Chapter 7

Hailey

I shouldn’t have gotten in the car with him.

Thinking back, I’m not sure why I did since I had sobered up considerably by then. Perhaps his men taking me back to Mrs. Cunningham’s boarding house earlier that day had lulled me into a sense of complacency—exactly what I’d been hoping to do to him.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“We’re going home.” Giacomo’s voice didn’t change, and his hold on me didn’t alter. He was completely unmoved by my obvious distress. It wasn’t until I tried to pull away from him that he tightened his grip on my shoulder, keeping me in place beside him.

“Whose home?” We were going in the opposite direction of my home. In fact, we were headed out of the city. An unhappy chill swept over me, damping any lingering arousal and washing away the last vestiges of relaxation the drinks had imbued in me.

Turning his head to look at me, his expression almost insultingly amused, Giacomo’s lips twisted up in a mocking smile.

“To our home, of course, mio tesoro. Well, to my family’s home we use in the city. I have my own home as well, but it is too far of a drive for tonight. Especially since we are being married on Saturday, and there is much to do before then.” He added the last point casually, as though it was no big deal to announce he planned to marry me the day after tomorrow.

Emotions gripped my chest, making it impossible to breathe for a moment. It was too soon. Far too soon. I wasn’t prepared. I thought I had more time.

Giacomo’s smile widened, indicating his enjoyment of my distress, and I finally lost it. Perhaps I wasn’t as sober as I’d thought, or maybe I had reached the end of my rope, but whatever the reason, any logical thinking flew out the window. I screeched, reaching up to slap him at the same time I tried to jerk away from him.

My palm connected with his cheek, though not with nearly the force I had been trying for. He actually seemed taken aback but moved far faster than I could. Despite my actions, the car didn’t waver, like the driver was completely unfazed by a shrieking, violent woman in the backseat—not exactly reassuring, though I didn’t think about it till later.

At the moment, I was bordering on hysteria and wasn’t thinking. I was reacting to the pent-up rage, the frustration that had been bubbling up and now spouted without any forethought or worry about the consequences. Unfortunately, ramifications were quick and merciless.

One second, I was trying to slap Giacomo again, my feet kicking at his legs, shrieking with rage at the top of my lungs, and the next, I was face down over his lap, and the only thing I was kicking was the inside of the car door. My skirt was yanked up—not that it had far to go under the circumstances—and my underwear yanked down as far as my garters allowed. The whole time, I was screaming.

“Go to hell, Giacomo! I’m not marrying you. I’ll never marry you! You’re a?—”

My voice cut off in another outraged shriek, this one as full of pain as it was anger, as his hand came down on my upturned bottom with a sharp, stinging slap. Far, far harder than the one I had managed to land on his cheek. The very indignity took my breath away before I shrieked again as another landed on the opposite side of my bottom with a biting impact.

“Stop that!” It was more a demand than a request, completely ignored as Giacomo pinned me down on his lap, his forearm pressing against my back, his hand rising and falling, peppering my bottom with harsh swats that stung and burned, setting the skin ablaze.

If I could have, I would have bitten him, but the only thing within my reach was the leather of the seat, which wouldn’t do a thing. Worse, I could feel his arousal growing against my side, pressing into me. He was enjoying this.

Each punishing slap ignited a new fire, any overlap with a previous swat setting the pain threshold higher. Tears slid down my cheeks, and my demands to be put down changed, turning to begging.

“Please, please, Giacomo, please, stop!” I writhed, wishing I hadn’t lost my head the way I had. “Please, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“I’m sure you are,” he said, punctuating his words with another swat, so I didn’t make the mistake of thinking he was finished. “I am going to make sure you are so sorry, you never raise your hand to me again.” Another burning slap landed on my already chastened rump. I shrieked, bucking at hot agony that exploded through my senses as more frustrated tears slid down my cheeks in its wake.

“You’re raising your hand to me right now!”

He actually snorted.

“I am not slapping you the way you did me, nor am I hitting you.” Another swat landed on my bottom, which was feeling so hot and swollen, I thought I couldn’t bear another moment more of his primitive punishment. “I am giving you a well-deserved spanking, which will cause you no lasting harm.”

I might have objected to his definition of harm, but I wasn’t given the opportunity.

Jack

My bride-to-be bucked on my lap as I let loose a flurry of swats all over her already reddened ass. Watching her creamy skin turn pink, then cherry red under the gleam of the streetlights, my cock was hard as a rock. As a natural redhead, her fair skin took to the coloring very easily.

My own cheek still stung where she had slapped me, though nothing compared to the discipline I was laying on her, of course. She would learn. I was happy to be her teacher.

Not that I intended on crushing her spirit. Oh no, I liked her feisty… but not violent.

