s on them. I don’t have to do shit for them, and neither does Vince.

I finally text back,
I paid for this shipment.

What the fuck am I supposed to tell them?
he asks, and I can practically hear his anger.

The deal’s done.
I tell him simply.

I know we do a lot of business with them, but I don’t like where Vince’s head is at. He’s the Don and even though technically Tommy and I aren’t included in the
familia
shit, we’re not fooling anyone. He’s the boss, and we’re still untouchables. We’re still family and
familia
and nothing changes that. It also means I have to listen to the fuck. Usually I agree with him. But on this? No. I don’t fucking like the way he’s talking.

What do you need from me?
I ask after a moment.

I need a timeline.

I stare at the phone. I don’t know what to say. I never had one in mind. And I sure as fuck don’t plan on making one now.

I don’t have one. Your call.

I send the text, knowing full well that whatever deadline he gives me, I'm going to try to and extend it. The phone goes off, but I don’t look at it. I’ll figure this shit out later. Nothing is going to ruin this for me.

I put the phone down and leave it there, knowing damn well I’m not going to like anything he has to say about this. I need to get started on something to eat tonight and make sure her room is set up.

I don’t want to get my hopes up, but I have a good feeling that she’s going to pass this test. I fucking hope she does. She desperately needs to cum. My eyes fly to the door to the basement. Fuck! I didn’t tell her she wasn’t allowed to touch herself without my permission. Fuck me, I didn’t tell her anything.

She’s a smart girl though, and she’s read a lot of dirty books. She should know better.

She had better know better.

I
’m fucking rocking
like a crazy person. I could sit in the chair, but it’s tainted now. So instead I’m huddled in the corner rocking. It’s not because I’m crazy though. It’s because there isn’t a fucking thing to do, not a damn thing to do in this empty cell.

I’ve walked around every inch of this room. Even though it’s dark, the cell’s not too dirty. I should know, since I’ve searched everywhere for a second door, or crack, or opening. Anything. I bet he watched me; in the books, they always watch. I even expect some kind of punishment for it, but I had to do it. I had to try.

All the flashbacks keep coming forward, and I keep pushing them down. They make me weak. I can’t go back to that. He’s not one of them.

“
C
ome on
, little mouse,” Lorenzo says as he parks his car in front of the restaurant.

“I don’t want to.” I already told him I don’t want to, but he’s not listening.

He has his dick out and he’s pushing me to go down on him here, but there are people everywhere. At first when we met, I was looking for that thrill. But we kept getting caught by his friends, and now they give me weird looks and make jokes that I don’t like.

He moves faster than me, and it takes me by surprise. He fists my hair and yanks my head back. I scream out in pain and try to pry his hand off of me. “Stop, it hurts.” Tears prick my eyes. “It hurts!” I scream out.

“Dumb bitch,” he says under his breath. “You know what you got yourself into. You fucking want it this way.” My heart sinks in my chest. I
don’t
want it, and especially not like this.

“Suck it,” he says, releasing me while pushing my head forward. I look back at him with daggers in my eyes.

“Fuck you,” I sneer at him, and wipe my eyes. He barks out a laugh.

“Aw, little mouse. You don’t want to play?” I feel sick to my stomach. Things never used to be like this. When he's rough with me in bed now, it's different, too.

“I said no.” I hate that I have to tell him twice.

“Fine,” he says as he tucks himself back into his pants and I feel a small sense of relief.

“Come here, you know I didn’t mean it.” He leans across the console to give me a kiss and I hesitate, but I lean in anyway. Because I’m a fucking idiot. Because I thought I just needed to make the lines clearer. Like it was my fault.

T
hat was right
before I tried to leave him. I had no one else, and I was afraid to be alone. I was so desperate for his “love” that I stayed with that fucking creep far too long. Things only got worse after that. I remember the night I tried to sneak out and run away. Before I left, I looked down on his sleeping body and thought about slitting his throat. How awful of a person had I become where I thought I should kill him? Not fucking awful at all. That bastard deserved to die. But I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t lower myself to becoming a murderer, so instead I sneaked out through a window and hoped I could start over. Instead I fell right into a new world of hell.

I
hear
them laugh as Lorenzo backhands me again. This time I fall. I learned to make it look real.

