Page 11

Dmitri

“You pout like a child.” I break through the thick silence of the car as I maneuver through the city to my condo.

Amelia sits beside me, one leg crossed over the other and her arms tucked tightly across her chest while staring out the window. Her bottom lip is even protruding slightly.

“Well, then you’ve married a child,” she shoots back at me. “I mean compared to your age, I guess I am.”

“Fifteen years isn’t that much.” And she’s definitely not a young twenty-four-year-old.

There’s an old soul inside her. She’s seen things in her young life that have aged her.

Lucas didn’t talk about his family often. Our business together rarely touched on our personal lives. Occasionally, he’d mention Amelia. Especially after his father had the good graces to die and leave her in Lucas’ hands.

When he spoke of her, it was as a proud older brother, especially when she graduated high school at the top of her class, missing valedictorian by a hair.

She had wanted to skip college and go to work for an addiction center on the south side of the city, but he’d put a stop to it, opting to help her set up the foundation and the Moreau Center, so long as she worked toward her bachelor’s degree.

He’d brought up the center when he had heard I was going to start merging some of my business with my cousins. The Romanovs deal with party drugs, and he wanted to be certain none of the cash I ran through his business had been dirtied by their hands.

Gun money was fine.

Drug money was off limits.

“Lucas was my guardian. Basically, my father.” She turns to glare at me. “You’re the same age as him. So… basically, you’re like my father now too.”

“Worse. I’m your husband.” I turn down an alley and head to the garage of my building.

“How is that worse?”

“Because after I’ve punished you, you can’t run off to sulk in your bedroom. You’ll have to stay and let me comfort you like a husband comforts his wife. And you’ll love that part.” I wait for the garage door to open before pulling through. “And you’ll hate to love it.”

“I don’t sulk.” She ruins her bravado by forcefully twisting away, giving me her back.

“No. Not at all,” I say as I pull into my parking spot and watch as the two SUVs behind me drive past the garage doors.

“Are those my spies?” she asks, noting me eying the rearview mirror as my men depart.

“If that’s what you want to call them.” I turn off the ignition and pick up my phone from the center console where it’s been charging.

Several texts have come through while I was driving, but I didn’t take them since she was in the car.

When she reaches for her door handle, I tap her knee and swish my finger from side to side. The annoyed huff she gives goes straight to my cock.

Who knew having a brat for a wife would be so much fun. Spanking the attitude out of her is going to be one of the most enjoyable events of our time together so far.

Keeping my phone in my hand, I climb out of the car and round to her door. She won’t be patient enough to wait for me, so I lean against her door to keep her inside while I scroll through the messages.

A shipment has been delayed at the Port of Novorossiysk. The reason behind the delay isn’t clear yet.

A gentle rapping on the window draws my attention from my messages to the woman I’ve trapped in the car. After sending off orders to get to the bottom of the problem, I slowly turn around to face my wife.

She’s pulled her hair up into a high bun, securing it with a hair tie she must have dug out of her purse. It’s messy and gorgeous at the same time. Just like her.

I open the door for her and hold out my hand, which she ignores and climbs out on her own. After shutting the door behind her, I gesture toward the elevators.

“I know today hasn’t gone the way we agreed it would, but I really did have to get to the center.” She tries for civility as the elevator takes us up to my penthouse.

“You have a full staff. I understand they need to let you know when an emergency happens, but you didn’t need to be there. They could have handled it themselves.”

“Well, that’s not how I do things,” she says, stepping in front of me. Again, she’s giving me her back.

“Most men would think twice before turning their back on me,” I say, reaching out to pick up a loose strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail.

Wrapping the dark lock around my middle finger several times, I tug, pulling her back a step.

She hisses and tries to swat my hand away, but I’m not going anywhere. And it’s about time she understands that.

“Dmitri.” She tries to twist around when the elevator door slides open, but I step forward, blocking her movements.

“I’ll give you the tour later. Right now, we need to have our second lesson in obedience,” I grate in her ear and push her out of the elevator and into the penthouse.

“I’m trying to explain. I wasn’t purposely avoiding meeting you. It was an emergency.” She reaches behind her head and grabs my wrist, not that it will do any good.

“You could have texted me that. You could have answered any of the numerous calls you pushed to voicemail. You could have waited for me to come meet you and help you take care of it. You could have done a lot of things. But you chose to ignore me. You chose to ignore our appointment. You chose this.” I pull my hand back and unleash a hard smack to her ass, propelling her forward a step.

