Daddy's Captive: A Dark Mafia Romance Read online

  “Naughty Amara,” he murmured, giving her head a little shake. “You’ve earned yourself a red-hot bottom.”

  Before she could protest, he spun her around and pushed her down over the sink. The ruffled shorts were jerked to her knees, leaving her ass bare and defenseless. Emilio reached past her, and a flash of fear sliced through her when he picked up a heavy-looking wooden hairbrush. Somehow, she didn’t think he meant to brush her hair.

  Her assumption proved to be true when he tapped her backside with the smooth wood. “I had hoped I could trust you not to try and escape, Amara. I guess I was wrong.”

  In the mirror, she saw his lips curve upward. “Liar,” she hissed.

  He answered her accusation by cracking the hairbrush against her bare skin. The impact took her breath away. Suddenly, she missed the pink ruffles—at least they would have provided some kind of protection. Even her thin gown had lessened the impact of the belt when he’d whipped her earlier.

  The hairbrush connected with her opposite cheek and she shrieked at the explosion of pain. She’d never been spanked before, not even a single swat as a child that she could remember. This was torture, plain and simple.

  She tried to twist away, desperate to avoid another swat from the evil brush, but Emilio wrapped his arm around her waist, pinning her to his side. Relentlessly, he paddled her, each searing spank building on the pain of its predecessors.

  “Emilio, please, stop!” She was perilously close to begging, a fact that thoroughly humiliated her, but the pain had stripped her of her pride.

  “It’s Daddy to you, little girl.”

  Even as her mind instantly rebelled at the idea, her core tightened with pleasure. Oh, God, what the hell was wrong with her? Meeting her own shimmering gaze in the mirror, she pressed her lips together and shook her head.

  “This paddling doesn’t stop until you address me appropriately.”

  No. She couldn’t. There was no possible way she could call this man, this monster... that.

  To her horror, the next time the brush met her bare skin, it was the tops of her thighs he’d targeted. It took less than a dozen swats on those extra sensitive spots for her to break.

  “Okay! Okay!”

  “Say it, Amara.”

  “D-Daddy.”

  As if she’d flipped a switch, her torment stopped. Soft, slender fingers stroked her flaming skin, drawing a whimper from her lips.

  “Good girl. Are you ready to behave?”

  “Y-yes.”

  “All right.” Releasing her, he gestured to the toilet with the evil brush. “Use the potty and then we’ll get you put to bed.”

  The idea of sitting on her assuredly bruised flesh nearly made her whimper again. But she was also in desperate need of the toilet. With a resigned sigh, she lowered herself to the seat, hissing when her ass pressed against the cool porcelain.

  She was just about to relieve herself when she realized he was still in the room, watching her. “Um, may I have some privacy, please? Daddy?” she added when he raised an eyebrow.

  “I’m afraid not. You’ve lost your right to privacy for the foreseeable future.”

  Sweet Jesus, take her now. Closing her eyes, she did her best to pretend he wasn’t there as she emptied her bladder into the bowl. It was a small saving grace she only had to pee.

  Once she’d cleaned up, he helped her back into her shorts. As she’d expected, the ruffles were extra scratchy against her blistered skin and she nearly wept with each step across the room to the bed.

  Emilio—he couldn’t stop her from thinking of him that way in her mind—lifted the covers and she climbed underneath. All she had to do was be good and obedient long enough for him to fall asleep, and then she could find a way to escape.

  Or so she thought.

  As soon as she was tucked into bed, he tugged a pair of pink leather restraints from behind the bed. He reached for her hands, but she jerked away, shaking her head violently.

  “No!”

  “You were very naughty, Amara.” Despite her thrashing around, he was able to capture her wrists within the restraints with embarrassing ease. “Normally I use these to keep naughty little girls from touching themselves without Daddy’s permission. But they’ll also make sure you stay in bed all night, as well.”

  “You can’t just leave me here!” Frantically, she searched her mind for any argument that might sway him. “What if I need to use the bathroom again?”

