by Rie Warren
The fact that he’d collected my med kit could’ve been a touching gesture. An acknowledgement that he respected my healing abilities even though I’d never been allowed to do official training. Everything I’d learned came from books and tutorials I poured over.
Yet his gesture wasn’t intimate. Maksim hadn’t brought over my supplies because he respected me.
He was thinking of the Bratva and the business only.
He stalked from me as if he couldn’t get away fast enough.
I retrieved the supplies and took a quick detour to the bathroom.
Beneath the lights that Lucia had picked out—the soft illumination kinder than most—I opened my robe and stared at my ribcage. A red suffusion flowered across my skin. It would become blue and purple then yellow before healing. My knuckles were raw too.
I prodded my ribs. Bruised, not broken.
The physical pain didn’t make a dent at any rate, it was the hurt from hearing all the awful truths about the end of my mama’s life that would now haunt me forever.
Rewrapping my robe, I splashed my face with cold water.
I stepped back into the nightclub, my eyes falling on the wedding cake we’d never even cut into.
Four beautiful tiers of frothy icing and real flowers just hours ago, the thing now teetered like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Someone must’ve banged into the decorative table during the fray. Like our marriage hadn’t already been doomed.
I tended to the soldiers, thankfully only four of them. They woke up after I administered a simple remedy Baba had taught me that added up to smelling salts.
They were no happier than I was.
Maksim marched around The Hammer, and I watched him from lowered eyes while I finished with the last soldier. He grumbled orders at the ones that had been incapacitated and gave more commands over the phone.
If I’d been in my right mind, we could’ve worked together to take out Oleg and his man. As it was, I knew I’d become just the sort of liability no Bratva man ever wanted to be chained to.
Even when I’d railed at Maksim—after going wildly on the attack—he’d kept a level head.
Within the hour, as the sun rose over the whole sordid scene, backup soldiers arrived. Maksim’s eyes grew narrower and narrower, his lips tighter, and I could tell he wasn’t pleased about having to rely on the help of others to keep me protected.
Finally, after making us as secure as possible, he stalked toward me.
He snagged my arm. “We are safe now. Come with me.”
Leaving the carnage that could’ve been worse, he hauled me up the stairs, punishing my arm in his grip because I hadn’t already been through enough apparently.
Inside the apartment, he slammed the door then swung me around.
Wrath made his irises look like iron forged over a hot fire. “How many men have you been with.”
“What in the world does that have to do with anything?” His question came completely out of left field. “You’re not actually accusing me of being with Oleg or something, are you?”
“This has nothing to do with Oleg.” Releasing me, he crossed his arms over his chest, assuming his most menacing stance. “You’re not a virgin, are you? Not with the way you gave me head last night.”
“I’m twenty-three years old, Maksim. Of course not.”
“Tell me! How. Many. Men?” His voice boomed louder and louder.
“Hardly any at all since you never give me any privacy!” I shouted back, his domineering attitude pissing me off so much I couldn’t even see straight anymore.
His hand whipped out and he pointed a finger at me. “Who’s been fucking you? I’m going to murder them with my bare hands.”
“You’ve lost your damn mind!” I scoffed and pointed right back at him. “It’s not like you’re a virgin and you’re only six years older than me.” I jabbed him on the bare chest—he hadn’t bothered to put a shirt on after the attack. “I know what you’re thinking . . . the rules are different because mafia life. I’m the printsessa so I’m supposed to be pristine until marriage. Bullshit to that.”
“You are damn right there are different rules.” Grabbing the sash of my robe, he yanked me up to his body. “For instance, I never should’ve taught you to shoot or allowed you to wield a gun.”
“You pompous jackass!” I was just about ready to kick his dumb ass.
“Don’t you ever touch my weapons again, Sasha.”
His stupid double standards about all things related to me enflamed me, but I knew I’d never get through to him like this.
I switched tactics so suddenly—arching hotly into him—he looked flummoxed.
His hands rode down to my elbows. His eyes squinted into silver flashes of confusion.
I ran my palms up his arms. “If I’m not allowed to touch your weapons, what can I touch, hmm? We’re married now, Maksim. And you haven’t once punished me the way you threatened for so many years. I’m old enough. I’m woman enough. I can take it.”
Tonight, he’d seen me at my worst.
I wanted—needed—him at his most base. Needed him to unleash the beast that barely hid inside. If only to feel something other than this jagged raw pain that had opened up inside of me.
He groaned, and I watched as the muscle at the back of his jaw clenched.
My oh my, had I affected the man? And, up this close, Maksim had blond specks in his dark stubble. I’d never noticed before, and I quelled the strong urge to lick his jawline now.
Jesus.
“Fine. You want that spanking you so thoroughly deserve?” His entire demeanor sharpened, turning perilously hard-edged.