The hair I have wrapped around my finger acts as a leash, and she curses the moment it’s tugged too tight.

“I didn’t choose any of this.” There’s an air of annoyance mixed with desperation in her tone.

I uncoil my finger from her hair, giving her only a moment of reprieve.

“You can explain yourself once you’re in position.” I grab her hand, lacing our fingers together, and pull her along to the winding staircase that will take us up to the second floor.

“What position? Dmitri, seriously, this isn’t necessary.” She keeps up with me step for step as I lead her down the hall to the corner suite.

“Is this really how you want to start our marriage?” she asks once we’re inside my room and I’ve let her go.

Her hands hook onto her hips, and I take a long moment to look her over.

The black slacks she’s wearing are wrinkled and barely dry as they cling to her ankles. Her shoes are probably ruined from walking around the flood water in the basement of the center.

“No,” I agree. “It’s not.”

“Good.” She sighs and smiles a little. “Like I said, I’m sorry, but it couldn’t be helped, really.”

I shake out of my suit jacket and toss it on the loveseat in the corner of the room.

“And we did get married, so I kept my part of the deal,” she continues as I strip the tie from around my neck and reach for the buttons at my throat.

Her eyes flicker to my hands as I methodically unbutton my shirt, pulling it from my trousers when I get to the bottom. As soon as I shuck out of the shirt, her gaze freezes on my chest.

An old scar runs across my chest from my midsection up to my right shoulder. The physician my father used at the time did what he could to sew up the gash. It had been a nasty wound, and saving my life had been prioritized over making the scar pretty.

“What happened to you?” She runs a feather-like touch along the raised, jagged scar.

“It happened a long time ago,” I assure her when her worried glance hits me. “I’m fine. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” I gently wrap my hand around her wrist.

“Who did it?” Fire burns in her question.

Does she plan to avenge me? A smile tugs at my lips with the mental image of her going into battle on my behalf.

She’d go into a fight for anyone she felt needed defending.

I cup her chin, bringing her gaze away from the scar. “I’ll tell you all about it after.”

“After?” She blinks, like she’s forgotten what’s lurking just ahead.

I smile. “Your punishment.”

She drops her fingers from my chest as though my skin has scalded her and retreats a step. “Dmitri. You can’t.”

Grabbing the straight-back chair from the vanity in the corner of the room I had brought in for her, I bring it to the foot of the bed.

“I assure you, I can.” I grasp the buckle of my belt, enjoying the tremble making its way through her expression when she realizes I’m removing it.

“You’re insane if you think for one second, I’m going to just let you?—”

“Going back on your vows already?” I question as I tug the leather strap free from the loops of my pants.

Her jaw drops at the sound, and I wonder if she’s ever truly been punished before.

The little spanking I gave her in my office was probably the first time she was ever held accountable. Lucas meant well, I’m sure, especially after the mess of their father, but he gave in too much to her.

The chair creaks when I sink onto it.

I fold the belt in half, and then half it again and fist it in my right hand. Resting my hands on my knees, I stare up at her.

“Come here, pull your pants and panties off, and lie over my knee,” I order as gently as I can, given my patience is wearing thin.

Silently, she shakes her head.

“Amelia, don’t make me come get you. Now. Come here.” I switch the belt to my left hand so I can offer my right to her.

Harming her isn’t my intention, but this is going to hurt.

Her eyes soften as the realization that there’s no way out of this except for through it hits her. She’s smart, pragmatic. If she runs, I’ll catch her, and it will be worse. If she refuses, I’ll come get her and it will be worse.

“Dmitri.” My name is used as a plea, but her hands have already moved to the button on her slacks.

Her face reddens as she pushes them over her hips, and they fall to her feet.

In silence, I admire the gentle beauty of her movements. She steps out of the clothing and her thumbs hook into the elastic of her soft lavender briefs.

A soft blush covers her face entirely by the time she stands beside me, her hands folded in front of her as though she could hide the sweetest part of her.

“Hands at your sides,” I say, brushing her arms away, revealing the small patch of curls.

Slowly, I drag my gaze up over her body to her eyes. She’s not meeting my gaze, settling her stare on my hand holding the belt.

“Dmitri, you can’t?—”

“If you tell me I can’t punish you one more time, I will have to prove to you exactly what I am capable of.” I rest my hand on her hip, drawing her attention back to my face. “And I never want you to see the monster I can be.”

