Page 21 of Sacred Blood

“That’s my good girl, don’t waste a single drop.”

When he released me, I fell back on the bed exhausted, gazing up at him with lidded eyes. “I didn’t know I could do that.”

Tano lay down on the bed and tucked me into his side. “What didn’t you know you could do?”

I closed my eyes, basking in the sensation of his hand as he gently rubbed my scalp. Pure bliss. “I’ve never given a blow job before and it was fun, I liked it.”

His other hand reached down, squeezing my ass possessively, causing me to yelp. “You will only give them to me Gabriella, do you understand? No other dicks in this throat.” He wrapped his hand around my nape and gripped it tightly. “This belongs to me.”

“Got it, the throat is off limits and for your cock only,” I promised carelessly. I’d play this out and see where he was taking it, only because there was no point in denying my attraction for him, but I wouldn’t let another mafia man tell me how to live.

His hand released my ass cheek and slid up my mini skirt. “Not just your smart mouth, but this too.” He parted my slick folds with his finger and sunk inside my heat, murmuring, “So wet for me, piccina. This sweet little kitty is mine and purrs only for her master.”

Damn, his dirty words were driving me all kinds of crazy. “Yes, Sir.” And where the hell were those coming from? I’d never called anyone Sir, willingly.

I slid my hand down and covered his, so he was palming my pussy. He slid another finger to the opening of my anus and sunk to the last knuckle.

“Ooh. Yesss!” I hissed, but if this kitty could purr, she would be rumbling away at the delicious sensations being delivered by his strong fingers as they double penetrated, hitting all the right places. His other hand slid around my ribs and gripped a nipple in his fingertips. A long moan issued from me as I soaked in the pain and pleasure from my tortured nub, reveling in how he laid claim to every part of my body.

“You don’t touch what’s mine, cattiva ragazza, or let anyone else, are we clear?”

I was so close to an orgasm that I would have agreed to anything as long as he followed through on his actions. “Yes, Gaetano, I understand.” Had I jumped from the frying pan and directly into the fiery pits making a deal with the devil? Maybe, but did I care at the moment? Not a flying fig as long as I could be set free, take flight and slowly float in the aftermath of another powerful orgasm.

“Good girl, now cum for Daddy.”

I spasmed around his finger, milking his digit while my body toppled off the edge of reality one more time, and slowly floated, pleasure surging through every nerve. I must have drifted off for a bit because when I opened my eyes, he asked if I’d slept well.

“Yes, thank you,” I said groggily, stealing a glance at his gold wristwatch and seeing that nearly two hours had passed since he’d brought me to this dungeon. Seeing the time was as good as two cups of coffee and a slap to the face. “It’s so late!”

His face didn’t move, but somehow, his expression changed, hardened. “Yes. Time to go home, Gaby.”

He was back to calling me Gaby in that clipped no nonsense tone he used at work, which led me to ponder what would happen next. Fortunately, I didn’t have long to wait. Tano took me firmly by the hand and led me out of the chamber through the empty office and out a back door to a waiting car.

When did he have time to arrange a car?

Opening the back door, he ushered me in and leaned over to do up my seatbelt. Taking a deep inhale, I memorized his scent. Patchouli was the first note I recognized as it was one of my favorite scents; my bedroom in my shared apartment was filled with patchouli incense. Then the woodsy blend of cedar and pine and tobacco, which struck me funny as he didn’t smoke. The blend of essential oils along with his natural musk was intoxicating and I wished I could bottle it to remember the best time of my life.

“Where to, Dr. Vitale?” the driver asked.

Ohh, he must work for the family, that made sense.

Tano seemed to hesitate before answering, “Viletta al Mare.”

‘Cottage by the sea.’ Where the hell did this guy live? Or was that a metaphor for something else, like sleeping with the fishes? Maybe I’d been fooled and Gaetano was connected with my family after all. He hadn’t reacted when I shared my full name and I assumed he either hadn’t heard of us or was not alerted through the chain of command about a missing Don’s daughter.

Beside me, Tano gazed straight ahead while his hand strayed to my right thigh. The miniskirt I’d chosen for work provided little coverage, especially while sitting down. I glanced once at the driver, but his eyes were on the road and Tano appeared to be doing complicated equations in his head as his hand slid up and up and hooked around my lacey G-string. I lifted my hips obligingly and he pulled the skimpy panty away without any change to his expression. Not content to merely take them down, he then proceeded to slide them all the way off, even though that meant breaking the illusion of mental concentration.

I stared out the window, my pussy throbbing in the excitement of the moment, pretending to watch the street lights fly by while Gaetano maybe pretended to tie his shoes, lifting my feet at his discreet nudge, first one and then the other. He straightened with my G-string in his hand, then brought it to his face like a handkerchief and inhaled deeply, eyes closed, like a vintner nosing at a particularly fine glass of wine. Then, and still as stoic as, well, as a surgeon, he folded it away into his coat pocket.

His hand returned to my waiting thigh and again, up under my short skirt. My breath came quicker as he took full advantage of my near-naked state. His warm fingers skated across the sensitive skin near my opening and then he looked directly at me and said, out loud, “Spread your legs for me, Gabriella,”

The command was there, brooking no argument or there would be consequences, and yet, I hesitated. The driver did not react that I could see, but the lack of privacy was concerning, without a partition to separate the front and back seats. A passing sign for Route 27 flashed by the window, prompting me once again to question where we were going, only to let out a short, sharp cry when Tano pinched the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

Parting my legs, I crossed my arms and glared at him. Although I had discovered that I liked it when he took control during sex, I had no intention of showering him with meek, mindless obedience. Rebellion was in my nature and while I may do what I was told by him, for now, I’d damn well make sure he knew how I felt about it!

He saw and smiled. “Save your fire for when it counts, piccolina.”

He slid one of his tapered fingers inside my opening causing me to gasp out loud. How could I be so sore, yet so wet for more?