Bronson: A Mafia Billionaire Romance Read online

  “You’re gonna...” Her voice gets small, quiet. She gives a tiny shrug. “Spank me, I guess.”

  My cock twitches.

  “That’s right. You do something bad and there are consequences for your actions. Aren’t there?”

  I’m not prepared for the look in her big brown eyes when they lock on mine.

  She’s so vulnerable. Deep inside, she’s begging for love. For someone to set boundaries. Hold her accountable.

  Make her feel safe, cared for.

  But why would I care? I’m not that man. I’m a Bachman. Keeping the rules in place. Ensuring there won’t be another theft in my store. She’s not the first shoplifter I’ve had to deal with. I’m just following protocol.

  Aren’t I?

  My heartbeat quickens as she continued to stare at me from underneath her dark lashes.

  Clearing my throat, I say, “Very well. Let’s get this out of the way, young lady.”

  “I’m twenty-five, thank you very much,” she murmurs, her eyes shooting darts.

  “So old enough to know better?” I snap.

  “I like nice things. So, sue me,” she shrugs.

  “I won’t sue you. But I will spank you. Seems like someone should have done this a long time ago. Tell me, how often do you steal, princess?”

  She perches herself on the edge of my desk. Right next to me. Taking a seat as if we were a couple of old friends having a conversation. I’m shocked by how familiar she’s being with me. Her leg presses up against mine. A heat rises in my chest.

  Her fingers move to the small brass clock that sits on my desk; her painted red fingertip strokes its smooth metal. It’s the only thing I keep on my desk, an antique from my family. I don’t tell her to leave it be.

  I ask again. “How often?”

  She gives a small shrug. “Here and there.”

  “Here and there? So what are we talking? Just on the weekends? Saturdays? Sundays?” I demand. Why is she sitting so close to me? I can feel the heat from her body pressing though our clothes where our thighs touch.

  Her eyes lock on mine. “Something like that.” The tip of her tongue runs over her bottom lip where she had earlier bitten it.

  I want to take that tender flesh between my own teeth.

  Her lips are the color of roses.

  I want to know what she tastes like.

  Instead of kissing her, I grab her arm.

  I move to the armless chair before me. The one I keep in front of my desk for visitors. I sit down, pulling her over my lap. I’m quite comfortable.

  She cries out in surprise. I pull her full hips directly over the tops of my thighs. Her short legs dangle over the edge of mine, her small feet kick in protest.

  “No kicking.” I give her a sharp swat on the top of her thigh—it’s the spot that brings the quickest obedience.

  “Ow!” she cries. Her feet freeze.

  She grabs at the legs of the chair, her head hangs over my lap. I turn my hips to accommodate her. Her upper body hangs.

  I find it’s best to waste no time when punishing an errant woman. I pull my hand back, high in the air and bring it down with a satisfying smack. A gratifying sting spreads across my palm as it lands on her jiggling ass.

  “Yikes! That hurt!”

  She sounds surprised.

  “First spanking, I see.” I bring my hand down equally as hard on her other cheek.

  This time instead of crying out, she sucks her breath in between her teeth.

  “No wonder you don’t find it necessary to follow rules.” Her hipbones press into my thighs. My hand comes down again, right, then left, then right, then left.

  Her hips wiggle as she whimpers.

  “You’ve gotten away with it up till now, but you chose the wrong man to steal from, didn’t you?”

  She snaps, “Only because you caught me—ow! Ow!”

  I give her five solid swats, as sharp as her tongue. And two thigh smacks for good measure. “Are you learning your lesson? There are consequences for stealing.”

  Her hips wiggle in pain, but she refuses to cry out. Her crotch presses against my cock in the most pleasant way. She refuses to answer me. Anger and frustration radiate from her.

  I can see we aren’t getting anywhere. I sigh as if I’m put out, but I’m glad she’s a feisty one and more drastic measures will have to be taken. “Suit yourself. Lessons are best learned on the bare.”

  Her wiggling stops. Her muscles tense. She turns, trying to get a look at me over her shoulder. Panic flashes in her eyes. “On the bare... what?”

