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“First, I’m going to spank you with my hand for the lies you’ve already told. Then I’m going to ask you some questions and use this belt on your ass every time you lie to me again.” I crook my finger, beckoning her closer. “Now come here. I want you out of that dress.”

Olivia doesn’t move. She wrings her hands together and swallows so hard I hear the gulp from across the room.

“Come here, Olivia.”

She shakes her head. “I can’t do this.”

“Of course you can, malyskha .” I hold my hand out to her. “What happened to the woman who’s stood up to me all this time? What happened to feisty Olivia, who made me wait for her and refused to promise to obey me? Was she another lie?”

Olivia closes her eyes. She hunches over her shoulders, and an air of defeat surrounds her. I hate to see her like this, but she soon composes herself. She breathes in deeply and then looks up at me with enough fury in her eyes to make a weaker man piss himself. That’s the woman I want.

“Let’s get this over with.” She marches toward me and spins around to offer me her back. “You’ll need to help me out of the dress.”

“With pleasure, malyskha .”

The delicate fabric of her gown is held together by a hundred tiny pearl buttons. My fingers are too big for the task of unfastening them. I only open two of them before I realize this will drive me insane. Taking the knife from my pocket, I flick it open. Olivia turns to me with startled eyes.

“Don’t look so frightened, malyskha . I’m going to cut the dress, not you.”

“I like this dress,” she protests.

“So do I.” The gown is stunning on her, the soft white beautiful against her lightly tanned skin. “But it’s in my way.”

“And you destroy anything that gets in your way?”

“Hmm, you know me well.”

Olivia huffs. “I don’t know you at all.”

“You’ll know me a lot better by the time we’re done here.”

A shiver runs through her body as she takes my words as a threat. I’m not sure if I meant them that way. I put a hand on her shoulder to hold her steady as I slide my knife between the delicate fabric of her dress and her skin.

“Hold still,” I warn her. “I’m not opposed to a little blood play, but I suspect you’re not ready for that.”

Olivia gasps in horror. She needn’t worry.

I was only trying to get a reaction out of her.

I have no desire to cut her beautiful skin, so I take great care not to nick her accidentally as I slice through the back of her dress, right down to her hips.

She shimmies out of what’s left of the gown and steps clear of the fabric that pools at her feet.

She turns to face me. In her white strapless bra, panties, and lace-topped thigh-high stockings, my bride takes my breath away.

“If I’d known you were wearing this beneath your dress, we’d have left the wedding a lot earlier.”

I make a circular motion with my finger, instructing her to turn for me. She spins around quickly, denying me the chance to take in every inch of her as I wanted to.

“Try that again,” I command. “Slowly this time.”

She does as I asked, rotating on the balls of her feet to perform a perfect pirouette.

My wife has incredible form. If I recall correctly, she said she was outside a dance class when she was subjected to the ordeal of an attempted abduction.

I wonder if she’s kept up her training as she’s gotten older.

“Beautiful,” I say when she comes to a stop.

Olivia’s body is lean, her limbs long and elegant.

She has a mole beneath her left breast, but no other obvious blemishes on her skin.

Her hair is still up in a knot, accentuating the length of her slender neck.

She’d be stunning even without the effort she puts into her hair and makeup.

But my wife plays the part of Mafia princess well and is never caught looking less than perfect.

Now that she’s my queen, she’ll continue the illusion in public. In private, I want something real.

“Let down your hair, malyskha .”

Olivia reaches up and removes the strategically placed pins keeping her up-do in place.

It’s not like in the movies, where a woman takes out a single clip and her hair tumbles over her shoulders.

It takes almost a minute for her to carefully pull out each pin.

When she’s done, she runs her fingers through her hair.

“What now?” she asks, a hint of defiance in her tone.

“Get on the bed. I want you facing away from me, head down and ass up.”

“Piotr!” She all but stamps her feet.

“Do it, Olivia, unless you want to incur more punishment.”

She sends me one last withering glare before turning and climbing up onto the bed. She gets into position with her arms beside her. I doubt she’ll have the self-control not to reach back when I spank her, so I remove my tie to bind her wrists.

“Hands above your head, wrists together,” I order her.

Olivia does as she’s commanded, but takes her own sweet time about it.

She makes a show of stretching her arms out over her head and then rotating her wrists before laying her hands down on the mattress.

The little brat won’t submit without a fight, but nothing good ever came easily and I’m prepared to put in some effort to have her where I want her.

She doesn’t utter a sound of protest as I wrap my tie around her wrists and secure it with a neat bow.

“How does that feel?” My intention is to prevent her from interfering with her punishment, not to cut off her circulation.

“Fine.” Her tone is one of supreme boredom. Let’s see how long that lasts once I get started.

Positioning myself at the side of the bed where I’m able to watch her face while I spank her, I draw my hand back and bring it down hard on her bottom.

Olivia exhales sharply as her flesh ripples beneath my palm.

If she imagined I was going to give her a few gentle taps to warm her up for my belt, she’s mistaken.

I want her to feel every bit of this punishment, to realize how seriously I take being lied to.

My palm connects with her firm ass four times in quick succession before I stop to admire the pink bloom on her skin.

“So pretty,” I murmur.

“Just get on with it,” Olivia snipes.

I hunch down low and grab a fistful of her hair, forcing her head back so she’s looking into my eyes.

“You think you’re in a position to make demands?”

Olivia glares at me for a minute, then lowers her eyes submissively. “No, sir. Sorry, sir.”

Her tone oozes sarcasm. I let go of her and push to my feet. Little minx. After her initial fear, she seems determined to prove she’s got a backbone. That’s commendable, but she may push it too far.

“Let’s see if you’re still mouthing off a minute from now, Olivia.”

I resume the spanking, lavishing attention on every part of her ass. My palm cracks off her left butt cheek and Olivia gasps. It’s a breathy little sound that shoots straight to my cock. I adjust my stance and pick up the pace, spanking her harder and faster. My beautiful bride squirms on the bed.

“Hold still.” At my command, she freezes. I pause for a moment as she burrows her face into the mattress. “Olivia, look at me.”

She turns to me, glowering through tear-filled eyes.

“Five more,” I say. Her ass is a fiery red now and her lips are twisted in discomfort.

Olivia doesn’t respond, but I didn’t expect her to.

She rests her face on the mattress and continues to scowl at me as I spank her quickly, four more times.

Her lips maintain their pout as she steadfastly refuses to make a sound.

There’s nothing she can do to stop the tears from falling, though.

I draw my arm back and bring my hand down across the width of her ass for the last time.

Olivia yelps, then quickly composes herself.

“You did so well, malyskha .” I am genuinely impressed by her fortitude. If she’d shown any signs of weakness during the spanking, I’d have gone easier on her, but it seems my bride is made of tougher stuff than most people realize. “Now for the fun part.”