Dead Man's Hand (Vegas Underground 7)

I’m late. And I had to reschedule because I got called into Michelangelo's yesterday on my day off.

God help me, I like being in trouble with him.

Over the past two weeks, we’ve had crazy mad sex. Sex every day, multiple times and it’s always good. But my favorite times are when he’s a little annoyed or frustrated with me. When I tell him I can’t spend the night, or I push him away emotionally.

That’s when he gets more aggressive. More dominant. A little punitive. It’s when he spanks my ass red and drills me hard. When his hold is rough and his passion fiery hot.

It’s a strange paradox though. I like when he’s mad, but I don’t like displeasing him. I don’t want him to be genuinely annoyed with me. Or hurt.

I turn into the circle of his arms and peer up at him. “I’m sorry,” I murmur in my best sex kitten voice. “You can punish me for it later.” I bite his chin.

His arm tightens around me, and I watch his hazel eyes flood to black as his pupils dilate. “Damn straight I’ll punish you.” His cock hardens against my belly. “I’m gonna punish you all night. Come here, baby.”

He throws me over his shoulder.

“Ack! Gio!” I shriek and giggle as he carries me to the bedroom. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m always hungry, angel. For you, for your food. For this pussy.” He tosses me down on the bed and yanks my skirt up to my waist. “Oh fuck, bambina.”

I wore a skirt and heels because I know he likes it when I dress up for him, and tonight I have on black thigh-highs.

Gio rubs his stubbled jaw. “That is too fucking sexy.” He trails his palms up the outsides of my legs. “This goes a long way toward forgiveness, angel.”

Heat’s building between my legs and I’m already squirming. He slips one thumb under the hem of my panties, brushing the very top of my thigh. “And the panties match. What about the bra?”

He’s suddenly gentle as he works the delicate buttons on my blouse, but once it’s open, he throws it wide. “Fuck, yeah.”

They match. Everything’s black satin and lace.

“You’re lucky you’re so beautiful, babygirl. You know that? You’re as pretty as they come.”

I roll my hips on the bed, hungry for his touch. “Why am I lucky?”

His grin is wicked. “Because I hardly want to mark your skin.”

A shiver runs up my spine. I know this is sex, and yet there’s always that added danger in the back of my mind. Gio’s probably a killer. He knows violence. And it terrifies me, but it also heightens every single interaction we have. The risk level raises the heat level.

“But what if I want you to mark me?” I tease, rolling to my belly and looking over my shoulder at him. “Aren’t you going to spank me?”

Gio’s smile is feral. “Certainly. And I’m going to fuck that ass tonight. But first, I’m going to remind you who you belong to.”

Another shiver.

“How, Gio?” My voice sounds husky, full of lust.

He unzips my skirt and tugs it off, then pulls down my panties. “Put your ass in the air.”

I start to crawl up to my hands and knees, but he catches my nape and shoves my head back down. “Just your knees, angel. Keep those tits on the bed.”

My pussy gushes arousal.

Gio keeps the hand at my nape, holding me down, even though I’m not going to move and proceeds to spank my ass. As always, the first spanks are the worst. Hot and stingy. Shocking and loud. Then my body adjusts. My ass warms up.

But just as it’s starting to feel good, he stops. “Don’t move, angel.”

When he gets the lube, I think he’s going to fuck my ass now, but then he produces a bulbous stainless steel object. I’ve never seen one in real life before, but there’s no doubt what it is. I blush just at the sight of it.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, beautiful.” He dribbles lubricant over my asshole and then swirls the tip of the buttplug in it. “You’re going to wear this while you cook my dinner.” He pushes it against my opening, forcing it in an inch, and I mewl at the intrusion. “And I’m going to watch you prance around my kitchen in nothing but your sexy thigh highs, bra and this plug. Deep breath.”

I inhale.

“Exhale.”

I blow out my breath and he presses the plug forward until it stretches me wide and then, thankfully, seats. The result is a constant pressure on my anus and a full sensation inside.

“Now get up.” He gives me a light slap.

I move slowly, almost afraid of jostling the plug. Every movement brings fresh stimulus to my anus. “Oh, boy.”

Gio splays his hand on my lower back and pulls me against him. “You okay?”