Watch me daddy mafia dad.., p.1
Watch Me Daddy (Mafia Daddies Book 3), page 1
Watch Me Daddy
Skyler Snow
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Epilogue
Author Note
Obey Me Daddy
Mafia Daddies Series
About the Author
More Skyler Snow
Watch Me Daddy © Copyrighted Skyler Snow 2022
https://www.skylersnow.com/about-skyler
This is a work of fiction and is for mature audiences only. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronically or mechanical, without the prior written permission of the copyright holder.
All products and brand names mentioned are registered trademarks of their respective holder and or company. I do not own the rights to these, nor do I claim to.”
Cover Artist: Charli Childs
Formatter: Brea Alepou
Warning and Triggers
Triggers: Watch Me Daddy includes scenes of violence, torture, depression, anxiety, blood, mentions of SA, attempted SA, and abuse.
Prologue
Arie
Sweat kissed my flesh as he writhed on top of me. The weight of his body on mine was familiar but not pleasant. Nor was it unpleasant.
It simply was.
The heat of his breath against my neck made me cringe, however. Why was breath always so hot and moist? It reminded me of Germany; of rain clouds and humidity so thick it forced your clothes to stick to your skin. I turned my head the other way but rested my palm against his wet back.
“So good,” I moaned as I wrapped my legs around his body. “Come on, baby. I know you want to cum for me.”
He grunted. The sound a pig would make as it rutted into its sow. I lifted my chin and let another choreographed moan fill the air of the room. My eyes darted to the mirror on the far wall, and I caught sight of myself. As I looked at my reflection, my stomach clenched, and I swallowed a groan of irritation.
Hurry the fuck up and finish!
It felt like it had been forever since he climbed on top of me. But of course, that’s the way some clients were. Some came, busted a nut, and left. Not Isai. He liked to take his time, hold me, and whisper sweet nothings into my ear about taking me away from all of this before he rutted into me endlessly. As if that was what I wanted. I was right where I needed to be.
My hole clenched as I bared down and tried to force him to cum. I gritted my teeth, and my nails dug into his back.
“I knew you liked it, little kitty cat,” Isai purred. “Take this cock, baby. Take it all!”
Shut up already!
The man-made me want to vomit. He wasn’t a bad-looking guy, and I could smell the wealth rolling off of him in waves, but he wasn’t what I wanted. My tastes lied... elsewhere. Particularly in a 6’5, muscled, well-dressed mobster named Riccardo Bianchi.
As I thought about him, my lips spread into a smile. He would come by soon, and I wanted to be done, showered, and clean for him. Riccardo had a whole stable of whores to look after, but when I was alone with him? Somehow, things felt intimate.
He hadn’t been around much since the fires. I understood it. He had a family to look after and obligations to fulfill, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t miss him.
My eyes darted to the bedside table. The clock on it displayed big, red letters. Slowly, it was ticking down. Three minutes left. If Isai didn’t finish by then, he would have to pay for another hour. I was desperately hoping he would call it quits and go on about his day.
“You feel so good,” I lied as I gripped him. “Isai, you’re amazing.” I arched my back up from the bed and threw a hand over my mouth. “I-Isai, make me cum!”
I closed my eyes and imagined Riccardo between my thighs. My hands would brush against the hair that was so close to his head that it would be prickly under the pads of my fingers. I love how short it is. Makes him look all rough and manly. I grinned to myself, and my cock jumped as I fantasized about his big hand wrapped around my dick as he told me I was his.
Ribbons of cum stained my belly and chest. It splashed against Isai too, and he grunted deeply as he plowed forward hard and pumped his seed into the condom that enveloped his cock. He lifted up and smiled down at me.
“You’re getting better at this, Arie.”
I shuddered as he brought up my real name. Isai was one of the few people who knew it all because he’d snuck a peek at my ID one day. Nosey bastard.
“It’s Cashmere,” I reminded him as I pushed onto my elbows. When he continued to stare, I cleared my throat. “I could use the bathroom.”
“Not yet,” he growled and pushed me back down. “You’ve been avoiding me lately, Arie. Why?” He tilted his head, his blue eyes perplexed. “Did I do something to you?”
I gazed at him and swallowed hard. How could I tell him it wasn’t necessarily anything that he’d done? It was just... him. Isai wasn’t the one I wanted. The one I craved with my whole being.
“No, of course not,” I finally cooed as I caressed his cheek. “Things have been chaotic here, and I have to help everyone out. It’s my job to make sure they’re safe.” I smiled up at him. “We’re here right now, aren’t we?” I asked as I tried to soothe his irritation. “That’s all that matters.”
