Princess felt as helpless as a small child, powerless and unable to resist as Agostini carried her like a rug up the spiral steps. She flailed and kicked, but it made no difference.
Her hands clasped and clawed at his arm but it did her no good. As she screwed up her face, ready to yell with all of her might, she knew it was useless. Better to conserve her energy.
In the dazzling daylight, when he carried her out onto the sidewalk, Princess struggled harder and she shouted to passers-by. Nobody paid her much attention, though. A middle-aged woman nudged her husband. He looked around and for a moment it seemed like he would raise his voice. Or a hand. Or something.
When the man looked up into Agostini’s face, he put an arm on his wife’s shoulders to turn her and usher her away. Just another girl being carried off against her will in New York. She imagined hearing them mutter, What are you gonna do?
One of the black bouncers held open the back door of a blue Bentley. Agostini slung Princess inside, onto the back seat. Her frantic breath was knocked out of her as she landed on the black leather and sank into its smooth softness.
Pierce climbed in after her. Even before he was fully on the seat, before the big goon had shut the back door behind him, her feet, her knees and fingers lashed out.
“Comfortable?” he asked her with his eyebrow cocked. Princess pulled at the nearby door handle. It was locked. She beat on the tinted window to no effect. She spun round and pummeled her fists on Agostini’s chest.
He watched her with a detached amusement. There have could even have been a trace of admiration in his tight smile, but then he seized her wrists.
At the touch of his skin against hers, a shock drained all the strength from her. Like a massive flashbulb went off in the core of her. She trembled inside as he drug her face right up to his and said, “Enough.”
Her face was trapped close to his. His cologne, the smell of his expensive suit and his own musk filled her head. Intense sensation flooded her body. Briefly, in that moment, she was still.
With alarm, she recognized a scent of her own, rising, hot and strong. His nostrils flared and his eyes gleamed hard. She knew she shouldn’t have the dark thoughts that swelled within her and she fought to push them down.
His voice was quiet like a chill breeze. “Don’t you realize that I can make very bad things happen to your daddy?” She bit her lip and managed to tug with her wrists.
His grip tightened and he spoke through his clenched teeth. “You’re collateral. You’re here so that he’ll cooperate with me.” She wrenched her arms and brought a knee into the side of his thigh. He held her wrists even tighter, and it hurt. “It would be a shame if bad things happened to your daddy, or to Hotsteppa’s, because of you, wouldn’t it?”
He took both of her wrists in one hand and held her so easily that it made her tremble. He pulled her body down and held her across his thighs. Her breasts were crushed against his tight, muscular legs.
His heavy hand pressed firmly on her back and fastened her onto his lap. Still, she writhed and struggled.
“Do you want me to spank you?” There was a cruel amusement in his voice now. “Like a naughty schoolgirl? Is that how we’re going to play this?”
She almost stopped moving. The weight of his hand on her back, the strength of him as he held her down. Something in the suggestion that he might spank her was very thrilling, and in a way, that troubled her. With her eyes screwed shut, Princess chased the idea away. Whatever that feeling was, she didn’t want it. Especially not now.
Pinned to his hard thighs, she couldn’t see above the seat. The big car rocked gently as it swayed through the Manhattan traffic, but she couldn’t see out to get any idea of where they were going.
It was hot where she was, and breathing into the leather upholstery didn’t help. She asked him, “You really believe what you said back in the club? You think you can just take whatever you want?”
The rumble of his chuckle vibrated from his legs and though her body. He told her, “It’s a proven fact, Princess.”
“In the way that you’ve just taken me?”
“To get what I need from a person, I’ll take what they love best. They’ll give me whatever I want to get it back.”
“And that’s why you’ve taken me?”
“I took you from your daddy because I need to have his nightclub.”
“So, what will you take from me, Pierce Agostini?”
“I don’t need anything from you, Princess.” She heard the smirk in his voice as he turned to look in her face. He was handsome like the devil.
“So, are you telling me that while I’m in your power, you don’t plan to amuse yourself by taking me?”
“I have no wish to ‘take’ you, Princess. I’m sure many have tried, few, if any, succeeded, and most—if not all—probably regretted it.” His hand held down her back more firmly.
“No, I don’t want to ‘take’ you.” He paused. Then a cruel smile darkened his face. “Although it could be fun to watch you break.”
Princess tried to shift her body but it only made her breasts press harder onto his thighs. Her breath trembled and her chest felt tight. “Why do you need Hotsteppa’s, Mr. Agostini?”
After a pause, he said, “I’m not a Bond villain. I’m not going to reveal my evil schemes to you and say, ‘mwa-ha-ha,’ so that you can break free and thwart them with your skill and cunning.”
Princess shook her head. Some days, she thought, nothing goes right.
A firm and distinctive stirring was definitely going on beneath her. Below her breasts, inside the fabric of his suit pants, something heavy and strong started to heat and uncoil.
She wished she could scoot down and bite it.