River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations Read online

  River Walk

  10 Kinky Collaborations

  Al Daltrey & Friends

  Text copyright ©2015 Al Daltrey

  All Rights Reserved

  This book is dedicated to the ten incredibly talented female writers who came for a stroll along the River Walk with me. Thank you.

  It’s also dedicated to the collaborative spirit in every one of us.

  You see, a reader tells as much of the story as the writer. It’s one of the reasons people tend to love the book more than the movie. The book lets us join in on the creative process, fill in the gaps, and visualize it our way. By reading, we contribute. So read and enjoy.

  You might not realize it, but you are ‘writing’ as you do.

  Table of Contents

  The Power of a Woman

  SPANKED!

  HOSTAGE SITUATION

  The Un-cashed Cheque

  The Discover Ring

  One Last Cigarette

  Through the Ages

  First Journey. Second Thoughts

  Three Wishes

  Love’s Notion

  The Power of a Woman

  Preface

  All of us live with a demon inside. Some days, you control the demon. And other days, it controls you. But the one thing that never changes is that it’s always hungry. It feeds on lust and longing. You may slumber, but the demon never sleeps. It tempts you into crossing every line you’ve ever drawn, and all the while, it tests you, haunts you. And once it has turned your loved ones into enemies, the demon has consumed you whole. ~Jordana

  Jordana Albanese grew up in a world that spun with lies, secrets, and multiple sins. Her father, Gene—reigning king in the Mafia for the last few decades—never protected her from his underworld dealings (La Coso Nostra). She learned at a young age that in order to survive in her world, one must be dominant. She wore the shield of control on a daily basis, but all she wanted was to slip it off and discard it like yesterday’s laundry. Except, letting it go would mean letting it all go. And she didn’t want that. She learned of a compromise—to let go of control in private, behind a closed door, with the orders of him. Not simply to be controlled, but to be dominated. The only problem was that her ambitions cut bone deep. Deeper than her Dom’s belt on her ass. Deeper than the marks from the restraints he used to subdue and pleasure her. The enduring marks were not visible to the human eye. They were profound wounds—scars—on her soul that only she could feel.

  And that’s where she found the perfect balance in the two. Her submissive tendencies served her well in the bedroom. However, in public, she was very much as dominant as her male counterparts.

  CHAPTER ONE

  This was exactly what I needed—some time with him.

  The bruises and bites would heal. I could handle his roughness, but I refused to accept his coldness. I had suffered a lifetime of coldness from my own father, and I wouldn’t do the same with Stefan. His kiss was ravenous and borderline ferocious. There have been a few times since we’ve started this thing together where he’s shown me his masochistic side. I could feel the fury mixed with the passion we shared vibrating throughout his body. He was like a volcanic eruption, burning hot and dangerous…uncontrollable. He released my arms from his vice grip and laced his fingers tightly through my hair. The pain was instant. However, I could feel the moisture pooling between my legs. I was a sick bitch to be so turned on. He deepened the kiss, taking, taking…taking and yet his teeth gnashed against mine, searching for more. He couldn’t get enough. I was left gasping for air when he finally wrenched away.

  “May you, huh? So, you think you’re brave enough to withstand what I’m going to dish out? Is that it Jordana? You want the worst of me?” His eyes, dark and dilated, pierced through mine, erupting something deep within me. “You may regret that in a minute, little one.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  I dropped to my knees and hoped he’d let me show him how fucking serious I was. How I wanted this with him. A long-term relationship. This single act only seemed to make him more irritated. His jaw ticked, causing the muscles to protrude angrily. Without preamble he shrugged out of his pants. The blue veins of his cock engorged thickly. I couldn’t help but lick my lips hungrily, desperate for just one taste of him. A weakness he was well aware of. However, this was his game. All part of teaching me to be patient, and always on his terms.

  “You think your filthy mouth can make it all better, Tesoro? Think a good cock sucking will make it okay. That if I fuck your mouth, everything will be fine?”

