Vendetta: A Dark Mafia Bully Romance by Sara Fields – Extended Preview

“Little girl, you’re messing with a world in which you don’t belong. A dangerous one. Now you’re going to tell me how you found out about my real name. You’re going to tell me everything you know,” Col said firmly, and I cried, nodding through my tears. I’d tell him anything he wanted right then. I’d do anything to make the spanking end.

I obeyed even as the belt continued to thrash me.

I told him that I’d heard about rumors about their relationship and how that led me to stay behind after class was over and listen to him and Professor Giordano, how I’d hidden outside the classroom door and heard the professor say his name and that he’d been in hiding all his life. I told him that I’d eavesdropped on their conversation until the bell had rung and I’d had to go to second-period calculus and that I’d been planning my revenge ever since. I sobbed as I confessed all I knew to him and I hoped it would be enough.

“That’s everything you heard,” he questioned.

“Yes. Everything,” I breathed. I tried to hold myself together, but the tears kept falling. His fingers trailed across my punished backside, overtop of the welts I could feel rising and I hid my face in my hands.

“I live in a perilous world, little girl, and if you expose me, you’ll inevitably get drawn into it too. I don’t want that for you,” he said then, using the edges of his nails to scrape against my skin, making me gasp and whimper at the unexpected pain.

“I’m sorry,” I whimpered. “I won’t tell anyone who your father is.”

“But you wanted to. You came here to teach me a lesson and drive me out of Greenwich, but your actions would have had very serious consequences. Do you know what they are?” he asked, and he stood back up, laying the belt against my already scorched bottom once again.

“No,” I wailed, and he drew his arm backward but then he paused.

“If you expose me for who I really am, you will inadvertently tie yourself to me. The Lucchese family has enemies. Many of them in fact and they would kill you because of what you might know and then they’d come to kill me without a second thought, just because it would make them more powerful,” he said, and I whimpered in fear.

“I didn’t know,” I whispered, my voice hoarse from crying.

The belt whipped my ass then, far harder than it had before and I cried into my hands.

My pussy clenched hard. I hid my face in the couch, coming to the mortifying conclusion that I was wet. Not just a little bit. I was positively soaked. I pressed my thighs together, trying to hide my arousal.

The belt whipped me again. Harder this time and I wept, inadvertently letting my legs drift apart then. His fingers pressed against the back of my neck and then ventured into the hair at the base of my scalp. His fingers closed in a tight little fist and I cried out when he wrenched me off the couch by my hair, his movements brutal and sure. He slammed me roughly against the wall of the sitting room and forced me to open my legs by pressing his knee in between my thighs. I hissed when my welted backside pressed against the drywall, the hard surface igniting a fresh wave of pain across my scalded flesh.

“You came here to threaten me, thinking you held the power, but I’m bigger than you. Stronger than you. I know things about this world that would give you nightmares, little girl,” he said. He took one hand and laced it around my throat, constricting the amount of air that I could draw into my lungs. For a moment, I panicked and then I realized that I could still breathe but I could feel the raw strength in his fingers against my skin. I could feel his power and for some insane reason, it turned me on. I should be afraid. I was naked. In danger. In the hands of a man who could very well be a monster and take me right here. Against the wall. Against my will. He was a mafia kingpin’s son and right now, that was making my pussy very, very wet.

“You see how easily I can overpower you. Imagine what the real criminals would do,” he continued, before letting go of my hair and venturing downward with his fingers. His nails scraped against the flatness of my belly and down between my legs. His fingers slid easily along my wetness, discovering my shameful secret.

“They’d take you, right here against the wall without a thought. They’d leave you bloody, bruised, and broken, just because they could,” he warned, and I shivered with need at the threat.

“If you tell anyone my real identity, that I tore the clothes from your little body and that I punished you or even forced myself on you, it’s not going to matter. I’m not going to get arrested for assault. I’m not going to even get a slap on the wrist. None of it would matter because I’d be dead long before anyone could do anything about it,” he continued, as his fingers slid up and down my wet folds.

I closed my eyes and shook before him.