Isai stared down at me before he caved and nodded. “You’re right. I just want every minute of your free time. Every fucking day,” he growled, his nails digging into my flesh. “I can’t get enough of you, Arie.”
“Cashmere,” I reminded him as my voice caught in my throat.
Alarm bells rang, and my skin broke out into goosebumps hearing him talk that way. He’d been coming around for ages, but I needed him to know I didn’t owe him anything. There was no happily ever after where we dashed into the sunset, and I became some pretty kept thing at one of his houses. I was happy where I was.
“Cashmere,” he repeated as he leaned down.
My heart raced as he drew closer. I turned my head at the last minute, and Isai’s lips missed my mouth and landed on my cheek. When he sat up again, a sneer was on his face.
I fucked up. I fucked up, goddamn it!
“You’ve been different,” Isai said as he pulled out of me swiftly. “A lot different.”
I held back the groan that wanted to slip free as he so abruptly yanked his cock out of me. My client was unhappy. I needed to fix that.
Sitting up slowly, I pushed my fingers through my hair. “Sorry, it’s been a trying time,” I said, picking my words carefully. “Everything here is so unsure, and it makes me overthink everything.”
He turned to me, and his eyes searched mine. “You could have stability,” he said. “We both know there’s a better future waiting for you, but you reject me every time.”
My heart clenched as I gazed back at him. What was I supposed to say? Isai wanted to hand me the world; a life of pampered luxury and never-ending adoration. But I didn’t trust him. Once upon a time, if it had even been five years ago when I was only seventeen, I would have taken him up on it. Now? I didn’t believe shit just because it was said to me.
I stood up and ignored the way my asshole pulsed. “You’re impatient, Isai,” I whispered. “But I’ve told you that my place is here. I have friends here who depend on me. And I look out for them and keep them safe.”
Isai stared at me. “You’re only twenty-two. How are you caring for people who are older than you?”
“With love and compassion,” I shot back without hesitation. “So, I can’t run off with you. I’m sorry about that. I really am. But this is where I belong.”
And it was where I would hold my ground. Men like Isai expected me to spend a few hot, sweaty nights with them, and then suddenly, I would be in love. It took more than awkward fingering or premature ejaculation to grab my attention.
“Why don’t I run you a shower?” I purred at Isai. “And once we’re inside, I’ll massage every inch of you. If you’re staying longer.”
God, I hope he isn’t staying. Go home already! Leave me alone!
If I could scream those words, I would. Instead, I smiled at Isai and ran a hand over his chest. Ensuring my clients left with a good taste in their mouths was the main goal. As long as he returned and spent again, I was doing my job right.
“Mr. Bianchi, how are you?”
My heart skipped a beat as someone spoke. I turned toward the door,
Daddy.
My body felt like it had burst into flames. He was right there on the other side of the door. I needed to touch him, to kiss and hug and hold him until he let me in deeper than he ever had before.
“Hey,” Isai snapped. His hand wrapped around my wrist, and he squeezed. “Am I taking up your goddamn time?”
The anger on his face made me shrink, and I shook my head. “No, of course not, hon. Let’s get you cleaned up. I really have chores after this.”
He eased up a bit. “Fine,” he grumbled. “Hurry up and start the shower.” Isai bent over and snagged his pants before he yanked out some bills and laid them on top of the others already there. “Let’s extend my hour.”
No! No, no, no!
Isai was keeping me as his captive, and I couldn’t do anything but nod, smile, and prepare for our shower. All the while, the man I pined for stood on the other side of the door.
I’ll do better for you, Riccardo.
Chapter One
Riccardo
Arie’s moans were a familiar sound. I stood in the hallway, staring at the door with the shooting stars and Cashmere in the middle of it. His room. The grunting of another man made me tilt my head.
Who’s in there with you this time?
“Mr. Bianchi?”
I turned to the house madam. Kelly-Anne smiled at me, but her eyes were uneasy. She wasn’t the first person to look at me with that restless expression, and she wouldn’t be the last.
“Yes?” I asked.
“If you’d like to book Cashmere again, I could go pencil you in for this afternoon,” she offered as she opened the notebook in her hand and flipped through it. “I think he’s cleared the rest of this evening.”
I stared at Arie’s door. The sounds had ceased. He’d probably moved into the bathroom to take care of his client before he left. It was standard practice at the brothel, something all of them did. But I’d wanted to speak to Arie.
A tinge of irritation grew in my chest and slowly spread. I cut it off before it could become some bigger, unimportant emotion. Kelly-Anne looked at me expectantly, her big, 80’s blond hair sticking out all over in the soft glow of the overhead lights.
