Mafia Heir by L. Steele

4

Michael

The beats from the music vibrate through the nightclub. I stare down through the floor-to-ceiling glass window at the mass of writhing bodies. Men and women, men and men, women and women, gliding their bodies against each other, twisting, turning, contorting their bodies into shapes that fit the tempo of the throbbing cadence. A normal Wednesday night at Venom, one of the many nightclubs my clan owns across Italy

A moan bleeds through the air. I turn, watch as Massimo leans back in a settee at the far end of the room. His arm is flung over the back of the sofa, his legs wide apart. A woman leans between them, her face stuck to his crotch. He has his fingers wrapped around her nape as he moves her head up and down, up and down, using her mouth to pleasure himself.

Opposite him, Christian is seated in a leather armchair, a woman draped over his lap, on her front. He palms her butt, then slaps it and she groans. He squeezes her ass cheek and she throws her head back and moans theatrically. Clearly, she is enjoying herself too much for it to be real. Not that Christian cares, what with the two other girls standing on either side of him, both bare-chested. One of them leans down, cups her breast and pushes her nipple into his mouth. He sucks on it, while the third woman wraps her arm about his shoulder. She nibbles on his ear, pushes her bare breasts into his arm.

I glance away to where Xander makes out with a woman wearing a thin sliver of underwear that barely covers her crotch, a man dressed similarly on the other side of him. Xander wraps his fingers around the man’s dick, and the two kiss passionately. The woman leans in to join them. Xander releases the man, only to grip the nape of her neck. He hauls her closer, and soon the three are straining to exchange fluids of the oral kind.

I glance at the door to the private gallery where we are. The VIP room is always booked for me and my crew. Antonio stands to attention by the door, his gaze alert, as always. I cross the room, winding my way between the various bodies until I reach him. "Where’s Luca?" I ask. "Haven’t seen him since we arrived."

Antonio jerks his chin toward the side of the room that looks down on the private rooms.

"He’s decided to pull out all the stops today, huh?" Of all of us, Luca’s tastes run the most toward being an exhibitionist. But I’ve never known him to indulge in it in front of his own family before today.

"He was not happy with the stunt that stronzo pulled," Antonio agrees.

"Make sure his mother is taken care of for the rest of her life."

I turn to leave when Antonio calls out, "Boss…"

I stop, turn to glance at him, "You have a question, Tony?"

"Yeah." He hesitates, shuffles his feet, then blows out a breath, "Why do you think that rat tried to place the blame on Luca?"

I tilt my head, " I have no fucking clue." I raise a shoulder, "It's also not something I am going to worry about for a minute longer."

He nods.

"And neither should you."

"Right, Boss." He straightens. "I’ll be right outside if you need me." He pushes the door open and walks out.

I pivot, head toward the glass wall on the far side of the viewing gallery. With its vantage point, there isn’t anything going on in the club that I could miss from here.

I pause when I reach the wall, glance down at the small room it overlooks on the floor below.

I glance down and see Luca, clad in tight leather pants, raise a whip and bring it down on the exposed back of a woman who has been strung up from the ceiling. He’s tied her wrists together and hauled them over her head, while her ankles are kept apart by a spreader bar.

He swipes the whip across her bare buttocks, and even from this distance, I can make out the lash mark blooming red. Without waiting, he brings his arm down and lashes her a second, third, fourth time, alternating between the butt cheeks. With each hit her entire body swings forward, balanced as she is on the toes of her feet. The pale cream of her backside is marked with red marks. He pauses, leans forward and presses his palm to her, no doubt, aching ass. He massages it, leans in, then whispers in her ear. When she nods, he pats her head and a ripple runs down her body. He slides back, puts distance between them, then takes position. Brings his hand down and whips her ten times in quick succession. By the end of it, the woman is shaking, barely able to stay upright.

He throws his whip aside, shoves his pants down, then closes the distance between them. He wraps his arm around her, his touch both tender and dominant at once. He pulls her hips to him, adjusts himself at her entrance, and in one quick thrust, impales her.

The blood rushes to my groin…which is to be expected. The entire scene is erotic, hedonistic and set up to draw exactly that response from the spectator. What surprises me, though, is the raw passion between him and his sub. I’d always known Luca was in the lifestyle, but hadn’t realized just how much he got off on the exhibitionism of it all.

There is more to my younger brother than meets the eye.

In the time that it took for him and my younger siblings to join me in LA, he had already changed. I'd realized, then, I never should have left them alone to face my father's wrath and his heavy hand.

I had escaped the first chance I’d gotten. I had convinced myself that I had to get out first, before I could send for the rest of them. Had I been too selfish? Had those few months that I had spent apart from my brother resulted in my father irrevocably hurting him. It's something we never speak about. Every time I try to bring it up, Luca merely changes the subject. And after a while, I had stopped asking about it too. Maybe I should confront him about it soon?

Below me, Luca begins to fuck the woman in earnest. She throws her head back as he reaches around to squeeze her nipple. He slides his, hand down to her clit and begins to play with it. I can’t hear them, but there’s no doubt that it sends her into an erotic high as she writhes and moves, tries to turn her head in his direction to kiss him. He leans back, and she chases his mouth. He grins, his teeth white against the tan of his skin. The woman pouts and he slaps her pussy. She shudders and it’s clear she’s close to orgasm and—I turn away from the view. Shit, now I am horny as fuck.

I turn, just as the door opens. A woman walks in. Dark hair that flows to her waist, hourglass figure, she’s clad in a green dress that falls to her knees.

She turns and heads toward me.