“What are you going to do to me?” I asked shakily. I finally opened my eyes and looked into his gaze and I couldn’t find an answer there. I had thought I had known him this morning. I had thought that I had the power to take him down, once and for all. Now he was a mystery to me. I had no idea what he was about to do to me, and a jolt of desire shot through my body.

“I don’t know yet,” he answered, and I shivered, trying to fight back against the rising tide of arousal in my body. I’d never been treated so harshly before but there was something about it that I was definitely beginning to enjoy.

His fingers left my pussy then and he held them up before my eyes.

“Look. What do you see?” he asked.

His fingers glistened with my wetness. They were soaked with it. I moaned with shame, feeling my cheeks redden with embarrassment. There would be no hiding my body’s reactions from him. Not anymore. He knew that his rough treatment of me had turned me on, that the way he’d forced me to be naked and whipped my bare backside had made me this wet and that the possibility of him forcing himself on me right now had me positively shivering with desire.

Something was wrong with me. I shouldn’t be enjoying this. This was wrong.

“Open your mouth,” he demanded.

After a moment of hesitation, I obeyed. He pressed two fingers onto my tongue, the same two fingers that were soaking wet with my own arousal.

“Clean them off,” he said firmly, and I trembled as the musky sweet taste of my wetness washed across my tongue. I could feel my nipples hardening as I swirled my tongue around his fingers. I was as thorough as I could be. I didn’t know if he was done with the belt or not and I didn’t know if my poor scalded backside could take any more. When he was satisfied, he pulled his fingers from my mouth and returned his palm to cup my pussy.

I moaned but then his fingers left my flesh.

The sound of skin hitting skin echoed around me before I realized what had happened. He’d spanked my pussy. For a long moment, I trembled with my shock and then when the sting hit me, I cried out. It was terrible and intense and shameful and then I realized I wanted him to do it again.

“I should spank this little pussy bright pink,” he murmured, and I shivered as a jolt of pleasure made my clit throb with incredible need. I felt my hips unconsciously rise to his touch and then he spanked my pussy again.

His other hand rose to caress my nipples, before pinching one of them harshly, followed by the other. Pain radiated across my breasts, overwhelming at first in its intensity but as it simmered to a gentle burn, I felt my core throb with need.

“Each time I spank your little pussy, your nipples harden for me,” he observed, and I shivered with shame. He took my right nipple back between his fingertips and pinched it harder than before, causing me to cry out in agony. Or pleasure. The line was beginning to blur, and I was no longer sure where one stopped and the other began.

His palm returned to the place between my thighs and he quickly spanked me there, several times in a row. I moaned, the rising pain unbearable, but I took it anyway. I didn’t know what was happening and why it was turning me on, but I was so aroused. I was so confused. Why would this make me want more?

“You’re soaked, little girl,” he said, and I shook my head, trying to deny it. I begged and pleaded for him to stop spanking my pussy, for him to leave me be, but he shook his head.

“Your hard nipples and this wet little pussy are telling me exactly what you need,” he murmured, and I moaned with shame at his words. A flurry of harsh smacks against my sensitive folds took my breath away then. I cried. I keened. The pain and pleasure rose to incredible levels and I knew that I was just moments away from orgasm. If he kept spanking me like this, I was going to come all over his hand. The wet sound of his palm smacking my flesh sounded dirty and wrong, but so incredibly right.

The smacks paused and his fingers lightly brushed my pussy, sliding against the wetness that had begun to drip down onto my thighs.

I was more turned on than I had ever been in my life.

Col Lucchese had turned my world upside down in a single day and I didn’t know if I would ever be the same after this. He’d stripped me. He’d spanked and belted me until I was sobbing and now, he’d overpowered me and spanked my pussy, showing me that he could take me if he wanted, all to teach me a lesson and now I wanted nothing more than to orgasm and lose all control right in front of him. Right in front of the big picture window in his house.

I would have never dreamed that being treated this way would arouse me. Not like this. Never like this.

Every inch of my body felt like it was on fire with desire. Every part of me wanted to come. My nipples throbbed with my need. My clit pulsed with it and my freshly spanked pussy stung. I was positively soaked as he pinned me against the wall. He’d overpowered me and now I was as wild as a cat in heat.

