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“There’s nothing else.”

I hear the lie in my voice, but I don’t want to go into detail about the things Dario and I did. Piotr can thrash my ass all he likes, but there are some secrets I intend to keep. That resolve shatters when the belt slaps down on my throbbing backside again. I let out an animalistic wail.

“I’m telling you, Piotr, there’s nothing else.”

“Olivia,” he warns. “I can do this all night.”

He can, but I can’t.

“Alright,” I yell before he can spank me with that damned belt again. “He put his fingers inside me, but I didn’t like it.”

“He hurt you?” Piotr’s tone is murderous.

“Not really. He just wasn’t…” I don’t know how to explain the revulsion I felt when Dario pawed at me. “It wasn’t like when you did it.”

“Are you saying you enjoyed my touch?”

“Yes.”

Piotr runs his hand over my aching butt. I rock my hips and moan as desire floods me. His touch does unbelievable things to me.

“Are you trying to distract me from questioning you, Olivia?”

“No.” It hadn’t occurred to me to try, and his tone tells me it’s just as well because he’ll see right through any attempted manipulation.

“Okay, so tell me, Olivia, what was delivered to you at the wedding?”

“Nothing important.”

“If it’s not important, you can tell me.”

This isn’t a conversation I want to get into. “It was nothing, I don’t even remember it.”

Another flash of heat sears my skin as Piotr spanks me with the belt once more. Tears stream down my cheeks.

“It was just a message.”

“Saying what?” Piotr demands.

I breathe in sharply. “Does the Pakhan know what a slut his new wife is?”

Burying my face in the mattress, I cry in earnest. I don’t want Piotr to know about what happened between me and Dario. I hate that some faceless asshole has called me a slut. That term cuts right through me because it’s the last thing I am.

The bed dips as Piotr sits next to me. He gently rolls me over so I’m lying on my back. I hiss as my undoubtedly swollen ass hits the mattress.

“Why would anyone say such a thing about you,malyskha?” he asks gently. “Why would anyone think that?”

“I don’t know.” I bring my bound hands down to cover myself as he brushes the hair from my face, making me feel cared for in a way I didn’t think he’d be capable of.

Amazingly, he doesn’t press me for more information. He seems to understand I’ve reached my limit and can’t take any more. He unties my wrists, then pulls me onto his lap. I sob against his chest for a minute, wetting his shirt as I purge the emotions I’ve built up during a stressful week.

“I like you this way,” he says.

I look up at him in shock. “You like me crying?”

He shakes his head. “No. I like you soft, seeking my comfort.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what to make of that. An awkward silence grows between us. “Are we going to fuck now?”