Still, it had been some time since I’d had a real reason to punish a woman, to hear her cries and pleas, to feel her skin heating under my hand while she writhed on my lap. I was doing so now to the woman I was to marry soon, which made things all the sweeter. Especially since, despite her protests, some part of Hailey was enjoying herself.

My hand brushed against the slick, swollen lips of her pussy now when I swatted her sit-spots, those extra-tender areas just beneath the curve of her bottom. She might shriek, she might cry, she might beg or even curse me, but the pain was arousing her, whether she willed it or not.

Though I wasn’t of the mind to give her early quarter because she was aroused, I did enjoy knowing about her masochistic streak. Yes, we suited each other very well, even if she wasn’t willing to admit—or even understand—exactly how well yet.

Her cheeks were blazing hot under my hand, and we were only a few minutes from the house when I finally stopped. Hailey slumped on my lap, shuddering out a few last sobs, relief threaded throughout the slowly subsiding weeping. I stroked her skin gently, tracing little patterns on her heated cheeks, before dropping my fingers to the wet heat of her pussy.

“No!” she gasped, but there was no force behind it.

“Yes.” I thrust a finger into her, making her moan as her body tightened around it, stretching for the second time that day. The tight little sheath squeezed even harder when my fingers brushed against her swollen clit. “You enjoyed your spanking more than you realized, didn’t you, cara?”

“No!” She shook her head, dropping her face against the seat, denying her reaction more than she was contradicting my words. “No… I can’t… You can’t…” The last two words were said on a bit of a moan, her breathing ragged as pleasure began to swirl around her pain.

“I’m not.” I pulled my finger from her eager hole, and she let out a small whine of protest before she could stop herself. “You were very naughty, Hailey, and naughty behavior shouldn’t be rewarded.” I pressed my slickened finger against the tighter, dryer hole only a short distance from her sopping wet one. “Now, apologize to your Daddy.”

Hailey

“No!” I wasn’t actually refusing to apologize. I had been more than ready to—after all, apologies had already flown from my lips while he was spanking me, and I’d even mostly meant them. I was protesting the threat of the pressure against my bottom hole, the slick finger pushing on that most private area. My cheeks blushed even hotter than my rear when he touched me there.

Unfortunately, taking my rejection of his finger as a refusal to apologize only spurred Giacomo to push his finger into me. By now, the other men were surely used to my shrieks, but this one sounded even louder, shriller than any noise I’d ever made as my most private area was invaded.

His finger felt far thicker, stretching me open there, than it had before. It pushed in, probing, stretching, and I wanted to sob again as pure humiliation swept over me. The physical sensation wasn’t so terrible, which only made things worse. My body was so confused between the brutal spanking and my arousal, the way his fingers stroked me to heighten my pleasure. Now, it thrust inside me in a far more intrusive, far more wicked manner, yet, inexplicably, my body responded with another gush of wet arousal.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to pull myself away from the obscene intrusion, tried to reach back to grab at his hands, but I only had a moment to feel the heat of my chastised cheeks before Giacomo had both wrists in his hand, pinned to the small of my back. His finger pushed in deeper, and I squealed again, muscles contracting, trying to force him out to no avail. There was only one way to convince him to remove it. “I’m sorry I slapped you. I won’t do it again!”

“Who are you apologizing to, little one?” His finger twisted, and I shuddered, squealing again.

“I’m sorry, Daddy!” Anything to get his finger out. But it didn’t work.

“Good girl.”

His finger retreated, then pushed back in again before I could feel even momentary relief. I moaned. It felt so odd. Uncomfortable but not painful, humiliatingly intrusive, wickedly wrong, and disgracefully arousing.

“Please stop,” I begged, pressing my thighs together when he pumped his finger again, filling my bottom between the heated cheeks, making me burn inside and out. My need throbbed as I squirmed, the pressure of my thighs together not stimulating me quite enough to do any good. “Please… please… take it out…”

“You are mine now, little one,” he said, ignoring my pleas as his finger explored my forbidden entrance as though he had every right. “Your mouth, your pussy, your ass, they are all Daddy’s to enjoy. Do you understand?”

I cringed, despite the silence from the front seats, hating Giacomo for being so crude in front of witnesses. Not that I would have liked him any better had we been alone, but the two men hearing his declaration made things markedly worse.

More tears rolled down my cheeks.

Humiliated. Punished. Molested. Aroused. Frustrated.

A woman could only take so much.

Yet there was only one answer under the circumstances, with my bottom already swollen and hot from the spanking and his finger still penetrating me in a lewd manner that proved his declaration.

“I understand.”

“Try again, little one.”

His finger pushed in all the way, twisting, and I bit my lip against crying out as the uncomfortable mix of pain and pleasure clashed inside me.

“I understand, Daddy!”

The car rolled to a stop, my bottom still protesting the invasion.

“Ah, we’re home.” His finger finally withdrew.

I didn’t think I could hate him any more than I did at that moment.