  “Bottom, of course. Unless you have another area you’d prefer to be spanked.” I reach my fingers beneath her elastic-waisted pants, easily pulling them down and exposing her panties.

  Pink panties. Full cut, covering most of her beautiful ass. The sight of those panties takes away all my control. I reach my hand out, smoothing it over the curves of her lightly covered bottom. A soft sigh escapes her.

  The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. “I’ll bet if I ran my finger between your legs, I would find that your panties were damp. Wouldn’t I?”

  Terribly unprofessional of me.

  But my God, that ass.

  She says nothing but a shiver runs down her spine.

  I give her bottom a sharp slap. “I asked you a question, little girl.”

  No answer.

  “I guess I’ll just find out for myself.” Linking a finger into their elastic waistband, slowly savoring the sight, I pull the panties down. I stop just where the curve of her ass meets the tops of her thighs, leaving them there.

  Such a beautiful sight. Her round, full globes are turning rosy from the spanking. The pink panties sit just below in a tight roll. Fabric is gathered between her thighs. Placing one hand on the inside of each thigh, I give just a touch of pressure, spreading her legs.

  A smile crosses my face—I receive no resistance from her.

  I can feel her breath quicken with the shame of her pleasure as my fingertips wander between her parted thighs.

  My cock hardens against her belly as I press her pussy over her panties.

  It’s just as I suspected.

  She’s soaking wet.

  She sucks in a gasp as I press harder.

  I can’t seem to stop myself. Now, my finger is sliding beneath the bunched-up fabric. My skin meets her slick juices. I want to put my finger to my mouth and taste her. Instead, I plunge my finger within her. So tight.

  She croons and squirms. Wanting more. I pull it out, pushing it in again. She moans and the walls of her pussy tighten around my finger. I leave it there, teasing. “Naughty, naughty girl. Am I not spanking you hard enough? You seem to be finding too much pleasure in your punishment. Should I take off my belt and stripe your pretty bare ass instead of using my hand?”

  “No!” she cries out in protest. But her hips grind into my lap. “Please don’t spank me with your belt!”

  Now, I have no choice.

  I pull my finger from her. She gives a disappointed whine of protest. “I’m sorry but you’ve been very, very bad. I must be thorough with your punishment.” My hand strokes the bare skin of her bottom. It’s warm and soft. Goosebumps rise on her flesh. There’s a shiny streak of her arousal from my touch.

  “I’ll be good. I promise. I’ll never steal again!” she cries.

  I give a chuckle at that. She will surely steal again. I just hope I’m the one who’s lucky enough to catch her.

  Hearing my laugh changes her demeanor. She goes from apologizing to shouting in a single second.

  “Don’t you dare! Who do you think you are, anyway? Spanking me, laughing at me, then—Ow!”

  My hand comes crashing down on her bare ass. I watch her flesh as it jiggles.

  Time for a proper spanking.

  Without another word, I take my hand to her. Spanking in quick succession, I keep up a rhythm. Right, left, right, left. My palm’s stinging as I carefully cover every inch of that bare, beautiful
ass.

  Her hips tearing back and forth, she cries, “How dare you! Who do you think you are?” She presses her hands into the arms of the chair, pulling her upper body upward as if to get away.

  I keep spanking.

  The light pink is turning into a bright cherry red.

  “That hurts! Please... stop!” she shouts.

  I stop. I rest my hand on her bottom. It’s hot to the touch.

  “Are you ready to present yourself for a taste of my belt?”

  “No!”

  I raise my hand in the air, letting it hover over her ass. “Then we shall continue.”

  That does the trick. She says, “I meant, no... I’m not ready, but I will... I’ll—”

  “Very good. Hop down from my lap.”

  She scoots herself over my legs, her feet finding the floor. Her face is red. Her hair a mess. Tears prick at her eyes. But she’s looking much more submissive. Gazing up at me shyly, she awaits direction.

  I want to bend her over that desk and fuck her. Lean my face down in her cunt and lick her. But that’s not why we are here.