  But of course he’d already thought of such things. “If you need me, press this button.” He tapped the wall where a red button was just within her reach. “I, or Benito, will come and take you to use the potty.”

  “Benny? I can’t pee in front of Benny!” Is that really your biggest concern right now? a voice in the back of her mind demanded incredulously.

  “Benny has plenty of experience dealing with my little girls. Any other concerns?”

  She racked her brain, but no other arguments came to mind. So she settled for begging again. “Please, Emilio. Let me go and I swear this will never happen again. I won’t even tell Uncle Gio about any of this. Please.”

  “You can go tomorrow, after you’ve been properly punished.”

  Swallowing against the lump in her throat, she nodded. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Perhaps she was really the sick one, because her heart did that strange little flutter again when a proud smile lit his face. “Good girl. Try and get some sleep.”

  “Okay, Daddy.”

  Moments later, the door shut behind him, leaving her alone in near darkness, with only the light from a princess night light beside the bed to illuminate the room. Getting as comfortable as she could with her arms captured in the restraints, she closed her eyes. Sleep would no doubt elude her, given the circumstances, but she needed to at least try.

  She was out in less than five minutes.

  * * *

  Benny was waiting, a silent sentry, on the other side of the door when Emilio stepped out of the bedroom.

  “It sounds like you have your hands full with this one.”

  “Indeed. She dropped something, a needle of some kind, in my bedroom. Run it down to the shop and see if Inigo can’t tell us what she tried to stab me with.”

  Other than a slight widening of his eyes, Benny gave no reaction to the request. “Anything else?”

  “Be on alert. There’s something Miss Vitali isn’t telling me, and I’m not letting her out of my sight until I figure out what it is.”

  Chapter Four

  “Amara. Wake up, piccolina.”

  Whimpering at the interruption to her sleep, Amara rolled away from the voice. But her eyes flew open when her arms pulled against the restraints.

  Emilio was crouched beside the bed, watching her with a smug expression she couldn’t wait to wipe off his face. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

  She wanted to snarl at him, but she managed to force a smile. “Good morning.”

  “I have some breakfast for you. If I let you out of the restraints, are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?”

  There was that same little twist of desire low in her belly she’d felt the night before. Maybe she’d hit her head and this was all some really fucked-up dream, because there was no way she actually enjoyed hearing him call himself Daddy. But, dream or not, she knew she needed to play along. “Yes, Daddy.”

  “Good girl.” As soon as the cuffs were off, he was rubbing her wrists, soothing the slight ache the restraints left behind. She hardened her heart against his display of kindness. The man had basically kidnapped her and beat her into playing his sick Daddy games.

  The fact that she’d tried to kill him first didn’t factor into her outrage.

  “Do you need to potty, piccolina?”

  Little one. The affectionate term was so at odds with the treatment she’d received, and yet it seemed perfectly natural coming from him. “Yes, please.”

  To her dismay, they repeated the ritual of the night before, with him standing in the bathroom with her while she relieved herself. Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she finished and washed her hands before he led her out to a small table in the corner of the bedroom.

  The table was set with pretty plates adorned with little red flowers. Poppies. Her favorites. Whether he knew or it was some strange coincidence, she wasn’t successful in smothering her gasp of delight when she spotted them.

  “Do you like poppies?” he asked with what sounded like genuine interest.

  “Yes.” Part of her was demanding she keep her distance, not share anything even remotely personal. But perhaps if she played along, he would let his guard down long enough for her to take him out and escape. “They’re my favorite.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” Ever the gentleman, he pulled a chair from the table. “Have a seat.”

  She obeyed, surprised to find there was little residual ache from the beatings he’d delivered the night before. Even more surprising was the feast he unveiled after he’d taken the seat across from her at the table.

  Then again, maybe it wasn’t that surprising. Crossing her arms, she leaned back in her chair, eyes narrowed. “You first.”

