Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Dominik

Kasia is lost in a book beneath the weeping willow in the yard. She’s settled herself into a lawn chair that had been dragged into the shade. There are no tread marks in the grass.

“Did you bring this out here by yourself?” I interrupt her reading as soon as I’m in her earshot.

She looks up from her kindle, shading her eyes with her hand.

“No. One of your big, strong men did it for me.”

She’s trying to goad me into an argument, but it won’t work. Not at the moment. We have more important things to discuss.Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“There’s an umbrella on the patio, you don’t have to come all the way over here to sit in the shade.”

“I like sitting under the trees or in the rose garden. But there’s less shade there though, until after lunch.” I’m surprised by how much she says. It’s been all two or three word answers so far.

Tommy shows up with another chair in hand and places it beside me. Margaret at his side.

“Here’s your tea, Kasia.” Margaret waits for Tommy to put the small folding table down beside her then puts down a steaming cup of tea.

“I would have come in for it…” Kasia sits up straighter in her chair. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble at all. Tommy was looking bored anyway.” Margaret gives me a quick glance. “Would you like something while you’re out here?”

“No. Thank you,” I say with a small nod.

“I don’t mean to be any trouble,” Kasia tells me when the pair have walked away.

“Making a cup of tea isn’t any trouble. I’m sure she’s glad for someone to do things for.” I sit down in the chair Tommy brought out for me, and stare at her for a moment. She’s brushed her hair out and swept it into a side ponytail. The soft pink sundress she’s wearing is a modern cut with a low neckline, but not low enough to show me much more than the curve of her breasts.

She must sense me staring at her, and tugs down the hem of her dress. It’s a modest dress, even with it hiked up a bit with her legs crossed she’s not giving me a glimpse at anything. After last night I don’t need to see what she has between those sweet thighs of hers. I can still taste her on my tongue.

“Did you close my bedroom door last night?” she asks.

I bring my eyes up to hers. “Yes. When I went to bed, I checked in on you then closed it.” She’d burrowed herself so far under the quilt, I had to go up to the bed to be sure it was her hair poking out and not some makeshift dummy. The woman sleeps too heavily. The house could have burned down around her, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

“Thank you.” She scratches her calf. “For closing it.”

I nod. I didn’t think she was thanking me for the spanking. But now that we’re on that subject.

“How are you today?” I ask, wiggling my finger at her bottom.

Her cheeks redden in a single heartbeat. “I’m fine.”

“Come here, Kasia,” I say, sitting back in the iron patio chair and crook my finger.

“Not out here, Dominik. Please,” she says quietly, frantically looking over my shoulder.

“I told you, my men know better than to watch what’s not their business. Now come here.”

She puts her kindle down on the table beside her tea and unfolds her legs. Once on her feet she shuffles the three steps toward me. Prisoners look less concerned while being marched to the execution room.

I spread my legs, capturing her between them. With a twirl of my finger, I direct her. Her jaw tightens, but she does what she’s told and spins away from me.

Since she can’t see me, I take a moment to enjoy the curve of her hips. Tenderly, I touch my fingertips to her legs where the hem of her dress touches. I drag my hands upward, pulling the material with me. Her hands twitch at her sides, but she’s being a good girl for me and not fighting me. Maybe she did learn a lesson last night.

I think she learned something about herself, too.

“No panties?” I ask, somewhat surprised, but then I see the marks. There’re two long welts crossing both cheeks that would make sitting uncomfortable. A dark purple bruise sits right where her panties would hit.

“Are you done?” she asks, her hands fisted, and she sounds close to the edge.

“I have some cream that might help,” I say, poking the welt. She hisses and takes a small step forward. My cock is pressing hard against the zipper of my pants. I grab her hips, pulling her ass toward me. She stumbles back a half step, but I’m holding her, she won’t fall.

I run my tongue over the largest welt then press my lips to the purple flesh where she probably likely hurts the most. Her ass tenses, but I’m not done. I created each of these marks, and I’ll show them the respect, the care, they deserve.

“Dominik.” Her voice is soft, more of a caress than a plea. “Don’t, please.”

“These are mine, Kasia,” I tell her in Polish. “You’re mine.” I kiss the last welt.

I’m sure she understood me; her legs locked up when I made my claim.

“We’ll be married by the end of the week,” I say, pulling her down into my lap. Her bare ass hits my thigh. She winces.

“So soon?” she asks, trying to scramble off. I lock my arm around her waist and shake my head. I don’t want her to go yet, and with the pressure on her ass reminding her of what happens to naughty girls, she stays put.

“Sooner if I can manage it,” I say, brushing the tip of my nose against her bare shoulder. The dress has thick straps, but the rest of her is exposed. Creamy and untouched by the sun.

“I don’t want this, Dominik. Doesn’t that mean something?” She folds her hands in her lap and keeps her attention focused on the grass beneath my feet. Her bare feet dangle between my legs. It’s cute the way she fits in my lap so snugly, so perfectly. Like she was made to be right here.