  The words were meant to be cruel and ugly. His purpose had been to make me hate him, to make me leave, to prove himself right. But all I heard was that he’d called me Tesoro for the first time tonight, and it did something to me inside. It meant “treasure” in Italian, and it made me feel as though I belonged to him, as though he viewed me as cherished—irreplaceable. And above all…his.

  Whatever torment he’d suffered in his past would surely now be taken out on me.

  If he thought forcing me to give him a blowjob was a hardship, he didn’t know just how good of a submissive he’d trained. My body was no longer mine, but his. It only responded to his commands. His body language. His tenor had proved to be my very own aphrodisiac.

  His hand grabbed the base of his cock, stroking it a few times. I smiled inwardly. Despite his anger and all his protests, he was hard and proud…ready for me. Before I could lean forward to take him, he tightened his grip on my hair and guided his cock into my mouth, setting the stride, and hanging on to all the control.

  An idiot would get the message he’d sent. I was his to use however he wanted. He would offer me no compassion right now, because I’d goaded him. The old me would’ve thought to object, to assert some kind of power in order to keep from appearing weak. However, asserting his dominance only sent a pleasure through my brain, stimulating all those exquisite things that submission seemed to bring with it—on my knees, getting my mouth fucked, I looked anything but weak. He stepped forward, rubbing his cock across my lips until I opened. I purred with desire as the tip of his cock grazed the back of my throat.

  “That’s right, little one. Make those sweet sounds. You like to be used like my slut, don’t you?” he said through gritted teeth. “Because, that’s how I’m going to use you. As my slut.”

  The word “slut” would’ve cut me to my core a few months ago. And the prick knew that. Bastard. He worked hard to fuck with me. However, he wouldn’t win the battle. I didn’t believe his bullshit any more than I thought he’d break me. I lifted my gaze to his, determined, and rolled my tongue around the head of his cock, teasing and tormenting. Seducing.

  “Fuck.” He pulled out and treaded back with a pop, his hand still fisting my hair. I grinned up at him, challenging him once again. His mouth thinned into a firm, pissed-off line. “Get that pretty ass on the bed. On your back legs wide. We’ll see how long you can hold that smile.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I said softly, shyly, assuming all the brattiness that I possessed. “You’re not going to break me,” I threw over my shoulder. “You realize that, right?” I tossed the last part under my breath. I needed to be careful here. My mouth has gotten me in trouble more times then I care to recall.

  His eyes flared, part fury, part unfettered carnal lust. “Oh, is that right?”

  He grabbed me by the back of the neck and marched me over to the bed. His hands spreading my legs wide. Before, I could protest. His hand came down, slapping the tender flesh of my pussy. Again. And Again. The last one aimed directly for my clit. I released a deafening sob, unable to hold back any longer. Yet, I held perfectly still, refusing to show any weakness.

  “You�
��re daring now, it that it? You think a few sessions with me and you can handle me?” He turned me over before I could answer. However, it wasn’t a question to be answered. Smack. Smack. Smack. Another three slaps numbed my ass. “You have no idea what I want to do to you right now. The day I’ve had…and yet you fuck with me.”

  “Please take it out on me, Sir. I can take it…” I practically begged as softly as I could.

  “Fuck, Jordana.” His voice fought for control, sounding strained and forced as it tore from his lips.

  I remained still with my eyes shut tightly. While the air shifted around me, the sound of drawers opening and slamming shut echoed in the room, bouncing off the cold walls and running through me. I had to bite my lip to keep the smile off my face. I knew what was next, and so did my pussy. The situation flourished to explosive levels as it grew inside of me, the anticipation increasing with every passing second.

  “Eyes on me,”

  My eyes flew open as my hands fisted the sheet below, anticipating what was to come. The cool tethers of a leather flogger swept softly across my pussy in one agonizing stroke. I held my breath, refusing my lungs the oxygen it needed. Just fucking do it already. My body craved this punishment—his rigid hand—and the hold he had on me. This is what kept me grounded when everything else in my life was in turmoil.

