Her mouth is moving soundlessly in outrage, until I seat myself again and throw her over my lap, pinning her kicking legs with one of mine and holding both of her thin wrists behind her back.
“Are you insane? Let me go, you bastard!”
Ignoring her, I flip up her skirt, admiring how sweet her ass looks in those tiny panties. She’s filled out nicely in the six weeks she’s been on the run. It’s good to see her healthy and strong. Squeezing one cheek, I grin as she tightens in shock, trying to kick loose again. Pushing her crossed wrists higher on her back, I give her a warning slap.
“Be still,Bellissima,”I warn her with a grin. “Don’t make this worse.”
“Don’t you dare-hey!”Cora screams as I rip her undies off her, dropping the torn fabric on the seat by her face.
“I won’t expect you to count this time,” I tell her, “but the longer you fight me, the longer this spanking lasts.”Pausing after the first thunderous strike of my palm on her rear, I enjoy the sight of the red, perfectly formed handprint. God, that felt good…
I raise my hand again and land it with a fair amount of force. Not the worst I can do, but a strike meant to make her pay attention. There’s not a sound from her, her teeth gritted and her face crimson, though she’s still trying to break loose from my grip on her hands, fingers wiggling.
Slapping one cheek and then the other, a pink tinge blooms on her pale skin. There’s a strangled little noise from her, and she’s still fighting me. Gleefully landing blow after blow, I watch her ass shake, turning redder with each slap, loving the heat rising from her skin. I’ve always preferred giving a spanking with my hand, the mild pain of impact on my palm resonating with the much greater pain on my sub’s ass.
She is stubborn, I’ll give her that, I land another forty-three slaps on her now glowing rear and down her thighs before Cora slumps over my leg.
“Are you ready to apologize?” I ask as she scrambles inelegantly off my lap, pulling down her skirt to cover that luscious red behind.
“Apologize?” she screeches, “Forwhat?”
I raise my hand, fingers wiggling tauntingly. “Are you ready for round two?”
She reaches for her undies before remembering they were merely shredded fabric now. “What am I apologizing for? You being a sadistic asshole?” She tries to back away and bumps into another bank of seats.
Rising, I straighten my jacket and lean over her, crowding her into the seat back. “You are apologizing for taking matters into your own hands - though the triple tap was nice work, by the way, you don’t go stingy on the bullets - for knocking out poor Carlo, stealing his gun and his wallet, and forcing me to chase you all over Europe for the last six weeks. Though…” I tilt my head, pondering. “Maybe you don’t have to apologize for the chase, because I enjoyed that.” I adjust my cock in my pants, which has been granite-hard since I started spanking her. She glances down and then looks away, her face as heated as her ass.
“Fine,” she hisses, “I apologize for doing what needed to be done-” Pausing as I raise my hand threateningly, she regroups. “I sincerely apologize for knocking out Carlo and stealing his things. He was always kind to me and didn’t deserve that. And… Thank you again for saving me. I am truly grateful to you.”
“I accept your apology,” I say graciously, watching her grit her teeth, her hands covering her ass protectively. “We have about ninety minutes before we land in Naples. Would you like some breakfast?”
“No, Dario! I would like to leave as soon as your $75 million dollar jet lands,” she said with her sweet, wide eyes pleading with me.
Running my fingers through her tangled blonde hair, I shake my head. “I really prefer your natural shade.”
“I just…” Poor Cora is floundering and I almost feel sorry for her. “What do you… Why is this…”
“Sit down,Bellissima,”I say soothingly, still stroking her hair. “We’ll have a discussion when we get to my home.”
Sitting down, she winces and leans over, resting her weight on her hip. “I hate you so much,” she mumbles as I laugh.
Chapter Eight
In which there is a visit to the exquisite Toscano Vineyards. Whether Cora likes it or not.
Cora…
After a lifetime with my horrible father, and then my ten weeks in the basement of that evil bastard, you would think I’d be prepared for every possible vile thing that could happen to me. This is a new brand of nightmare because I have no idea what is going on in this beautiful lunatic’s brain. What makes it extra disorienting is that aside from that… that spanking, Dario is treating me very well.
In a few minutes, the flight attendant brings out a couple of chocolate croissants and some juice and asks me how I liked my coffee. I planned on angrily refusing anything but the pastries look really good and I need caffeine like nothing I have ever needed more in my life if I want my brain to work again.
“If you would stop staring at me while I unwillingly enjoy my breakfast that would be better,” I said angrily, but he merely smiled pleasantly and sipped his coffee. I have to balance on my hip because my butt is still incredibly sore and the fact that he grins every time I wince as I shift position makes me want to set him on fire.
It seems almost offensive that he smells amazing, like expensive cologne, good coffee, and testosterone. Considering recent events, I’m disgusted with myself for finding him attractive.
By the time he graciously escorts me off his fancy $75 million dollar jet, my hatred has cooled into simmering anxiety. He tucks me into a ubiquitous mobster black SUV and then ignores me for the rest of the trip, tapping out endless texts and taking a couple of calls in rapid-fire Italian.
When the SUV finally turns on to a private road and drives through the opened iron gates, I finally give up on my self-imposed silence. “Where are we?”
