Punished Virgin Witch: Dark BDSM Love

By Q. Zayne

A dirty angel. A new witch. Dark & kinky forbidden love. Lonely 19 year-old Cassie finds the man she craves. But the Italian stud is in their house for her supermodel Mummy-dearest. Mario's secret punishments make her burn to lose her V-card. ADULTS 18+ “An over-the-lap spanking?” I whispered. His smile gave him sexy crinkles. Adventurous reader, get your copy of Punished Virgin Witch now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Q. Zayne
• Release date: Jun 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215754269

Q. Zayne

Q. Zayne often appears on top 100 author lists. Q. minored in Classical Archaeology and has an MFA in Creative Writing from SFSU. After teaching at the university, working as an editor, and freelancing, the author embarked on a wild digital publishing adventure. Thanks to fabulous readers, super promoters, and unflagging supporters, Q. writes fiction for a living from the Yucatan, Central America, and the California coast.Check out the Quin Zayne books for dirty, high-heat romance, and Q. Zayne for Erotica and naughty fairy tales.

Book preview

Dedication

To T, for saving my life,

and to you. There would be no point in taking these journeys without you to read them.

TEASER

MARIO

Our morality isn't the same as yours.

Your morality includes secret sessions with me?

Yes. You'll understand in time. I'm here to help both of you. Cassie backed away slowly.

She wasn't ready yet. Her defenses insisted I might be crazy. She didn't accept her own nature and couldn't begin to fathom mine.

Mom's New Man

THE BARELY-DRESSED mature muscle stud pouring himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen caught me off-guard.

I pushed my hair back. Few people could look that good in early sunlight. No doubt that was why Mom always slept in.

Stephanie dearest never made an appearance in such harsh light, the vain bitch.

Lucky me, alone with boyfriend number whatever.

You look at home here. I smirked at the too-handsome hunk as he took a sip of our Italian brew.

Mom, aka Stephanie, had gone goo goo over everything Italian this month, even throwing me a nineteenth birthday party the previous week with a gondola ice sculpture. Good thing she invested income from her supermodel years. She maintained her figure and had work done on her face regularly, but after years of pills and booze, she was no longer ready for any close ups.

The morning light created highlights and shadows on the hunk’s broad expanse of ripply bits and my fingers ached to sculpt him. He was way beefier than Michelangelo’s David, and almost as naked, standing barefoot in Stephanie’s newly-renovated Tuscan-style kitchen with his big bare feet on her stone tiles. Even his expression lines, which on most guys his age were merely wrinkles, looked good. Worst, or best of all: those dark brown bedroom eyes.

What would happen if I asked him into my art studio? Stephanie dearest would rip my face off with her nails. I stole another glance at the sunlight loving his cheekbones and kissable lips. This was not fair. Was this one from Italy? I couldn’t keep track.

Good morning, Cassie.

Are you about to leave? I flicked my wrist and pretended to check my watch.

I didn’t have anything on but panties and a little silk kimono. No watch. The joy of summer break. I just wanted him to get the point. I wanted him gone.

So rude. You sound like a girl who needs to be spanked. He turned and gazed at me, his heavy-lidded eyes sweeping me head to toes.

Spanked?! What an outrageous man. Though I did see what Mom saw in this one. Amazing body for his age, for any age.

I blushed for my tousled hair, bra-lessness, and chipped nail polish, too. He wasn’t supposed to be here. No one should see me like this. I got that from her. It seemed indecent to be seen by a man before I put myself together–and at my size, I needed a bra. I crossed my arms over my chest. Hell.

He took his time giving me another once-over and my blush spread lower.

Yes. You need a spanking. His calm, deep voice with its sexy accent distracted me.

Some nerve. Hanging out in my kitchen in his boxers looking hot as hell, calling me rude and saying I needed a spanking. What a perv.

You can’t spank me. I’m nineteen! That sounded so young and bratty, I blushed hotter.

I can if you want me to, Cassie. He had the caressing voice of a lover in a movie.

What was he called? Marius? No, that was the vampire. Mario. Mario took a sip of coffee, leaning against our counter like he owned the place.

Why would I want you to spank me? That’s crazy. I twirled away from my mother’s latest boyfriend, my short kimono swirling up my legs as I stalked out of the kitchen.

Along with being arrogant and knowing how good-looking he was, Mario was nuts. I shuddered to think this guy might end up being a member of the household. Too bad for me, Mom slept late, leaving me with morning weirdness from her bedmate.

I turned at the door to get in a parting shot before flouncing back upstairs. You should go to the doctor and get your screws tightened. You sound like you’ve got a few loose. I tapped my head to make sure he got the message.

Without seeming to move, he got in my face in the doorway and gripped my wrist.

Damn, he was fast. And strong. I stood there, breathless. My nipples hardened so fast they hurt. If he got any closer, they’d poke him in the ribs.

See? You need a spanking. That’s why you act like this.

The doorway felt too small with his body next to mine, his coffee breath in my face, nothing between us but my kimono and his boxers.

I had no complaints about the view. Mario worked out. He was twice my age, but he didn’t look old. I felt way too aware of his broad chest, chiseled abs, hunky arms, muscular thighs, and the hairy navel trail that led to his bulge. Like I wasn’t supposed to notice he was hung. Freak. 

His prominent nose had a bump like it was broken once, but it didn’t mar his smoldering looks. A thick curl fell over his broad forehead, and eagle wing eyebrows set off his flashing dark eyes. He had a sexy mouth, too, and bad-boy stubble. It was like my favorite Italian actors had a love child.

He pulled me out to the deck and across the backyard.

I didn’t resist. Curiosity, I guess. We had plenty of neighbors, I could scream if he got out of line. Plus, I’d taken martial arts and street-fighting classes for years. Mom was paranoid I’d get kidnapped for being the daughter of a supermodel. I knew where to kick and chop to put him out of commission.

Mario didn’t scare me. He was showing off, thought he had something to prove, because unlike Stephanie, I wasn’t charmed by him. Sure, he was eye candy. Sure, unlike most of her guys, he had money. Sure, he could be charming and string a few amusing sentences together. He was a good-looking hunk, nothing unusual around here.

I'm not impressed,