  “Christ, Jordana,” he said, the flogger dropping to the floor with a light thud. His breath came out labored, his eyes never leaving mine. Was that guilt I saw? His warm hands touched the fresh marks. Tiny kisses rained down across my flesh, heating me up all over again. I knew his fresh marks turned him on. The screamed his. “Tell me I didn’t hurt you too bad. That I didn’t push you too far.”

  I reached for him, bringing his hand to my lips. The gesture surprised him. However, the smile said he appreciated it. “I’m very much with you,” I said in a mere whisper.

  He moved his hand between my thighs, and then along my seam, wetness coating the backs of his fingers. He groaned, licking my juices from his hand. “Amazing, all this pain, and yet you’re drenched. Spread your legs wider.”

  Without another word, he pushed into me. I groaned at the feel of his girth filling me. My body instantly clenched around him, trying to suck him deeper. He seated himself deeply, his hands holding me in place. The last of my self-control slipped away. I truly belonged to him in this moment. Whatever he wanted to do with me, I was all in. He eased back and thrusted into me again, hard, his thighs hitting the backs of mine, reactivating the burn there. I whimpered into his shoulder that now pinned me.

  “I know I hurt you. I should be gentle. But, it’s not possible. I need to fuck you hard, Tesoro. You understand?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “I own you Tesoro. Not just tonight. But every night. You are mine. Tell me you’re mine,” he said with a harsh strain in his voice as he rocked into me even deeper. His thrusts were punishing.

  “Always yours,” I gasped. His fingers found my engorged clit. My world began slipping away as his fingers pinched roughly, my orgasm almost too much. “All yours.”

  “That’s fucking right,” he said, his voice tight and labored. “I’ll always give you pleasure. What you give me…I could never thank you enough. Your trust in me to take care of you—invaluable.”

  My hand reached for him, barely hanging on to my sanity. “Stefan…”

  “Hands above your head or I’ll stop.” He slowed his stride.

  I did so, threading my fingers tightly. I knew he would stop if I didn’t. And I didn’t trust myself to keep them from touching him. I needed grounding. Something to hold on to. My cries escaped, echoing off the walls.

  Stefan let out a slew of filthy, dirty expletives as he ground out his orgasm. A primal groan released from his lips as he spilled himself into me. Our breaths began to slow to a normal pace. While we floated back to Earth from our orgasms, drifting down from our high. He kissed my forehead before removing himself. I immediately grew cold and felt a sudden emptiness threatened to take me under.

  Exhaustion colored his face along with sweat as the rolled over.

  “Mmm,” I hummed, still too incoherent to form actual words. Vaguely, in the back of my mind, I registered that these were new sheets. But something about having the evidence of what had just happened marking them seemed sexy and dirty in the best way.

  “Motherfucker,” Stefan gritted out, the harsh word cutting through the warm feeling that engulfed my body.

  “What?” I answered half dazed.

  His face grew grim as he pointed down at my body.

  After taking a quick peek, I rolled my eyes. “I’m sure I’ll live.”

  “God-fucking-dammit,” he said, distraught. “We need to go over hard-limits and safe words. I can’t just let you push me to this point.” He pointed appallingly at the fresh welts on my ass. One in particular already started to bruise.

  “Don’t you fucking start this shit. Not now…not ever. I don’t need safe words. And I have no hard-limits,” I said, cutting off his irritation. I felt my energy already waning. “I came here with the understanding of what would happen. Don’t treat me like a child. I’m a grown woman who knows exactly what I want. What I want with you.”

  He let out a long, arduous breath and shook his head vehemently. “I know you’re a woman, Tesoro. That wasn’t what I meant. You have a habit of twisting my words to suit your own need for dominance. That is never going to happen—ever.”