  I’m simply punishing a girl who’s stolen from me.

  I point to the side of the desk. “Bend yourself over the edge of the desk.” I take off my suit jacket, tossing it onto the chair. I shrug, loosening my muscles.

  She steps out of her already halfway down pants. They fall to the floor. A deep blush rises in her already pink face as she shuffles over to the desk. Not the easiest task when your panties are wrapped tightly around the tops of your thighs.

  Pressing her bare hips against the edge of the desk, she folds her torso over, laying her arms on the desktop. She gives me a pitiful look over her shoulder. One that makes me want to gather her into my arms. Swallowing hard, I resist the urge.

  Her voice is tiny as she asks, “Like this?”

  My throat tight, I reply, “Good girl. Just like that.”

  I stand behind her, my thighs almost touching the backs of hers. Hands on either hip, I slowly tuck my fingers into the sides of her bunched-up panties. I tug them down, pulling them over her thighs and they drop to the floor.

  I take a step back. My gaze devours her. “Spread your legs just a touch.”

  “Like this?” She takes a little step apart. The crackling of her wetness fills the room. I can smell the musky scent of her arousal, her desire. I can just see a peek of the bare lips of her pussy. I hold in a groan.

  She is clean shaven.

  I’d never seen anything so beautiful as the sight of Paige’s ass, red from my spanking, thighs spread and a glimpse of her wet, wanting pussy.

  My cock hardens. I unbuckle my belt.

  The sound of the metal clanging makes the cheeks of her ass clench.

  Adorable.

  I pull my belt from the loops of my trousers. I double it over. I hold it in the air and... snap! I crack the leather just to watch her jump.

  She tries to peek at me over her shoulder.

  “I’m going to give you three licks. But be sure, next time, it will be many more. Are we clear?” I ask.

  “Y-yes, sir,” she whimpers.

  “And I want you to count them for me.”

  “Count them? Out loud?” she whines.

  “Yes. Do it clearly or we will begin again.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Her legs tremble. Her naked ass sits bare, ready for my discipline.

  I will go easy on her. The poor thing’s never been spanked, much less had a taste of a belt. I bring the belt down, hard enough to sting, but not so hard she cries out. Part of me wants her to know there can be pleasure with the pain.

  Even though she’s not mine.

  “One,” she gasps.

  “Very good girl.” I can’t stop my hand from reaching out and stroking the light stripe that is rising on her skin. She shivers.

  I bring the belt down again, this time lower on her bottom. She gives a whimper, then obediently replies, “Two.”

  “Good girl. Last one.”

  I bring the belt down over the tops of her thighs. She cries out, “Three!” and sinks down on the desk.

  It takes every ounce of self-control in my body for me to not free my cock from my pants and fuck the hell out of that perfect, dripping pussy. Instead, I take one last deep inhale of her beautiful scent and pull her panties up and over her ass.

  I place my hand on her trembling hips, pulling her from the desk. She turns around and faces me.

  She’s crying.

  My heart lunges into my throat. I hadn’t anticipated this from her. She’s been so hard, so feisty.

  I’ve barely marked her.

  Her tears can’t be from the pain. But here she is, her little mewing cries turning into sobs. She stands before me, her face in her hands to hide her tears. Her shoulders are shaking.

  I take one step, gathering her to my chest. Wrap my arms around her. All thoughts leave my mind. Any notion of how I was to act in the moment is gone. There’s nothing left but my heart and the way she makes it tug and pull in my chest.

  I rest my chin on the top of her soft hair. I rub her back, shushing and murmuring sweet nothings to her.

  She presses her face against my chest. Her tears dampen my shirt. Her hands reach up, clutching at the fabric of my collar. Her cries begin to subside.

  “There, there. You’re alright, little one.” Little one? Where the hell did that come from? She is tiny, helpless, strong, beautiful—I need to get a hold of myself. I remind myself of who I am and my position in this world.

  Untangling myself from her, I hold her at arm’s length. “Let’s get you dressed.” I help her into her pants. Give her a tissue. While she dries her face, I put my belt back on. She watches wide-eyed as I do. I hand her the yellow bag.