Something even more dangerous than his powerful anger appeared in his irises . . . control.
“I will be happy to oblige,” he gritted out.
Still grasping my arm, he moved to the kitchen, hauling me with him.
He rummaged around in the back of a cupboard and withdrew a . . .
“But that’s a pizza paddle!” I quailed suddenly at the sight of the large wooden implement.
Maybe I’d bitten off more than I’d bargained for.
He let go of me to smack the paddle against his open palm once, twice, three times.
“Left from previous owners.” Flipping the paddle around, he ran the well-worn handle up the side of my neck while my heart knocked around in my chest. “Hand-fired and hot is what is engraved on the handle.” He used the instrument to brush down my spine and settled the thing at my ass as his hypnotic voice invaded my ear. “And that’s exactly what you are getting. One paddle for every year of your life and one for each year you took off mine.”
I tried to make a dash from him, but he captured me before I even got three steps away.
His arm banded around my waist, pulling me back to his body. “Nyet, wife. You will not run from me today or ever again.”
The silk robe drifted away like a whisper when Maksim tugged at it, the flowered pattern falling like petals over the floor until I was nude.
He snagged the sash and began lashing my wrists together.
His dark intonation came beside my ear, licking up sexy shivers on my skin. “I’d gag you too, but I might have plans for your mouth later.”
The wickedness of his voice echoed the glint in his eyes when he spun me, leading me to the sofa.
He settled down, and his fingers whisked softly across my bruised ribs. His gaze found mine.
“Did you check yourself out for injuries, Sashenka?”
“Yes.” I swallowed, speaking without forethought.
His hand swept upward, and he cupped the bottom of one breast.
A hiss left my lips, a foreign thrill shooting down to my pussy.
“And nothing was broken, da?”
I swallowed again over the scary tightening of strange arousal. “I’m okay.”
The wicked gleam returned to his eyes as his thumb brushed over one puckered nipple. “Good. But you won’t be for long.”
He deftly arranged e
verything within seconds. The paddle at his side, a cushion across his thighs, me draped over his lap with my bruised ribs resting on the pillow right next to the place where I’d stolen his hidden gun.
He had me ass up, legs spread, head down.
My face heated with the embarrassment of it all, especially when he patted my bottom with his bare hand.
“I won’t ask you to count. You will probably be in too much pain for that.”
“Oh thank you so much,” I muttered sarcastically.
WHACK!
The hot sting and heavy sound hit me so suddenly, I had to bite back tears. “You’re not even gonna warn me?”
“Nyet.”
“Maksim—”
Smack, smack!
“That’s not even sanitary! A pizza paddle!” I wailed.
Slap!
“Say one more thing, Sasha, and I’ll add ten more strikes to the punishment.”
“It hurts.”
My god. I was twenty-three years old. Twenty-three strikes? Plus however many he deemed he was due for making his life hell?
I’d never survive this punishment.
I asked for it.
More strikes lashed across my bottom and, boy oh boy, he made sure to cover all areas of both cheeks just like the sadist I’d accused him of being.
I shrieked, writhed, yelped, and still he didn’t stop.
At one point his hands soothed and then the pain shifted. It bloomed.
Pinpointed heat spread.
It grew.
The paddle was warm and rough, and for some reason I wished it was his bare hand that hit me so hot and harshly.
Sultry sobs I didn’t recognize whimpered from my throat.
I lapsed into a kind of trance. Of cool-tempered torture and plain pure heat. A strange acquiescence grew, then, improbably, arousal.
More blows . . . I’d lost track of the hits.
An ache borne of that impossible arousal made me push back for more. Controlled my body.
I wished the cushion wasn’t in the way so I could feel the hard sinews of his thighs. I wondered if he was turned on too.
And then he groaned.
And shifted.
And his hand moved to his lap.
I wanted to see what Maksim was doing. I wanted his cock and his cum in my mouth again.
I squirmed, moaning, Maksim taking more punishment from my body but somehow adding pleasure.
I hadn’t come last night, now I was on the verge.
The paddle flew away. Past my head and knocking something off the coffee table, and I didn’t care. All I knew was that both of his large hands cupped my ass. He spread my cheeks and his thumbs dipped down to my soaking wet center. Then his fingers rode up the seam of my bottom before returning.
“Ahh.” I shuddered, held immobile, unable to reach the ultimate peak.
“Fuck,” Maksim grunted out.
He flipped me over easily, like I weighed less than the cushion.
Dizzied by the sudden shift, I didn’t have time to right myself before he moved me again, straddling me across his legs without the cushion to separate us.
Tension wound across the ropey muscles of his shoulders. His hair tousled, his cheeks ruddy, he balled and un-balled his fists.
He looked as hot as my ass felt, and the hard ridge of his clothbound cock cruised along my soaking sex.
