La Familia
Part Eighteen
by sarAdora


"When the priest asks me to repeat the vows," Francesca leaned against him, her tears soaking his neck. "I'll say no."

Holding her upright against his chest, he rested his chin on the top of her head, one hand on the back of her neck and listened to her breathe. Her words gave him pause and he took even breaths as he digested them. Clearly, the stress of their upcoming nuptials and all the activity surrounding it had taken its toll. There was no other excuse for her behavior.

He had a cure for that.

"Bambina," he murmured. "You will not say no and embarrass both of us."

"Si! I do not want to marry you," she said bravely... and foolishly. "I will *not* say yes; I will *not*..."

He didn't wait to hear the rest of her thoughts, upended her on the spot, one arm under her holding her in place, the other pulling her panties to her knees and then clapping off her bottom as if it were the lead snare drum in a percussion band.

"Giancarlo!" she screamed in rage.

"Francesca," he answered as his hand continued to sear her bottom cheeks.


"Will you say no when the priest tells you to repeat your vows?" A volley of rapid spanks accompanied his words, each one stinging her sore bottom, each one adding a layer of heat to the tender flesh that was rapidly glowing red.

"Please!" she begged, unable to endure his hard hand and longer.

"Will you say no, mia amore?" he asked again, his voice still calm.

"Giancarlo," she gasped. "I am going to die!"

"No, you're not," he chuckled, turning her over once again and because he could... he cupped her sore cheeks in a large palm, the strength of his hand keeping the heat in place. Her eyes continued to tear as she squirmed on his lap and he held her against him until she calmed.

"You will marry me, bambina," he soothed. Keeping his hand on her bare bottom, he carried her further into the wooded garden and away from any prying eyes.

"What are you doing?" she squealed when he pulled his jacket off, lay it on the ground and her on top of it.

"Giving you another reminder of how it will be when we are married, piccola little one."

"You are going to marry me," he told her as he spread her thighs, his body prone between them. One hand cupped her tender bottom and the other stroked her face, his mouth a breath away from hers as he spoke.

Francesca said nothing, the weight of his lower body on hers a sudden reminder of his strength and sensuality and her own inability to resist him.

"Tell me you are going to marry me," he said softly as his hand slipped south, fingers seeking her damp heat, his ardor building.

"You only want me for sex," she told him, her breath getting heavier with each word.

"Si," he agreed facetiously. "There is no other woman who will have me."

She didn't have a response; he dipped his head, his mouth following his hands as he teased her core, lips and tongue in concert bringing her to a place of pleasure only he could deliver.

She soared... the sound of a thousand beating wings rushing through her, lifting her, the whoosh of breath leaving her lungs as she reached an unseen pinnacle. And once achieved, her heart began to slow, resuming its normal rhythm, her body floating on a cloud of bliss.

Cradling her to his chest, he continued to stroke her sopping inner thighs, his fingers drawn to the delicate petals of her sex. And when she finally opened her eyes, his were looking directly into hers. Francesca was stymied at the tenderness in his smile, a tenderness that undermined her will.

"Lo sposorete. You will marry me,"  he told her softly before his mouth covered hers.

She said nothing, but reached for him, cupping his face in both of her hands and kissed him deeply.


She was still in bed when he arrived at Angelina's apartment the next morning, the doorbell waking her. Angelina stepped aside and invited him in after greeting him. Without a word, he went straight to Francesca's bedroom, locking that door behind him.

"Giancarlo!" Francesca exclaimed, pulling the covers to her chin. "What are you doing here? What time is it?" she asked, looking at the bedside clock.

"Time for your spanking, bambina," he chuckled, reaching for her and pulling her out of bed. In seconds, he had her over his knees, her nightgown raised and her bottom bared to his hungry eyes. "Come sei bella, You are so beautiful,"  he murmured and then rained a sharp volley of spanks in the center of her bottom, a bottom still tender from the two spankings he had given her the night before.

"Lo sposorete, si? You will marry me, yes?"

Francesca balked at his words, hissed at the pain, wiggled off his lap, and finally cursed. "Siete il asino! You are an ass!"  she shouted as she stood, her hands rubbing her sore bottom.

"Si," he agreed, grinning. "And you are going to marry this ass. Come here, bella," he coaxed as she backed away from him. "I haven't finished giving you that reminder I promised."

"No," Francesca's hands rose up in protest. "Angelina is home. She..."

"She will wonder why we are so quiet," her future husband grinned, pulling his protesting bride-to-be back into his arms. "Are you going to tell her what I did to you?" he murmured before his mouth claimed hers and his hands pulled her nightgown over her head.


"Tell me you will marry me," he whispered as his hands roamed over her silky flesh. "Tell me."

"You are using your body to bribe me," she protested, giving in to the sensations his hands and mouth created.

"Is it working?"

"You are a very bad man," she answered, leaning into him, the warmth and strength of his embrace comforting in spite of her nudity and his hands on her.

"You will marry this very bad man?"

"Si. I will marry you."

"I will make you happy, bambina. I promise I will make you happy."

"You better," she said tartly, making him chuckle.

"And will you make me happy?" he asked as his hands cupped her bottom, pulling her closer to his rising need, her breasts soft and sweet against his chest.

"After the priest blesses us, I will try to make you happy, but not till then," she insisted.

"You make me crazy," he groaned.

~ End Part Eighteen ~

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