Page 23 of Mafia Daddy

“You stole a phone,” I say, voice low and controlled. “You deliberately broke my trust on day one.”

My palm comes down hard.

The sound cracks through the bedroom like a gunshot.

Milo gasps, body jolting. But the defiance remains.

“Fuck you!” Milo spits. “Fuck you all the way to the bank!”

“I see,” I answer, Milo’s outburst actually calming my own temper.

I need to take my time with this, make the boy suffer, show him that while I might be angry, I’m calm enough to ensure that this is a bare bottomed spanking he will never, ever forget.

“Your naughty peach of a bottom will feel the force of my hand,” I growl. “And don’t think I’ll go easy on you. I’m not some civilian corporate Daddy form those clubs you go to. I’m the real deal. I’m a true Daddy.”

I hear Milo’s breath hitch and sense him grinding himself ever so slightly on my lap.

I’ve got him just where I want him.

But this isn’t about pleasure… this is about punishment.

I spank Milo with deliberate, measured force—right cheek, left cheek, the sensitive underside where thigh meets ass. His skin blooms pink almost instantly.

“You will learn,” I continue between strikes, “that when I give an order, you obey. No games. No sneaking. No manipulation of my own blood to get what you want.”

Milo writhes across my lap, breath coming in sharp little cries now, but I don’t stop.

My hand rains down again and again, turning his ass a deeper, angrier shade of red. Heat radiates from the boy’s skin. Every impact sends a jolt straight to my cock where it presses against his hip.

Milo’s struggles grow weaker, his protests dissolving into shaky gasps and whimpers.

But I’m not finished.

Not even close…

8

MILO

“Awwww!”

My legs kick wildly, heels drumming uselessly against the air as Maxim pauses, his broad palm resting hot and heavy on my bare ass.

The sting is everywhere, a deep, pulsing burn that makes my whole bottom feel twice its normal size. I’m still draped over his lap like a naughty brat, my briefs tangled around my knees, and the position is mortifying.

But that’s not the worst part.

The worst part is the unmistakable, rock-hard length of Maxim’s cock pressing up through his suit trousers, right against my hip.

Before I know it though, a sudden, traitorous wave of heat crashes over me. My cock fully hardens and throbs in time with the ache in my ass, and I have to bite my lip hard to stop the whimper that wants to escape.

No.

Absolutely not.

I hate him.

I hate all of this. I’m not supposed to be getting turned on while the most dangerous man in the city spanks me raw. Yet my body doesn’t seem to care what my brain thinks. The hardness between my thighs gets more intense, and I squirm, which only grinds me harder against that thick ridge of his.