  He left the room and headed to the bathroom, returning with a warm cloth. I felt much too tired to do much else but sleep, and far too possessive to wash his cum out of me. Him marking me. If it were up to me I wouldn’t shower for a few days, relishing his scent.

  After carefully cleaning me. He threw the washcloth on the floor and pulled me against his chest. The smell of sex clung to the air like a blanket of eroticism.

  He was quiet, which meant he was thinking. That left me questioning and insecure. “You okay?”

  He didn’t respond and the silence became deafening. However, he pulled me even closer, nibbling my neck. Gently, he craned my head to the side to meet his gaze. Doubt clouded his eyes. Not good. “I’m not sure, Tesoro.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  These are dangerous times and we have to adapt. ~Gene

  My father called me to his office. Normally, when he did this, I’d play out about a hundred different scenarios as to why, but with the effects of my session with Stefan still coursing through me, I didn’t bother. My father never hid the family business from me, but he never included me in the details. So being asked to his office wasn’t a normal thing.

  “Men are the head of family and company,” he’d say. “We are the feet that keep the family moving. We are the brains that make the smart decisions and the soul that keeps it alive.” For as long as I can remember, it’s been driven into me that men are greater than women at everything except dinner and childbirth.

  It’s not that he thinks women are pointless, otherwise he’d never tell me shit about the family. He trusted me because his blood ran though me. And he depended on me a lot since my mother was no longer around. But if he called me to his office, that could only mean a handful of things, none of which were good. I was just thankful that I had seen Stefan and felt settled before this impromptu meeting.

  “Have a seat, Jordana.” He pointed to a chair opposite him at his desk. The computer was off, his books were closed, and he wasn’t on the phone. It was serious.

  “What is it, Daddy?” I sat with my spine straight, my hands in my lap, and spoke with a steady, strong voice. It didn’t matter how serious the situation, my feet wouldn’t falter, my brain could process anything, and my soul was strong. I could hold my own against any man, yet my father refused to acknowledge that.

  “It’s Matty. He’s gotten himself into some trouble.” His eyes never left mine—waiting, watching, anticipating my reaction.

  “What is it this time?” I hadn’t been surprised. Matteo—Matty—was a typ
ical seventeen-year-old boy. There wasn’t much he didn’t do…or try. But this was the first time I had been called to Daddy’s office because of it. It must’ve been serious, but that still wouldn’t make me stammer. It still wouldn’t make me weak or frantic—things my father assumes women are when faced with difficult situations. Stefan tied me up, whipped me, stretched me, and expected me to be silent through it all. There wasn’t much I couldn’t handle.

  “He’s in deep with the Giannottis. About five hundred thousand deep.”

  My mind whirled with the information while my face remained stoic. I would never let on what went through my head. The Giannottis? Stefan Giannotti and his family were in the gambling business, same as my own. We didn’t own casinos or shuffle cards. People came to us for loans in order to gamble. They placed high-stakes bets with us. And we collected, by any means necessary. Stefan’s family was no different.

  “Why would Matty be in debt with them when we have just as much money if he needed it that badly?” It was a risky question, but I threw caution to the wind and asked anyway.

  My father leaned back in his chair and tapped his fingers on the armrest. I knew that look. He did it when debating what to say. “He came to me and asked for money. I gave him some. When he came back for more a week later, I denied him. I thought it was drugs. I had no idea he was placing bets. And I certainly didn’t think he’d go to the Giannottis to get it.”

  Had the moment not been so serious and heavy, I would have laughed in his face. His theory of men and women just blew up in his lap. But I couldn’t smile. I couldn’t be selfish about this because it was so serious. Not only do we not take kindly to unpaid debt, it made it worse that his unpaid debt was owed to our opposing family. Business was cutthroat as it was, add in serious competition and you have a bloodbath.

  “Then pay it off. What are you waiting for?” My tone was hard and accusing, both of which I’m sure he didn’t appreciate.

  “Five hundred is what he borrowed. That’s not including the vig. That would take too much time to come up with. They’ve given us a week. I need longer.”