Page 41 of Sexting My Bratva Boss
“I hired you because the moment I saw you I wanted to wreck you. In front of all those men, if I could have the choice. I wanted toownyour pussy.”
My hand covers her shoulder, the junction where it meets her neck just above her collarbone. Applying pressure, I make it clear what I want from her.
If she resists I can crush the muscle.
Audrey stares into my eyes hopelessly, the anger extinguished by fear. She lowers herself until she’s kneeling in front of me and I move my hand from her shoulder to her throat.
Banishing thoughts of what I could do to her from this angle, I focus on the task at hand: putting the fear of God—no, of Konstantin Martynov—in her.
“I own you, Audrey. If I decide you no longer work for me in this office, you no longer work for me. You are not to question this.”
I drop to my haunches. Audrey flinches away from me, but I hold tight to her throat, putting just enough pressure that she can’t pull away without hurting herself.
That’s the lesson I want her to learn:If she leaves, she’s doing this to herself. If she leaves, I can’t redeem her.
“You’ve been lying to me. Since the day I brought you in here and made it clear that I knew you were stealing from me, you’ve lied.”
“I—I didn’t lie, I just can’t tell you?—”
“An omission is the same as a lie.Youhave been helping my enemies, Audrey. That’s all I can assume if you refuse to tell me why you’ve stolen just shy of one hundred thousand dollars.” I lean in close, tightening my grip enough that she stumbles forward on her knees to relieve the pressure. “I don’t think it was a coincidence that you were at the construction site. Someone got lucky; they didn’t know that I would decide you were mine. But they put you there for a reason, didn’t they?”
Her eyes are glassy with fear, but her lips stay pursed, colorless.
Standing, I stare down at her, finally starting to get truly angry with her.
“Beg.”
“Wh—what?”
She rocks back onto her heels, falls on her ass. It rucks up the pencil skirt she’s wearing in an obscene way, her luscious thighs exposed.
“Beg me to give you mercy, and I might.”
Swallowing, she whispers, “Please…”
I wait.
“Konstan—Mr. Martynov, please. Please forgive me. Or don’t forgive me—” Audrey corrects quickly when she sees my hand flex, “—just give me some time to make things up to you. I can, I promise. I’ll be good. I’ll do what you say.”
She drops her gaze to the floor.
The obedience from her shouldn’t turn me on. It shouldn’t satisfy me.
I would never,everlet anyone get away with what Audrey Wolfe has gotten away with.
“Stand up.”
She does, almost falling, and I catch her by the elbow. Pulling her close, I breathe in the warm scent of vanilla and citrus. It stirs something like regret in me.
What is this woman doing to me?
It feels dangerous.
It feels good.
“Leave. You’re done here.”
Audrey sucks in a breath, stumbling away from me. She catches herself on the back of a chair and then walks quickly out of the room. I circle around the desk and watch the small screen. On it, she gathers her things quickly, not speaking when one of the accountants—Chrissandra Ives—begins to talk to her.