44

Maxim
Sasha freezes in place at my threat then closes the door.
She fucking played me.
Women. You can’t trust them. They lie and manipulate. She just gave me the hottest blowjob in the history of all blowjobs, and I stupidly thought it meant we were getting somewhere.
But no. It was all a manipulation.
Damn her.
I sit up in the bed and swing my legs over the side. “Come here.”
She lifts her chin. “I’m fine where I am, thank you.”
My lips twitch, but I suppress my smile. I shouldn’t be amused by her fear. Except it makes my cock lengthen, thoughts of elaborate sex-filled punishments floating into my brain and smoothing out my temper.
I pat the bed beside me. “Come here, caxapok,” I coax. “I don’t bite hard.” I smirk. “Not you, anyway.”
Her jaw flexes, but she drops her large purse and walks over to the bed like I asked.
She’s a good girl at her core, I remind myself.
Or maybe not. I’d interpreted her virginity that way, but perhaps that’s just another part of her feminine manipulations. She’s never given herself to anyone because she doesn’t share. She uses blowjobs to ensnare men into her web, but they never get the prize.
I grind my teeth.
“Where were you going?”
Her haughty spoiled girl expression comes into place as she opens her mouth, and I snap, “Don’t fucking lie” before she gets a word out.
She closes her mouth again, flickers of fear and vulnerability in her expression.
“The truth,” I insist. “Or maybe that was the wrong question. Maybe the right one is, why were you leaving?”
She blinks rapidly, looking away. Her full lips shape a pout, and I find I want to kiss the fuck out of them, remembering how they looked stretched around my cock. “I… I just needed some space,” she admits with a sigh.
I’m torn between irritation and understanding.
“Space is a luxury neither of us have right now,” I snap then rein in my impatience. “Listen to me. Your father just died. There’s instability in the organization-massive instability. You inherited the biggest part of his wealth. I imagine there are dozens of men scheming about how to make a grab for that right now before the dust settles. Your father bound you to me for a number of reasons. One, marriage to me takes you out of the country, which makes it significantly harder to plot to kill you. Two, I know how to keep you safe. Many men in Moscow will remember my reputation.” I draw a finger across the ink on my knuckles, a mark for every kill.
She sits unmoving, those pouting lips taunting me.
“I have Dima working on tracking everyone who comes into the country from Russia and cross-referencing them with known members of the brotherhood. He’s writing a program for it now, but until that’s in place and until we see how things shake out in Moscow, I need to keep eyes on you at all times. I’m sorry, sugar. I’m not thrilled with it, either.”
Her gaze drops, and I sense her concession.
“Come here.” I loop an arm around her waist and drag her to sit on my lap. She sits stiffly at first. I pick up her leg and open it wide, so it sits on the outside of my knee and trace my fingertips lightly up her inner thigh. She shivers, her buttocks tensing over my cock.
She’s in another one of her body-hugging dresses-not the one she wore last night. This one is more casual, made of a soft, charcoal t-shirt material. It rolls up her thighs when I nudge it.
“I don’t know if you’re punishing me or you want to be punished, sugar, but you have to find another game. This one is too dangerous, da?”
She draws in a shaky breath. I do have an affect on her-that much I know. Last night, despite her very bold and in my face move of taking off for Los Angeles, she was nervous when I showed up. I sensed her trembling when she launched herself at me on the dance floor.
I continue to lightly tickle the inside of her thigh, tracing my fingers up and down, getting a little higher each time.
“Where were you going, Sasha?”
“I’m not ready to leave L. A.,” she says. I feel the thrum of her wild heartbeat through her back.
“No?” I nuzzle her neck, brushing my lips against her skin. “Then all you had to do was ask to stay. You think I could deny you anything after that life-altering blowjob you just gave me?”
“I shouldn’t have to ask,” she mumbles.
Before my temper flares, I remember how free and happy she looked last night with her friends. It’s true. She should be out living her life the way she wants. Finding her own joy. “You shouldn’t,” I agree. “But that’s not our reality. When things settle, I’ll let the leash off-I promise. Until then, you’ll work with me on this.”
She squirms on my lap.
“We can stay another day.” I let my finger brush the gusset of her panties, and her belly shudders in. “What did you want to do while we’re here?”
“I want to see my friends again.”
“Of course.”
“And go to the beach. And shopping.”