“No,” I said as I turned and walked down the hall. “I want the numbers. That’s what I asked for, isn’t it?”
“Y-Yes, Mr. Bianchi.”
The sharp edge to my tone caught me by surprise. I hadn’t meant to sound short, but something about the situation annoyed me. I continued to walk down the hall, my eyes examining each door and the names on them. I stopped at one missing a name.
“Where is Cherry?”
Kelly-Anne sighed. “After the fire, she left,” she said as she tapped her pencil against her book. “I tried to tell her it was an isolated incident, but you know how this thing goes. Girls get spooked, they get offered a better deal, they leave.”
I glared at her. “What better deal?”
She took a step back, her brown eyes widening. “I, uh, I don’t know. Some of the girls said some guy’s been lurkin’ around lately when they leave, talking to them, offering them protection that’s a sure thing. Not that you don’t keep us safe!” she blurted. “But after the fire—”
Riccardo grunted, and she stopped talking. We’d dropped the ball on that one, and now we were feeling the pain. The protection racket and sex trade operations were being met with furious people who were terrified of what was happening. As fear raced through Atlanta, we were losing our goddamn foothold.
“It’s okay,” I said. Use your soothing voice. “We understand that the unrest has brought unpleasantness to everyone in the neighborhood, and we’re working on it. There have been recent developments. We’ll find out who did this and make it stop.”
Kelly-Anne blinked up at me. “Oh, uh, yes. Of course,” she said, slapping on a smile that was way too big to be natural. She cleared her throat. “Why don’t we go through to the kitchen? Do you want a cup of coffee or somethin’?” she asked, her accent becoming more prominent the more nervous she became.
No, I didn’t want any fucking coffee. What I wanted was to find the Ivanovs and drive nails into their hands. And then I wanted answers. Once I had them, Amadeo could tell us how to strike, and then things would return to being peaceful. My brother cared about how the Ivanovs made us look weak, but I just wanted to return to the way things had been before. On my own and buried in my books.
You have to pretend, Riccardo. Pretend you give a fuck, that you feel things, that you care. Or the world will always single you out.
I blinked when we made it to the kitchen and sat at the table. Kelly-Anne busied herself, and I let out a soft breath of relief. When no one was looking right at me, expecting things from me, I felt better. Like a huge stone had been removed from my chest.
“Here you go,” Kelly-Anne said as she sat a mug in front of me. “This is the latest book, but I have the last one in my office. Do you mind if I get it?”
“No. Of course not,” I said with a nod. “Thank you.”
When she walked away, I pinched the bridge of my nose. The mask I kept in place took too much goddamn energy. I preferred being home, in my room, minding my own business, with a book in my hands.
Goddamn Amadeo.
I was grateful for everything he’d taught me, but putting me in charge of the sex work felt like a punishment. Constantly interacting with people, having to pretend I was normal? It was its own form of torture. Our father had let me shine right where I was, working in the shadows, killing, and returning home to take care of things behind the scenes.
“Is that him?”
My ears focused on the words, but I didn’t turn around. I continued to stare straight ahead.
“Yep,” another girl answered the first. “Riccardo Bianchi,” she whispered.
“What’s he doing here?”
“Who knows?” she answered. “But he gives me the creeps. He acts like a robot.”
I slipped out of the chair and walked into the hallway. The women who had commented on me took one look and paled. I raised a brow.
“Can I help either of you?”
“N-no, sir.”
“Then you should be working.”
Both of them made themselves scarce, the sound of their tapping heels scurrying away. Why do they all think I’m a robot? I shook my head as they slammed a door to one of the rooms. Feeling things was something I could do. Showing it? Well, that was another story. And I liked the way I was. Emotions were messy, unnecessary, and dangerous. I didn’t have time for them.
“Are you scaring people again?”
I turned around and found Arie smiling at me. A red robe was wrapped around his body, one of those delicate silk numbers he seemed to enjoy. I looked him up and down. There was a fresh set of teeth marks on his neck and a bruise around his wrist.
“What happened to the rules?” I asked him.
Arie blinked. “Excuse me?”
“The rules,” I repeated as I walked closer and tugged down the robe to expose the teeth marks. “No marks. Who’s going to want to buy you if you already look used?”
His face fell. “Jesus, Riccardo. I’ve told you before. You can’t just say the first thing that pops into your head.” He groaned and took my hand. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
What had I said wrong? It was a fact that seventy-two percent of clients would not hire someone who had marks on them. I had collected the data myself, worked on it, and gathered the numbers again. It was the truth.
I realized I was being led and planted my feet. “I’m busy.”
