Giovanni (Benedetti Brothers 4)

Her pupils are dilating, her eyes darker but for the thin ring of green. She licks her lips. Although I’m sure it’s involuntary, sure she’s not aware how she looks. How she’s looking at me. I wonder if she has any idea how much her body is giving away.

“You don’t listen very well,” I whisper, leaning in closer so I can smell her, feel the warmth of her skin on mine. Feel that charge, that almost electrical spark when we touch. “But I like bad girls.” I grip her tight ponytail, see her wince as I tug her head backward. I hold her like that, watching her face, watching the tear at the corner of one eye. Waiting for it to fall. Squeezing harder until it does. Until I’m satisfied.

I open my mouth and lick that tear. Taste the salty droplet as she gasps in surprise, and my dick’s hard.

I bring my mouth to hers, touch my lips to hers, inhale before kissing her. She makes a sound—a surprised gasp—and I deepen the kiss, let my tongue slide between her full lips to lick hers, to taste her. Her eyes close but I’m still watching her. I tug on her hair and tilt her head farther and kiss her deeper and fuck, I want her. I want to fuck her right here.

But she needs to be punished first.

A low growl leaves my chest, and I break the kiss. Her eyes flutter open, pupils fully dilated so they look almost black. I grin, rub the scruff of my jaw against her arrogant cheekbone, inhale close to her ear so she hears me.

“You’re turned on.”

She opens her mouth to deny it, but I continue. She’s perfectly still. I’m sure she’s holding her breath.

I like it. Like her like this. Like being this close to her. Fuck, I like her scared and defiant and at my mercy. It makes me fucking hard.

It’s sick, I know, but as much as pain gets her off, this is what gets me off.

“I see it. And I smell it.”

“You’re wrong,” she says, but her voice is a whisper. “Let me go.”

“You don’t want me to let you go.”

“I do.”

“You like the idea of me punishing you?”

“Let me go,” she repeats, her voice wavering. I feel her small hands on my chest, trying, but failing, to put space between us.

“You like it? Your dirty mind imagining what I’ll do?” I squeeze my fist tighter, tugging on her hair until she lets out a small cry. “If I’ll fuck your ass again. Hurt you but make you come so hard you pass out?”

“Stop it.”

“I’ll tell you a secret,” I say, taking my time, breathing in her fear, her arousal. “We’re two peas in a pod, you and me.” She makes a sound, and I press against her. “See, hurting you gets me off.”

Her hands are on my chest, and she shoves against me. “You’re sick.”

“If I’m sick, what are you?” I ask, looking down at her.

“Stop it.”

“No need to hide it. No need to be ashamed of it, not with me,” I say, pressing my erection against her belly. She whines, but when I slide one hand between her legs and rub her sex, that whine turns into a low moan of desire.

I realize I’ve still got a fistful of her hair when more tears fall from her eyes. I feel them on my cheek and pull back, look down at her. She can’t hold my gaze.

“Am I right? Are you turned on thinking about what I’m going to do to you?”

“Stop.”

“I’ll tell you what. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer,” I say, using her hair to turn her around so her back is to me and the side of her cheek is to the wall. Keeping her like that, I slap her ass, making her jump, then dig my fingers into the fleshy mound.

“I’m going to spank that sweet ass of yours, but it won’t be the erotic kind.”

I let go of her ponytail and step back. The instant I do, she does exactly what I know she will. She runs. And I smile. Because the chase is on. And I do love the chase.

“Come back here and take your punishment, Emilia,” I say, stalking after her.

“Stay away from me!” She’s in the living room, standing on the opposite end of the sofa.

“Here,” I say, pointing to the arm of the couch. “Now.”

Her eyes slide to where I’m pointing. She shakes her head.

“Come over here. Come take your punishment.”

“No. You’re a freak!”

“You like it, admit it. Besides, you earned this one, and I’m losing my patience. I won’t ask again. If I have to make you take it, I may not let you come afterwards.”

“I only hit you because you lied.”

“I didn’t lie. I tried to tell you, in fact. You’re just too stubborn to listen.”