I slide my finger under her panties to brush over her soft flesh there. “I have a few items to shop for.” I use a musing tone. “Things I need for your punishment. Implements to spank you with.” Her ass tightens on my lap. “Things to put in your virgin ass. Some lube, so you can take my cock nice and deep. Rope to tie you up with.”
I seem to have rendered her speechless. I’m not even sure she’s breathing.
“Now turn around and give me one of those apologies you offered me last night.”
She doesn’t move for a few beats. Then her head turns slowly. She stands and rotates, straddles my lap. “Was it this?” There’s a purr in her voice-but also enough vulnerability to keep me from annoyance with her act. Afterall, I asked her to perform it. She brings her lips to mine in what is a very sweet kiss. Not timid, but not aggressive. Almost… innocent.
I know she’s not that innocent, but I suddenly wonder if she’s held her kisses back from other men, as well.
Many people who hate intimacy engage in sex without kissing. My suitemate, Pavel, for example.
I kiss her back, holding her jaw to deepen it. She squirms on my lap. I grab her ass with my other hand and yank her hips over mine, so her core rubs over my hardening cock. She rocks her pelvis, riding me.
When I ease back, she blinks at me, eyes dilated.
“It’s time for your punishment.”
Her gaze is a mixture of wariness and arousal.
I bring her hand to my lips and kiss it. “I’ll make it brief,” I promise. “And there will be a reward for your surrender.”
My words have the opposite effect intended. Now she really appears unsure. I imagine her pride makes surrender less appealing than pain. I lower my head and bite her breast through her dress. “This comes off.” I’m already tugging the dress over her head as I finish speaking.
She doesn’t fight me. She still straddles my lap, slightly sullen, slightly submissive.
Very sexy.
It sort of hits me for the first time.
This fuck-hot woman is my wife. She is the full package in the looks department-blessed with a brick house body, a movie star face, and gorgeous, thick natural auburn hair. She could make it as an actress. Of course, her marriage to me keeps her from that career.
She’s full of life and vitality-sassy as hell. A total handful.
But most importantly-all mine.
This hot-tease woman is mine.
I nip at her breast through her bra as I unfasten it in the back. She rocks over my cock again in her tiny g-string. I kiss the front of her shoulder and then urge her to stand.
I pivot and plop a couple pillows in the center of the bed. “Panties off. Lie over the pillows.”
Alarm flares in her eyes. “What are you going to do?”
I honestly haven’t decided yet. I’m improvising. I walk around the room, noting my belt, which looks too thin and whippy. There’s one of those plastic rods hanging from the curtains-the kind used to pull them open and closed. I detach it and smack it into my hand. It bites. It would make an impression.
She still hasn’t climbed into position. I suspect she’s ready to punch me in the nose and run if she doesn’t like my answer.
“I’m going to give you three strokes with this rod. And then I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you.”
Her chest heaves with a breath, making her gorgeous tits shift.
I step in close-seductive, not stern. I brush her hair back and kiss her in the place where shoulder meets neck. “You saved yourself for me,” I murmur, appreciatively.
She takes a half-step back. “Not for you.”
“For me,” I insist. “We both wanted each other then, and we both had to wait.”
She inches closer to me, that same wary lust flickering in her eyes. “I didn’t say I would have sex with you.” She sounds breathless.
I step so close, her nipples contact my chest. My mouth hovers over hers. “I won’t force you.”
Her gaze searches mine.
I allow my lips to tilt upward. “I will punish you, though. The fucking is the reward.” I let my hand lightly cup her ass.
She shivers and brings her hands to my chest like she’s going to push me away, only she doesn’t. “You’re crass.”
“Apologies.”
“You’re not sorry.”
“Are you?” I cock a brow.
She shakes her head slowly.
“Hmm.”
We’re at an impasse. I can’t decide if I should actually follow through with punishment-not without some clearer indication of consent. The other times she wanted to be spanked-she basically asked me for it.
“Surrender, Sasha,” I coax.
She eyes the implement in my hand. “Only three?”
“I’ll be gentle.”
Another shiver runs through her, and she promptly climbs onto the bed.
Satisfaction makes my cock punch out straight. I test the rod a few times on my thigh to get the force right, then whip her once with it.
She lets out a squeal-the cutest fucking squeal I’ve ever heard in my life. Once again, a surge of pleasure rushes through me.
This is my wife.
She’s mine.