I lifted my head and stared back into the darkness in his eyes. I drew in one breath after another as we gazed at one another and then I licked my lips.

He was dangerous. He’d hurt me. Manhandled me into submission and taken every single ounce of control away from me that he could. Threatened to take advantage of me just because he could. There was something about him that was pulling me in and now I wanted more of it. He was addictive. Like a drug and I just wanted another hit of it. I wanted all of it.

I wanted him to fuck me. No. I didn’t just want him to. I needed him to fuck me.

My hips rocked into his touch, pressing my clit against his fingertips. He moved them slowly, lightly circling my needy bud and I moaned with pleasure. Liquid heat gathered between my thighs; my skin slickened with it. Then he pressed two fingers inside me and his grip around my throat tightened.

He had taken complete control of me. And now I wanted him to take everything else.

His knee pressed harder in between my legs, forcing them even wider than before. I ground myself against him, giving him access to my body like never before. His fingertips fluttered inside me, stroking my inner walls gently, teasing me into a frenzy. Taunting me with orgasm but never quite letting me soar off the edge into a pleasurable abyss.

I bit my lip.

I’d made myself come before. I’d used the little vibrating bullet that I’d bought at a sex shop in Bridgeport. I knew what an orgasm felt like, but that was all I’d ever done. I’d never had sex before. I had wanted to wait until I was sure that the person I was with wanted to be with me for me and not for the money my family had, or for the prestige that sleeping with me might bring them in the social circles of the elite. I had thought Matt might be the right person, but I had never been more wrong. Now I wanted it to be Col.

His fingers pressed deeper inside me then, finding my virgin barrier and pressing lightly against it.

“My world would destroy you, my little dove,” he whispered then and the dark look in his eyes receded, just for a moment before he pulled his fingers from my body.

“I want your world,” I whispered.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for, little girl,” he warned as his gaze hardened once more. He stared at me like I was a lamb about to be led to the slaughter and for a moment, I felt like one.

“I do,” I answered softly.

He took his fingers and held them up in front of my face, showing me my wetness before he took them and dragged them across my cheek.

“You cried such pretty little tears for me,” he murmured then, and I quivered, feeling my pussy clench down hard at his words. I drew in a breath and my heart hammered in my chest. Heat simmered within me, demanding to be set free.

“Please,” I pleaded.

“You’re going to cry so many more for me before I’m through with you,” he warned and then he drew back his palm, lightly smacking my cheek with it and smearing the evidence of my tears and wetness across my face. I cried out at his harsh treatment, but even as I did, I knew it had made me even wetter than before. I could feel it trickling down my thighs.

He smiled almost as if he could sense it too.

It was like he knew my body better than I knew it myself.

He finally released my throat and then he took both my nipples between his fingertips, pinching them so hard that it almost brought me to my knees. I whimpered with the pain and I squeezed my eyes shut but even as I suffered under his touch, my body sang for him and my arousal for more deepened. I didn’t know what he was going to do me but the mystery of the depths of depravity within him drew me in like a moth to a flame and made me all the hotter.

“Please,” I begged.

What was I asking for? I didn’t know.

“What do you want?” he asked softly, his voice masculine, gravelly, rough, and utterly intoxicating.

“I want to come for you,” I pleaded.

My body was burning, a veritable liquid inferno that was boiling to life inside of me and threatening to erupt at any given moment. All he’d have to do was touch me the right way, smack my pussy, or let me rub myself just a little bit and I’d come right in front of him.

I’d lose the very last ounce of control I had.

He pinched my nipples again, harder this time and I wailed in agony. When he released them, my breasts pulsed with pain and unquenched desire.

Then he reached down between my legs, his fingers just glanced against my clit and I whimpered with need. Carefully, he took my clit between his thumb and forefinger. Then he pinched it, just as hard as he’d pinched my nipples.

I screamed.

I didn’t beg him to stop. I knew he wouldn’t even if I did. He was going to do what he wanted with me when he wanted and my body was going to tell him what I needed when I needed it.

When he finally released my throbbing clit, I panted as pain radiated through my body, twisting into an intense pleasure that only amplified my already heightened arousal.

