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To the brats who talk back with a smile and misbehave just enough to make Daddy put you in your place... Keep earning those handprints, princess.
“Think whatever you want of me and Nik, princess, but know that none of us went into last night lightly. Regardless of our reasons for doing it, all of us saved your ungrateful little ass. But Cillian… he did what he did to protect you,” I grumble in a gravelly whisper, looming over her. She stares up at me, her defiance not wavering, and it takes every bit of restraint to maintain my dwindling composure. “Now, don’t be a fucking brat and thank your brother.”
“I’m sorry. Am I supposed to be grateful to be locked in a penthouse with two mafia killers I’ve known for a collective five minutes? Forgive me for not parading around the apartment singing Kumbaya.” Nikolai snorts—actually snorts—the smirk at the corner of his mouth spreading into a full smile. “Got it. Sassy as fuck the whole time.”
throat and struggling to come out. Me. Alone. Stuck in this penthouse with the bratty, redheaded princess I can’t stop thinking about—who’d probably stab me in my sleep if she thought she could get away with it. Perfect.
A few handprints on that perfect ass… And she’ll learn to behave for me.
“For fuck’s sake, can you two… just… not?” “I’m not the one ogling her when she gets out of the shower,” I mutter, just loud enough to be heard. Her face flushes immediately, and I swear her nostrils flare. “I didn’t… That was… an accident!” she stammers. “You left the door wide open.” “And yet, you stood there in the hallway and watched. You can admit you liked it,” I taunt her. “I won’t tell.” My grin spreads into a full smile as I wink at her.
I can feel her eyes on me. Glancing. Watching. Assessing. Probably wondering if she could sneak up on me to slit my throat before I caught her.
“Can you promise to be a good girl and listen to me?”
Because this isn’t about control. It’s not even about rules. It’s about her. About giving her what she needs. Someone to teach her how to listen. How to behave.
“You didn’t listen to your father…” His hand cracks against my panty-covered skin, and a breathy, startled cry blows over my lips. “But you will listen to your Daddy.”
Enzo’s warm breath blows across my already flushed cheeks when he leans toward my ear. His short beard tickles my cheek, his lips dust against the shell of my ear, sending goosebumps up my spine. “If you want this, you need to tell Daddy what you want.”
“Your little pussy is so fucking wet for Daddy,” Enzo groans against my lips, and I can hear the approval in his tone. His thumb rubbing over my clit, he presses a finger to my entrance. “Practically begging for me to be inside you.”
“Mine,” he gravelly whispers, rubbing his tip through the creamy white splatters, thoroughly smearing them over the lips of my pussy. “Who does this perfect little cum-covered pussy belong to?” Still struggling to catch my breath, I answer without hesitation, panting, “Daddy… It.... Belongs... To... Daddy.”
“Fine. If you insist… Cillian.” I choke on my coffee, droplets of it spraying across the counter. “You cannot seriously pick your brother’s name as your safeword.” “It’s my word, right?” she quips. “And I’m pretty sure if I scream it, you’ll stop… and he’ll come running.”
“I will spend the rest of the night ensuring you can’t sit tomorrow if you need me to. But I’d much rather spend it making sure you can’t walk.”
“Fuck, I could fill you right now…” Enzo abruptly slows the speed of his thrusts. “But first, I’m going to spend the night edging myself with your tight little cunt. Fucking you until you’re begging me to stop.”
“So beautiful. Drenched in sweat from being Daddy’s perfect little fuck toy. I can’t wait to see how breathtaking you are when you’re dripping with cum.”
“You should get some sleep. I know you’re tired.” “Being Daddy’s fuck toy is exhausting,” I jest, feeling Enzo’s chest vibrate against my face when he laughs. “But you do it so well.” His fingers dust along my spine as a lazy smile pulls at the corners of his lips. “Like you were made for me.”
“You’re mine, princess,” he whispers, his dark chocolate eyes locked on mine and his gaze searing through my soul, as his ire subsides. “Nothing in this world will keep me from you. Not your brother. Not some fucking Armenians. Nothing. Understood?”
“Do I need to hold you down and force myself into that tight little hole? Or are you going to be a good girl and let me play with what’s mine?”
“It’s perfect.” She touches it gently. “But why a key?” “Because it’s to my heart, princess.” It might be an omission of the truth, but it definitely isn’t a lie.
“My sweet little princess”—he heavily exhales, drawing back his hips and slamming into me—“loves being fucked like Daddy’s little whore.”
“I love you, princess. It’s in my blood—like every part of me was made to hold you, care for you, and worship you. You’re mine… My everything.”
“You fucking LoJack’ed my sister?” “You can be pissed with me about it later.” I zoom in on the map, watching the little red dot approaching the Lincoln Tunnel. “When we bring her back home. They’re heading to Teterboro.”
“Since you love… calling me… Daddy… so… fucking much,” I grit between thrusts. “Fucking. Make. Me. One.”