  With a quiet laugh, Emilio lifted a piece of bacon from the plate and popped it into his mouth. “Satisfied?”

  “No.” She picked up a bite-sized muffin and handed it to him. “Try this.”

  “You’re a suspicious woman, Amara.” But he ate the muffin without hesitation.

  She chose a blueberry from the fruit salad next. “Aren’t we all, Emilio?”

  Pausing with the blueberry halfway to his lips, he raised an eyebrow. “How do you address me, piccolina?”

  “Emilio, please. We’re both adults here, can’t we drop this ‘Daddy’ nonsense?”

  With a heav
y sigh, he picked up the napkin he’d draped over his lap and dropped it on the table. “I can see my lesson from last night didn’t make much of a lasting impression. Stand up, please.”

  The memory of the hairbrush was fresh enough in her mind to have the blood draining from her face. “No, I’m sorry, please don’t spank me again,” she swallowed, her throat suddenly bone dry. “D-Daddy.”

  “I’m not going to spank you, as long as you do as you’re told.”

  She wasn’t sure she believed him, but what choice did she have? Until she found a way out, it was obey or be punished. With a jerk of her head in agreement, she pushed to her feet.

  “Hands flat on the table.”

  Once she was in position, he stood and rounded the table to pull her shorts to her knees. Squeezing her eyes shut, she tried to pretend she was anywhere but here, bent over a table in her childhood crush’s house while he inspected her ass.

  “Barely a mark left,” he said, running his fingers over the cool flesh. His gentle touch gave her that same pull of desire low in her belly from the night before. “If you’re a good little girl the rest of the day, it can stay that way until tonight.”

  “Tonight?” she squeaked out.

  “Yes. I have a busy day, so we won’t be able to begin your punishment until after dinner. In the meantime,” he continued before she could voice any of the dozens of questions bouncing around in her mind, “I’m going to give you something to help you remember your manners for the rest of the day. Don’t move.”

  Unwilling to risk upsetting him any further, she stayed bent over the table as he moved around the room. It seemed like forever before he returned and placed a wide metal ball with a pointed end on the table in front of her.

  “Do you know what this is, Amara?”

  “No.” Two sharp swats connected with the underside of each cheek, and she had to bite back a squeal at the unexpected sting. “I mean, no, Daddy,” she corrected herself.

  “It’s called a plug. It goes in the bottoms of naughty little girls to remind them to behave themselves.” His tone was even, almost conversational. “This is one of the smaller plugs. If you’re unable to be a good girl today, I will replace it with a larger plug and I will spank your naughty little bottom after I put it in. Do you understand me, Amara?”

  “Please, don’t.” Her voice cracked on the plea, humiliating her further, which she hadn’t thought possible. There seemed to be no limit to how low he could bring her.

  “Do you understand what I have told you, piccolina?”

  Realizing begging would bring her little to no mercy, she gave another jerky nod. “Yes, Daddy.”

  Behind her, she heard the sound of a bottle opening, and moments later a cool liquid dribbled between her bottom cheeks. Jesus, the sick fucker was really going to shove a piece of metal in her ass.

  “Don’t clench. It will just hurt more that way.”

  It didn’t escape her notice that he never said it wouldn’t hurt at all if she didn’t clench. Shooting him a glare over her shoulder, she tried to relax her muscles.

  His finger pushed into her, into a place she’d never allowed anyone else to touch. Despite the humiliation of having him in such a forbidden, intimate place, she could feel the slickness of her arousal coating her inner thighs.

  Her body resisted the intrusion, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care. Based on the events of the past twelve hours, her money was on the latter. But even with the resistance, there wasn’t as much pain as she’d expected. It was mildly uncomfortable and there was a slight burn as she stretched to accommodate him, but it wasn’t unbearable. Once his finger was fully embedded in her ass, he pulled it part of the way out and began working a second finger in alongside the first.