“Do you want to come, little girl?” he asked, taking his fingers and very lightly caressing my clit.

“Yes,” I begged.

“Yes, sir,” he corrected.

I could have sworn my heart stopped beating then.

“Yes, sir,” I breathed, my voice no louder than a sigh.

“You will wait to come until I’ve given you permission, little girl. Disobey me, and I’ll have to punish you,” he warned, and the air rushed out of my lungs. My thighs quivered and tried to remember how to draw in air.

“Please, sir,” I begged. I didn’t know what came over me, but the words felt right. Not only did they feel perfect but saying them made my pussy clench in the most shameful way and I wanted to say them again. So I did. I begged for him again.

“For the rest of the night, this little pussy is mine. Your orgasms are mine. By the time the sun rises in the morning, your throat is going to be sore. Your little pussy is going to be sore. Your little bottom hole is going to be sore too. None of your beautiful little holes will be innocent by the time I’m finally through with you,” he continued.

I shook with arousal. Every nerve was electrified with it. My entire focus was on his fingers between my thighs as they lightly stroked my clit. I cried as he teased and taunted me at the very edge of orgasm for what felt like forever. I wanted to come so badly that I was almost in tears. I wondered if he wanted me to cry for him again.

“Please, let me come, sir,” I pleaded, the sound of my voice pitifully desperate but I no longer cared. I’d given myself over to him the moment he’d slammed me against the wall.

“Not yet, sweet girl. I want to see you suffer for a little while longer,” he answered and I shivered, moaning with need. My pussy was convulsing with desire, aching to be filled. My skin was feverish with want and I wondered just how much more I could take. How much more he’d make me take and how, for the moment, wasn’t up to me. It was up to him.

My nipples pebbled into hard little peaks and his mouth dipped down. His lips surrounded my hard bud and then his teeth took a hold of it. I squeaked in surprise as he bit down, pain radiating across my chest as he tortured me. When he finally released my nipple, I moaned with relief until he turned his attention to my other breast. When he bit the other, I was more prepared than I was the first time, but it still hurt, and I still struggled to take it.

I was lost in sensation. Pain. Pleasure. Confusion. Arousal. Nothing made sense anymore and I stopped trying to make it. I simply lost myself in the experience of it all. I gave myself over to him and that simple realization made me feel like I was soaring.

I was so turned on. I bit my lip and my breath hitched. A single tear escaped out of the corner of my eye and he reached for my cheek with his other hand, using his thumb to gently wipe it away. And then he slipped his fingers back into my pussy as he continued to gently massage my needy little clit with this thumb.

I would beg again, but I didn’t think that it would help me. He was going to decide when I would come and if I did at all. I whined and shivered before him. He leaned in and pressed his lips against my neck, his heated breath only making me hotter than before.

“Come for me,” he said softly, and my world shattered into a million little shards of glass. I moaned. I screamed. I lost control for him.

I’d never come so hard in my life. My entire body tightened with my pleasure, every muscle tensing with sensation and it overwhelmed me. My eyes rolled back in my head and all the walls I’d worked so hard to put into place against the world crumbled into pieces. He broke through them and I wondered if I would ever be able to build them back up again.

His fingers fluttered inside me. His thumb continued to torture my clit and then a second orgasm edged closer and closer until it slammed over me with the weight of the world. Bright white light blinded me, and I trembled from the power of my release, my thighs shaking as I leaned into him, my legs no longer able to support myself without him.

His arm circled my waist, taking me and holding me up beside him as he broke me. My toes barely touched the floor and as my pleasure cascaded through my body, taking over my every thought. I felt like I was flying. He had me suspended in the air, almost as if I didn’t weigh anything at all.

When my release finally faded, I was left breathless and panting, awash in intense feelings like I had never experienced before. I didn’t have to think though. He’d taken that ability from me. Even though I should be afraid, I wasn’t. The way he was holding me. The way I could feel the heat of his body against mine. For some insane reason, I felt safe with him then. I didn’t know why. It didn’t really matter.

I could feel his arousal pressing into my belly and I panted with need about what that meant. I arched into him, just trying to catch my breath.

