Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76545 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Again, I’m being punished, but this time I’m over his knee. Just like the first time he punished me. The first time he yanked me over his lap and spanked me to tears.
And then after he punished me, he held me. I was so turned on I begged him to touch me.
“Please, Santo. Touch me. Oh, God, I need you to touch me. If you’d kept going, I would’ve come.”
He turned me back over his lap without a second thought. We were down by the wall and could’ve been caught at any minute, except one knew we were here; no one could find us.
I don’t remember why he spanked me, but he’d been looking for a reason. He’d threatened it so many times it’d become the focal point of my fantasies, imagining him punishing me over his lap. And then he did it.
Over his knee, my ass in the air, he spanked me again.
“Go on, then,” he said, stroking between my legs before he spanked me again. “You said you could come by being spanked.”
My clit throbs, my core contracts. He yanks my hair and growls, “Come, then. Come while I redden your ass. Show me. Come, or I’ll punish you harder.”
I come a second time. This orgasm way more powerful on the heels of the first. I cry out, unable to stop myself, and dimly hope no one in the hall heard that. But the door’s shut tight and I’m alone in here, still stroking myself to the aftershocks of a second climax.
Oh, God, oh God, I can’t believe I made myself double climax to memories of Santo.
Yeah, this is not gonna end well.
Still riding the post-release wave and comforting warmth, I pull the covers up over me and close my eyes.
Oh, Santo.
How I’ve missed you.
God, it feels so right having him home again.
Santo.
My Santo.
I hid myself from everyone at The Castle. Even though I was a young adult now, I was still under the thumb of my father, and I hated it. I didn’t go to prom in high school. I never went to any of the sorority dances or social events in college. And now, as most of my family’s in Tuscany, I was alone. And so lonely I wanted to cry.
“Rosa?” I looked over to see Santo in the darkened corner of the room.
“Yeah?”
“You okay?” he asked.
How did I not realize he was still here?
“You didn’t go to Tuscany.”
He shook his head. “Nah.”
“Why not? They all went.”
“Not all,” he said with a frown. “Mario stayed home, and I said I’d keep an eye on him.”
I narrowed my eyes on him. “Right. You said you’d keep an eye on both of us, didn’t you?”
He flashed me a wicked grin.
“The boy whose name means saint who couldn’t be more of a little devil, could he?”
He shrugged with a pleased smile, as if I’d just paid him a compliment.
“Take a walk with me,” he said. “It’s been a long day and you seem under the weather.”
“I’m okay,” I lied, while I grabbed my hoodie and shoes.
We walked out in the cold, a light rain misting from the heavens. I shivered, but he didn’t touch me. Cameras were trained on every inch of the grounds of The Castle. It wasn’t until we got to the wall that the surveillance disappeared. Still, for the sake of safety, we never went directly together to the blind spot by The Castle wall. Nor did we go when everyone was home.
But tonight, with mostly everyone in Tuscany, it couldn’t hurt to escape down to The Castle wall. Where no one would ever know where we were.
When we were younger there was no tracking capability on cell phones. But we were careful. We’d leave no evidence for anyone.
Santo and I had parted ways when tracking was more fine-tuned.
Good, I suppose.
My heart beat faster as we walked down. We took our separate paths, him to the left and me on a circular path that went right, circled back to the front of The Castle, then back down again until we got there together.
Finally, when we made it, we faced each other and grinned.
Grinned.
Neither of us ever had a reason to grin.
“Come here,” he said softly. He sat with his back up against the wall and pulled me to him. I fit between his arms, my back to his chest. I leaned back and closed my eyes. It felt so nice to be held by him. I fantasized about this before I went to bed at night.
Here, away from the prying eye of the camera, with most of my family overseas, Santo and I entered our mysterious world, as if we’d stepped through a portal to another time and dimension.
It felt right laying here with him.
“Now will you tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked.
“Ah, Santo,” I whispered. “What’s ever bothering me?”