  Now there was a bite of pain more like what she’d been expecting. She let out a low hiss, but didn’t bother protesting. All she’d gotten so far for arguing with him was a beating and his fingers in her ass. Better to just wait him out and figure out an escape plan when he left.

  “Relax, piccolina. It will hurt less.”

  Fuck you! She had to clamp her mouth shut to keep from screaming the words at him.

  When he pulled his fingers from her again, she sagged with relief. But her relief was short-lived. The plug disappeared from the table in front of her, and a moment later she felt it pressing against her bottom.

  The cool metal pushed against the tight ring of muscle. If he’d meant to loosen her up before violating her with the damn thing, he’d done a poor fucking job of it. Breathing through her teeth, she gripped the table as he worked the plug into her.

  “You really should be thanking me, Amara.”

  “Thanking you?”

  “Yes. Holding this plug in your bottom all day will make it easier for you to take Daddy’s cock tonight.”

  Her mind instantly rebelled at the thought. “What? No!”

  “Yes. You were playing a dangerous game, Amara. The consequences should be as severe as the infraction.”

  “I-I thought you were going to spank me.”

  “Oh, I am. I have a nice, thick strap that should leave some beautiful marks on your bottom before I give it a proper fucking.” His tone was positively cheerful as he detailed out the punishment he had planned. “Bear down for me, like you’re using the bathroom. It’s almost in.”

  She did as she was told, whimpering as the fullest part of the plug stretched her until she thought she would rip in half. Then it slid home, and she felt her muscles close around the base of the plug as if it belonged there.

  “Wait here while I go wash up.”

  God, if you can just get me out of this, I’ll never do anything bad again. I’ll leave the family. I’ll join a fucking nunnery if that’s what you want.

  Her prayers went unanswered. All too soon, Emilio returned to her side. Adding to her humiliation, he slid a hand between her thighs, stroking a single fingertip along the folds of her pussy lips.

  “I wondered if you’d enjoy being punished,” he said with a chuckle.

  “I don’t.” The low moan that escaped her lips belied her words.

  “Tsk tsk. Are you lying to your daddy?”

  Using the wetness of her arousal as lubricant, he circled her clit with his fingertip. The pain of having the plug inserted disappeared under a flood of pleasure. With expertly skilled fingers, he played her body like a violin, driving her just to the edge of release before pulling her back.

  “You haven’t answered my question,” he said in response to her needy whimpers. “Are you lying about enjoying your punishment?”

  In that moment, she would have done anything, said anything for him to give her the release she so desperately craved in spite of herself. “Y-yes, Daddy.”

  “I thought so.”

  But instead of pushing her over the edge and giving her the screaming orgasm she was certain awaited her, he pulled his hand away. Her shorts were tugged back up over her bottom and Emilio took his seat at the table. Dark, nearly black eyes met hers, a strange mix of excitement and disappointment in their depths.

  “Little girls who lie do not get pleasure. Lie to me again, and you’ll be eating a bar of soap as well. Understood?”

  The resolve in his gaze made it clear he would not be swayed by tears or pleading. “I understand,” she whispered.

  “Good. Have a seat and finish your breakfast.”

  Tears clouded her vision as she lowered herself back into the chair. She told herself they were tears of frustration, but she couldn’t lie to herself any more convincingly than she’d lied to him. As baffling as it was, she felt guilty for lying to him.

  She’d gone mad from being brought so close to coming and left wanting. It was the only logical explanation. Some chemical reaction in her brain had scrambled everything around, and she was confusing guilt with un-slaked lust.

  That had to be it. The alternative was too horrifying to even consider.

  Chapter Five

  After breakfast, she was changed into an outfit somehow even more humiliating than the ‘pajamas’ she’d been forced to wear. The pink monstrosity was a mass of ruffles and lace that barely covered her bottom.

  She’d kept her mouth shut, though. Uncle Gio hadn’t raised a fool, and she wasn’t looking to have a larger hunk of metal shoved up her butt. Not when she could already feel the one she had with every step she took.