Page 94 of Diary of a Mafia Princess

And deep, unbridled need.

His lips came to my ear. “You aren’t his fucking plaything, available to him whenever he wants. You’re never going to say that to me again, you understand me?”

He didn’t even give me a chance to respond. His eyes gleamed bright with anger. “Nod your head and tell me you understand that what you said out there was bullshit. You aren’t his, Nyah. You never fucking were. You were always mine.”

He kissed me hard, none of his usual gentleness to be found. The kiss bruised my lips. Pain and pleasure exploded inside me, and tears welled in my eyes. I tried to shove him off me, because this wasn’t us. This wasn’t how we were supposed to be.

But then he was kissing me again, and everything inside me melted.

Because even furious, it was still him.

Still Dax.

Still the man I loved.

And so I kissed him back, stopped fighting him, and let him punish me the way I knew he needed to. The way I deserved for leaving. The way I deserved for what I’d said and done, and for the way I’d hurt him.

His lips demanded, and I let him take. He kissed me until my head spun, his body unrelenting on mine, his mouth rough, not caring if he smudged my makeup. His tongue stole into my mouth, controlling the kiss, taking what he wanted, and giving me what I needed.

I tried to bring my hands up to his hair, to hold him, to slow him down and find the gentle side of him I loved so much, but he wouldn’t let me. His fingers became steel cuffs around my wrists, and he spun me around so I was facing the door. I turned my head to one side, the wood cold beneath my cheek, and I breathed raggedly as he ground on me from behind, his cock hard through the fabric of his suit pants.

“Dax—”

“Don’t fucking talk, Nyah. Because I don’t want to hear any more of that bullshit coming out of your mouth.”

I’d never seen him mad. Not like this. I’d seen him happy, sad, wild with fear…never this. His artist fingers, normally so gentle, were demanding. His previously gentle touches were fierce, fast grabs of my flesh, and my skin came alive.

My heartbeat sped up, my blood pounding in my ears.

As much as I loved my sweet, gentle man, there was something exciting about seeing him like this.

About watching him lose control and letting him take it all out on me.

Because God only knew I deserved it.

He caught the skirt of my silky dress and hoisted it up until the split was around my waist and he could push the fabric to one side to expose my ass.

He groaned, running his palms over me, my G-string nestled between my ass cheeks because any other sort of underwear would have shown in that dress. He kneaded both globes, so handsy, but that didn’t stop how good they felt.

His palm slapped across my ass.

I let out a cry that was more surprise than anything else.

“Bend over and hold on to the door, Nyah. Don’t make a fucking sound. You deserve this.”

Heat pooled between my legs, and he slapped my other ass cheek, a stinging pain that felt more like pleasure than a punishment.

But I did what he said, letting him spank me, his palm slapping each cheek again until they stung. But then he was on his knees behind mine, drawing my panties off and tucking them in his pocket.

I was sure I was blushing, but it was difficult to tell because my entire body was hot and burning with the need and desire he slapped into me. He widened my legs, exposing my center, and with one palm on my back, my hands braced on the door, he slapped me on the pussy.

I twisted my head, so my groan of pleasure was muffled by my arm.

He spanked me over and over, my ass, my pussy, until all of it thrummed, pleasure coursing through my body. He kept going, driving me as far as he could, punishing me with both pleasure and pain, and when it all got too much, when I was right on the verge of telling him to stop or I wouldn’t be able to sit down for a week, his tongue slicked between my legs, taking all the pain away.

I couldn’t stop the moan. I had no idea where Sindy was, but I hoped if anyone walked past outside, they would assume my moans were hers. Because I couldn’t stop now. I was pretty sure if Carlos himself walked into this room right now, Dax would have just kept going, fucking me with his tongue, devouring me from behind, pleasuring me now to make up for the pain he’d caused.

He worked my clit, licking and sucking it, and then speared me with his tongue. Pressed it inside me, his stubbly beard scratching between my legs in a way that only increased the pleasure. His fingers dug into my thighs, holding me in place, and his tongue dipped back farther, rimming my ass.