He pulled his fingers from my pussy and took me in his arms then. He carried me up the stairs to what appeared to be a guest room of some kind, unlived in and simple, with gray and white décor that reminded me somewhat of a hotel suite.

I wondered absentmindedly if it was his room. It probably wasn’t.

He laid me on the bed on my back and I went to curl up, but he didn’t let me. Instead, he pressed his knee between my legs and forced my thighs to open for him. He knelt over me and I stared up at him, my lips parted as I tried to figure out what he was going to do to me next. But he surprised me.

His lips descended onto mine, capturing me in a brutal kiss that would leave me tender for some time to come. He was harsh in that bruising kiss, but my body simmered to life beneath him. My legs spread a little at first, but when he deepened the kiss, I spread them even wider. My nipples hardened and scraped against his shirt and a moan escaped my throat as his fingers descended to pinch them once more.

I reached for him, trying to pull his black t-shirt over his head but then he stilled. He pulled away from the kiss and stared down at me, his eyes dark as he assessed me.

“Hands over your head. If you move them without permission, I’ll have to punish you, little girl,” he whispered, the threat in his tone very clear. I swallowed nervously and slowly raised my arms over my head.

I felt so vulnerable and so incredibly turned on at the same time.

Fuck. How was he doing this to me?

He leaned back then and took off his shirt himself. I bit my lower lip, watching as he bared the chiseled muscles of his chest. It was obvious that he took care of himself, that he worked out and ate relatively healthy. There was a part of me that wanted to reach out and brush my fingers against him, but I remembered his threat of punishment, so I forced myself to remain still.

“Is your little clit tender for me?” he asked then and my body throbbed to life for him. My clit pulsed, almost like it had a direct connection to his voice and I whimpered.

“Answer me,” he warned.

“Yes, sir,” I whispered, my voice nearly inaudible.

“Good,” he replied, and a shiver raced down my spine.

He stood up then and kicked off his shoes, before removing his socks. Then he unbuttoned his jeans, pushing them down over his hips. Breathlessly, I watched. He was wearing a simple pair of black boxers beneath and I could see the outline of his hard shaft through the fabric. I swallowed heavily.

“Spread your legs wider. Show me that pretty, wet little cunt,” he commanded, and the air rushed out of my lungs at the rawness in his words. My pussy clenched hard and I obeyed, feeling a blush come over my cheeks.

“So wet for me,” he murmured as he gazed down at my bare flesh, and I moaned with shame.

He climbed over the top of me and I shivered, my hips lifting toward him even as he pressed his length against my hip. He pushed his boxers down and I felt the warmth of his cock against my skin. He shifted his weight and then his hard length was pressing up against the slippery folds of my pussy for the first time.

The heat was unbearably hot. My hips shifted just the slightest bit, sliding my clit along his shaft and I gasped as a jolt of pleasure race up and down my spine, spiraling straight to my core where it exploded over me like a sudden rainstorm.

“Naughty girl. You don’t get to give yourself pleasure,” he whispered in my ear as his hips rocked back and forth, taking control of me completely in that single moment. His cock slid up and down my pussy, gliding along easily through my wetness. I shivered and cried out with pleasure as he took ownership of my tender clit.

When his cock was thoroughly coated with my wetness, he shifted his hips again and I sucked in a nervous breath as the head of his cock pressed against my entrance.

“This is going to hurt, little girl, but I want you to think about something as I take you for the very first time. I want you to think about how much I enjoyed discovering you were wet for me and how much wetter it made you when I spanked your pretty little pussy. I want you to think about the fact that when morning comes, you’re going to be sorer than you’ve ever been but you’re also going to be satisfied in a way that you have never have before. Do you understand me?” he said, staring into my eyes and I trembled before him.

“Yes, sir. I understand,” I answered.

“You like it when I take control and remind you of your place, don’t you?” he asked, and I felt myself blush at his words.

“Yes, sir,” I hesitantly answered. I couldn’t lie to him. I hated him. I loved him. I wanted him. He pushed his hips down a bit more firmly, stretching my pussy just a little and my body struggled to accommodate him. He was bigger than I thought, and I wondered if he would fit inside me. About how much it was going to hurt. How much I wanted it to hurt.