Her throat constricts as she swallows again. For a moment, I think she’s going to beg me to let her go, but her expression hardens.

“Lie over my lap, Amelia. Ass up high for me.” I move my hand from her hip.

It’s important that her actions are on her own now. She won’t be able to tell herself I forced her over my knee. She won’t find any comfort thinking she didn’t participate.

Slowly, she steps closer to me until her knees touch my thighs before she bends at the waist, crawling over my lap.

She reaches out, grabbing for the chair legs when she’s low enough to keep from falling forward, then continues until her body drapes over my thighs.

Her ass—her beautiful, plump ass—rests on my right leg.

As I help settle her, slightly more toward my knees, her right leg pushes outward, giving me a prime peek at her pussy. Already her lips glisten with arousal. If I were to sink my finger inside her, I’d find her soaked and hot for me.

My cock, already hard and aching for her, presses with more urgency against the zipper of my pants.

“Why are you here, Amelia?” I force my tone to remain flat as I stroke my hand over her upturned ass.

Fuck, all I want to do is throw her on the bed and pound her until we both go blind from our orgasms.

“Because you have the emotional intelligence of a Neanderthal who can’t take an apology when it’s given.”

I freeze my movements.

“All right.” I move the folded belt into my right hand. She was given a chance.

She chose her road.

Her ass tenses as I raise my hand, but it’s no use. She cries out with the first lash. With the belt folded like this, its bite isn’t as sharp, but I’ll make do. Harder and harder I spank her, covering every inch of her plush ass.

“Dmitri!” Her right arm swings back at me, trying to cover her reddening cheeks with her hand splayed out.

Easily, I snatch it up into my hand and pin it to the small of her back.

“Tell me again, Amelia, why are you here? Why am I spanking you like a naughty little girl who can’t obey her husband?”

She huffs and for a second, I think she’s going to come up with another snarky remark.

“Because I didn’t tell you what was going on and I ignored your phone calls and text messages.” She sounds pained and it’s not from the spanking.

No, she hates that she’s in the wrong here and she’s having to admit it.

I don’t bother asking if she’ll do it again, because she will. We both know it.

“Good. Now we can start.”

“Start?” She tries to buck up at me, but I have a vise grip on her arm, and she’ll tumble to the floor before she’s able to get up.

To be sure she doesn’t go anywhere, I slide my right leg out from beneath her and lay it over her, trapping her.

“Dmitri! I already said I’m sorry! Let me up!” Her struggles continue and she does her best to twist out of my grip.

“No.” I emphasize my position by peppering her ass with strikes of the belt, leaving not an inch of her creamy skin untouched.

She howls as the belt lashes across the bottom of her cheeks. I move my leg down enough to get access to the tender spot where her thighs meet the sweetness of her ass.

The howling gets worse.

“I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!” she screams while still doing her best to wiggle off my lap.

So much for accepting her consequences.

“It hurts! Dmitri, it hurts so much!” Her voice cracks while stating the obvious.

“I know it does,” I say, slowing the smacks just enough that she can hear my words. “It wouldn’t be a punishment if it felt good.”

Pleasure can be found within the pain, but not like this. Not when the goal is to teach her. Later, when she’s not so willful, when she finally settles into her new life, I will show her how sweet the bite of leather can be.

Needing to feel the warmth of her skin beneath my hand, I drop the belt to the floor. Her ass is hot to the touch, and each swat of my hand makes her cheeks bounce. My cock strains for relief at the sight.

Slowly, the fight in her wanes.

“Amelia.” I rest my hand on her red, hot ass. “Have you learned your lesson?”

She sighs. It’s a sound of relief this time, not frustration.

“I won’t ignore your calls and if we are to meet, I’ll be there. Or at least talk to you if I have to be late.” Her body softens and when she tries to pull her wrist from my grasp, I release her.

“Good girl,” I pat her ass gently, enjoying the bounce.

Moving my leg from on top of hers, I shift her position to straddle my left knee. The heat from her pussy radiates through my pant leg.

“Can I get up now?” she asks, but is already pushing her way off my lap.

Reaching down, I cross my arm over her chest and swing her up to my lap, making her straddle me.

Her face is flushed, her wet eyes wide as her ass rubs against the fabric of my pants.

“What are you doing?” she asks, blinking away unshed tears.

I reach between her thighs. “I’m making you feel better.”