I’m spread open like a sacrifice on Luciano Rossi’s massive bed.

Thick leather cuffs bite into my wrists, stretched tight above my head. A metal bar locks my ankles wide apart, forcing my knees to fall open until the cool air kisses my dripping, swollen pussy. My chest heaves. Every breath makes my tits bounce, nipples tight and aching from the way he pinched them earlier.

This is it. This is where he breaks me.

The man I humiliated a month ago stands at the foot of the bed, rolling up the sleeves of his black dress shirt with deliberate slowness. His eyes — cold blue fire — drag over...