  I’ve done my job.

  She’s been properly punished.

  She won’t think of stealing from me again.

  Sniffling, she looks up at me shyly. Wiping at her tears with her sleeve, she asks me, “What’s your name?”

  “Bronson Bachman.” I reach my hand out. It’s tender from spanking her. She puts her small hand in mine. I lift it to my lips, bend forward and kiss it softly. “Pleasure to meet you.”

  “Meet me? You’ve... spanked me.” Her nose crinkles up in the most adorable way.

  “I have. And I’m happy to do it again,” I say, releasing her hand.

  Her blush deepens. She doesn’t say a word. Not one.

  I want to take her to my bed. Taste her. Make love to her. Feed her sweets and wrap her in blankets. Take the day off and lie with her. Stroke her hair, her skin. Fall asleep next to her.

  Or just fuck her mercilessly.

  I can do neither one.

  I have to see her again.

  The thought comes from nowhere. My heart thuds in my chest. I command, “Come work here. Saturday.”

  Her brow crumples. “That’s my only day off.”

  Now that the idea has entered my mind, it will become reality. “You will be here on Saturday morning at eight o’clock sharp.” I raise my brow.

  “But I already work six days a week.”

  I won’t have her wandering the streets of the city, stealing, risking her life on that seventh day. “Only one day off and that’s enough to get yourself into loads of trouble. Have you thought about what would happen to you if you were to get caught by someone else?”

  She shrugs.

  “We’re talking jail time.”

  “I never get caught,” she sniffs.

  “I caught you.”

  “That’s different,” she shrugs again.

  “How?”

  “You’re... good. I’ve never met anyone quite as serious as you. The others, they are so caught up in their sales, or their hair, their commission, what they are going to have for lunch—they never even see me.”

  My brow narrows. “Let’s say there are other Bachmans out there.” Which there are. Many of them right here within these stone walls. Others who would no
t take kindly to being robbed blind by this woman. I can’t bear the thought of someone other than me punishing her. “What if you were to get caught? Who would care for your patients?”

  “My family,” she whispers.

  “Sorry? You mean to say your family would care for them?” I ask.

  She shakes her head. “It’s nothing, no... you’re right. That would be bad.”

  “You will work here on Saturdays. I’ll pay you well and you can buy yourself the nice things you crave.”

  She’s quiet for a moment. Thinking. Despite my usual collected nature, I find myself holding my breath as I wait for her response. She gives a nod. “Fine.”

  Something close to elation wells in my chest. What is wrong with me? Why am I doing this? Why am I committing to have her under my care?

  I want her here. Beneath my watchful eye. She needs someone to protect her. To correct her.

  I can be that.

  Nothing more.

  My gaze looks over her one last time. “Goodbye, Paige.”

  “Bye,” she calls out over her shoulder. Casually, as if she hasn’t just gone across the knee of a stranger. Then agreed to his demands to become his employee.

  This woman is resilient.

  She opens the door, letting herself out of the office.

  I lean my shoulder against the doorframe of my office. I stare after her as she makes her way through the store. She gives Alice a casual wave as she passes her. I chuckle—she’s struggling to open the heavy front door. She pulls harder, determined.

  It barely budges.

  A man who was browsing in the store walks over to where Paige stands. He is saying something to Paige that I can’t hear. Offering to help her with the door?

  She gives a shake of her head.

  She yanks at the door and it opens. Satisfied, she sashays out onto the street.

  The man who offered to help her is staring at her ass as she leaves.

  I want to kill him.

  What on Earth has gotten into me?

  I can no longer see her from where I stand.

  She’s gone.

  Alice shoots me a curious glance. I give her a dismissive nod, closing my door, signaling the topic is not open for discussion.

  Heaving a sigh, I go to my desk, pull out my chair, and take a seat. I rest my elbows on the smooth top, placing my head in my hands. Running my hands through my hair, I try to still my mind. It’s reeling, clouded by jumbled thoughts of Paige. Where did she live before the city? Why is she stealing? What is it about her that has me so flustered?