When he was drunk that’s the game he played. How many hits until the mouse would fall? He liked his nickname for me even more after I saw what happened. He was daring me, taunting me to be a
rat
. If I stayed on the ground, he’d only kick me a few times. I learned to just stay curled on my side and wait for the beatings to be over, no matter how much he urged me to stand. He only made it worse if I obeyed him. Bruises gave way to broken bones, but by then, I had no way to leave. I was trapped and beaten regularly for his enjoyment. I barely escaped them. And I only managed because they were reckless. Their desires to cause me even more pain is what eventually gave me my out.

They came into the room they kept me in. It’d only been a few days of being trapped there, feeling helpless and weak, trying to recover from the beating he gave me. The three of them came into the room and left the door wide open as they stalked to my bed. I knew what they were going to do. I rock harder, remembering the fear. I fucking bolted. I just kept thinking,
Please don't let them catch me.

They can never catch me. Never. I had to do everything I could to escape that hell. But I had no one. Not a single soul to run to. My mother was everyone and everything to me. But she’d been dead for nearly a year. I ran to her grave and prayed for a sign. That’s when the cops showed up, sirens blaring. I thanked my mom every day.

I thought she’d saved me like she always did.

But they did catch me.

Only they didn’t come after me directly like I thought they would. They sent someone else.

I have no clue how long it’s been. I don’t know what he’s doing. Or what this training is going to be like when he gets back. I have absolutely no control in any of it either, and I don’t like it. I tug at the hem of my nightgown, wishing it were longer so I could cover myself up more. My knees are drawn up to my chest, and I rest my head on them as I consider my next step.

I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what my options are. He said he’d give me my life and everything I needed. I want to believe that’s true, but what's the catch? I know his intentions aren’t pure. And I’m certain his terms aren’t negotiable.

I’m eager to hear what he has to say though. I want to know what I’ve gotten myself into. That way I can figure out how to get the fuck out of here.

My back is killing me, so I keep up my rocking. It feels better than just sitting still for however fucking long it’s been. I’d get up and stretch or do yoga, but I don't want to be standing when he walks in. I want to be ready.

Well, as ready as I can be.

I close my eyes and remember his words. An office, my books. How much does he know about me? He’s been watching me, obviously. I wonder if there were signs I missed. Red flags I should have seen, but didn’t.

The only time I ever felt that things were off was last night. That was the only chance I had. I should have gotten into my car and driven away. I should have listened to my gut.

But I didn’t.

I’ve never felt so fucking helpless. Not when I was with Lorenzo. Not when I was taken by those fucking Cassanos. Not even when I went to the police and they told me I’d have to leave my old life behind forever. Never. Because there was always hope. But now, I only have his word. And I don’t trust him.

For all I know, he has a bet going with someone. How long would it take him to get into my pants willingly? And then boom. He’ll kill me. Or he’ll let someone else in here to have a go at me. How the fuck would I know? I don’t know shit. And it’s not like he’s offering up any information. He’s just playing this game with me.

In all the books I’ve read, there’s been some sort of contract, or list. Terms. Like he said before.

That always happens first.

But he’s playing with me. Testing me. And as far as I’m concerned, he’s winning.

My body betrayed me, and I gave into the weakness. I was practically ready to cum on his lap. If he’d flipped me over and put his mouth on my clit rather than whispering in my ear, shit. I don’t know what I would have done. I was so weak. So desperate.

It’s pathetic.
I’m
pathetic.

But what real choice do I have? I can fight his game, or I can play along. I can stay here and let him toy with me, or I can use him to get out of here.

Use him.

I like that idea. It almost makes the desire for him to touch me feel justified. That giving in and caving to his touch is alright. I’m merely playing into his hand because it’s what I have to do.

As if hearing my thoughts, Anthony opens the door.

My breath stills in my lungs as the loud click echoes off the walls.

I make a promise to myself. I’ll do whatever I have to do to get the fuck out of this room. I need to see if I can trust his word at least.

Just as I make that promise to myself, I see what he’s pulling behind him. It’s a large bench with leather shackles. Fuck! Tears prick my eyes.

I bury my head in my knees and just fucking cry. He’s going to chain me to the bench. He’s going to fuck me.

A wretched sob heaves through my chest.

I shake my head, and that’s when I hear his footsteps. But I don’t back away. I have no options. What choice do I have?