The Mafia’s Obsession

52



Ayla

“Be a good girl and spread yourself for me, Ayla.”

My cheeks burn. My face-cheeks from embarrassment, my ass-cheeks from his punishment.

My clit is burning, too, but that’s a different story.

“Ayla. If I have to say it again, you’re going back over my knee.”

I hurry to obey him, burying my face in the bed. I’m lying on my stomach in our bedroom now, my skirt pushed up to reveal my bare ass. Alessio stands over me, tall and authoritative, and I feel so owned by him. He’s completely calling the shots now, his presence commanding my total attention after he humbled me withthe spanking.

“Good girl.” I feel lube dribble on my tight hole, and then the pressure of the plug. It’s cold at first, but quickly warms as it slips inside.

“Oh fuck,” I whimper, feeling the plug seat itself inside me.

“Hands behind your back,” Alessio orders.

I obey him. He pins them there, climbing on top of me and unbuckling his pants with the other hand.

My breathing gets faster as his cock pushes against my opening. When he slides it inside, I cry out at the sudden sensation of fullness. I try to move my hands, but I can’t. He’s pinning them firmly in place.

“Iownyou,” my husband growls. “All of you. And I can’t have you disobeying me. Not if I’m going to keep you safe.”NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.

I moan, in a state of blissful surrender now. This is what I wanted. For him to take me, to show me who I am to him. To prove how important he considers me, even if the delivery of the message is rough and dominating.

Especiallyif the delivery of the message is rough and dominating. This is what I crave most, I’m realizing. Ineedthis. To my soul, I trust that Alessio cares about my safety, my well-being, my worth. So in surrendering myself to him, I don’t feel fearful or insecure.

I feel cared about. Protected. Valued.

Loved.

Alessio fucks me roughly, until his cock is throbbing and I can tell he’s on the verge of climax. Then he removes the plug, slides his cock into my ass, still wet from my pussy, and thrusts until he slumps forward, draining his seed into me. His ragged groan of pleasure is right next to my ear, sending goosebumps down my neck.

When his breathing slows, he pulls out and gives my ass a little pat. “Good girl, Ayla. Now spread yourself again so I can put the plug back in.”

I lie curled against Alessio, very aware of the plug in my ass, sticky with his cum. I feel deeply content right now. Like this is where I was made to be.

“I got something today,” he tells me, reaching over to the nightstand. “And it’s a good thing, too. Clearly, it’s needed.” I watch as he produces a thin metal ring about the diameter of my neck. “Any guesses on what this is?”

“It looks like a collar,” I say, cheeks reddening.

“That’s correct. Want to guess what’s special about it?”

“Uh, it’s made of metal instead of leather?”

He swings a hinge that blended so seamlessly into the metal, I didn’t even see it. The collar opens. I lean forward, allowing him to place it around my neck, then he clips it shut.

“Try to take it off.”

I try, but I can’t. I can’t even find the hinge in the back, no matter how much I search with my fingers.

“It won’t open without a key,” he tells me. “This little hole right here?” He points out a tiny speck that I can’t even see from my angle. “This is how I open it. That’s the first special thing about it.”

Fuck. A collar that I literally can’t take off. That’s… intense. Unbidden, my pussy gives a satisfied twitch. “What’s the second thing?” I ask, voice trembling slightly.

“It has a tracking device. Anywhere you go, I’ll be able to see it in real time on a map.”

My jaw drops. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. And after today, I think we can both see why that’s a good idea.”

“You’re fucking crazy,” I tell him, even though the obsession behind that gesture scratches a very deep itch.

“Maybe I am, but I’ll be a little less crazy if I can check on you and know that you’re safe.”

“Knowing where I am isn’t the same as knowing that I’m safe.”

He gulps, his expression turning to stone. “Well, I’ll take it. That, plus getting you out of the state.”

I roll my eyes. “I thought we were done with that.”

“We were. Not anymore. Not after today.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks. “What?”

“Ayla, our agreement was that you would stay at home in the apartment. The whole point was to protect you, and the rules were very clear. But you broke them. I can’t have this betrayal.”

“Betrayal? Oh, come on. Look, I’m sorry, okay? You already punished me. I won’t do it again.”

“No, you won’t. Because you’ll be living in Oregon, or Washington, or Rhode Island, or somewhereother than here. Whatever danger I’m in, you won’t be in it anymore. You’ll be safe.”

“Oh, come on, that’s such a bullshit excuse. I grew up with a mob boss. My dad never sent us out-of-state just because there was sometroublegoing on. That’s what the vacation house was for, remember? The one you burned down?”

Alessio steels his face. “Ayla, do you realize what would have happened if we’d been closer to the car when that bomb went off? You would have been blown to pieces. I would have been picking your charred body parts off the ground.”

“No you wouldn’t. Because you’d be dead, too.” I realize as I’m saying it that I’m not making a very convincing point.

“And that makes it better?”

“No, I just…” I break off, frustrated. I don’t know how to say what I want to. We’re supposed to be ateam. Doesn’t he get why this hurts me? I search my husband’s gaze for understanding, but there is none. I can’t find even a hint of love in his face.

My eyes well up, as much as I try to stop them. I don’t understand why he’s treating me like this. All I know is that my husband sending me away makes me feel deeply, painfully unwanted. It confirms everything I always suspected.

He thinks I’m his weakness, not his strength.

“Won’t you miss me?”

Alessio doesn’t meet my eyes. “I’ll be busy. Making sure this city is safe for us. For our children.”

His words sting, even though he’s just verifying what I knew about our relationship from the very beginning. I’m not a partner to him, I’m a baby-making device. I don’t know how I let myself hope for more than that. Because the sex was good? Because I liked it when he spanked me?

Pathetic. I should have known better.

My voice comes out harsh, almost mocking. “Is that really why you wanted to marry me? To send me away when it’s convenient for you, and then bring me back when it’s time to make babies? Was that really worth all the fucking effort? Oh wait, of course it was. You got to take over the Gonzalez family. What could possibly be more important than that?”

Alessio’s dead expression morphs suddenly into a mask of rage. “Wantedto marry you? Wantedto marry you? I neverwantedto marry you. That’s what mygrandfatherwanted. I did what I was told.”

My eyes sting as salty tears pour down my cheeks. That shouldn’t hurt so much to hear, but it cuts me to my core. Somehow, I actually let myself believe that he desired me forme. “I guess that makes two of us who didn’t want to get married. Congratulations, you’ve made two people miserable.”

His lip twitches at my words, but I can’t understand the emotions behind it. He doesn’t respond, doesn’t evenlookat me.

I can’t resist the opportunity to get in another dig. No use keeping anything hidden now. “I guess I never reallyhad a chance, did I? Considering you’ve been planning to marry me since I was a fuckingkid. At least you waited for me to become an adult before you swooped in.”

He stands up furiously from the bed. “I don’t know what bullshit story you’ve concocted in your head, and I don’t care.”

“Are you really going to insult me by denying it?”

“Ayla, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like I would believe you,” I snap. “As though you’ve ever been open or honest with me a day in your life.”

He throws up his hands. “Fuck this. You have until tomorrow to pick a state, or I’m picking for you. Pack your goddamn bags.”

Alessio stomps out of the room. A minute later, I hear the dull thought of his throwing knife embedding itself in its target. Or maybe the wall.

I scream into my pillow, helpless, trapped, and lost.


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