His cheeks slanted. His gaze dipped from my eyes to my breasts to my desperate pussy.
Maksim’s nostrils flared as if he pulled in my scent.
Then he said, “Now it’s time to punish this juicy cunt.”
10
Maksim
I COULD NOT EXPLAIN why I’d demanded Sasha tell me how many boys had fucked her before me. I could only promise I would be next . . . and last.
Oleg’s surprise appearance—the very fact he’d so stealthily invaded the club—pissed me off. Listening to him describe the woman he’d tortured then hearing the pizda so coldly recount Sasha’s mother’s murder . . . that had pushed me very close to losing my control.
But when Sasha went ballistic, I didn’t know how to stop her without hurting her, and I would never truly do that.
I’d been distracted when I took that shot on Oleg, trying to cover Sasha at the same time. That was why I missed the kill shot. Hell, I barely grazed him.
Worse, Sasha had fucking disobeyed me again. She’d come face to face with Oleg, and the asshole appeared to have serial killer tendencies not just a kidnapping fantasy. She could have been harmed, maimed, murdered on my watch.
I could’ve been mopping up her blood right now.
Now I was forced to bring in a bigger soldier presence, which made it look like I couldn’t handle the situation myself.
My rage hit redlining levels.
I was finally taking it all out on Sasha.
I had spanked her with the paddle thirty-three times, but not all of those whacks were as harsh as I could’ve been.
There was no need.
By the time I reached strike number fifteen, she was already wet and writhing, and my cock was hard long before then.
The ass spanking finished, I repositioned her so she straddled my lap, her legs pinned out wide.
She was gorgeous when she was silent like this—slightly tranced out and softly panting. In fact, not a single word had come out of her mouth from the moment I’d told her the punishment would be exponentially worse if she didn’t drop the attitude and backtalk.
Sitting naked across my thighs with her hands bound behind her, she stared at my mouth. Perhaps she was wondering if I’d use my lips and my tongue on her, but that was not what I had in mind now.
“Now it’s time to punish this juicy cunt.” My voice came out brusquely, but my touch was light.
I ran one palm down the center of her body, between her breasts, avoiding the high color of her nipples.
Her belly quivered when I crossed her flesh, and her hips opened even more. She angled her lush, pink, wetness toward me.
Wrapping an arm around her waist, I struck. I hit her pussy not with the paddle but with my bare hand.
“Maksim!”
Today I’d give her the release she ached for because I wanted it too. But first I wanted to show her pleasure and pain weren’t mutually exclusive.
I spanked her eager cunt with the flat of my palm, making sure the softer blow fell across her clit.
Heat rose from my hand and her pussy, and I slapped again. Her breath hitched, moans sticking in her throat.
Her areolae pinged up, even more florid.
Her slickness tripled.
My mouth fell to her neck on the next spank, and I sucked and licked at the column of her throat.
Her aroma surrounded us, her hair dancing upon my forearm, her ass dancing on my lap.
Hooking my fingers into the sash tying her wrists together, I made her bow even further back until she created a sinuous arch with her tits thrust out and her sleek cunt tipped up.
Her nipples red and begging to be sucked, I latched onto one at the same time I slid two fingers into her heated clasp.
She came instantly, bucking against me, but I held her down as my fingers slid in and out of her wet heat.
She came again as soon as I pressed lightly down on her clit with the pad of my thumb. And Sasha climaxing was a fucking glorious sight.
Her tummy rippled and her lips parted and just a sliver of her pale blue irises showed beneath the heavy fringe of her lashes.
I needed to come too.
I let her ride my fingers as long as she needed before lifting her from my lap and settling her onto the sofa. Ripping my jeans open and down to my thighs, I got my cock out, grunting as I spread the spilled precum around.
“Let me.” Sasha—with her hands still tied behind her back—slid off the sofa and situated herself between my spread thighs.
“Da.” But I wanted more than her mouth that time.
When she began to lower her lips over my bulging cock
head, I shook my head. “Nyet. Push your tits out for me.”
She drew in a gasp, eyes flashing with heat.
She arched her back, offering me her big breasts. “Like this?”
“Yes.” My voice sounded gravelly, and I grunted like an animal as the color of her areolae darkened even more.
Gripping my dick, I rubbed the slippery length all over her juicy orbs.
Sasha moaned, and we both watched the lewd show while I soaked in the silken feel of her female flesh against my hard shaft.
I started tapping the globes with meaty thwacks then prodded her deep red nipples with my piercing.
Shivers bolted down my spine, heat settling in my heavy balls.
“Please, untie my hands,” she asked in a throaty tone.
“Why?” I pressed into the warm clasp created by her deep cleavage.
“I want to touch you. Need to touch you.” Arousal fevered her eyes, making the icy blue look like sheets of glass.
With my dick sandwiched between her tits, I reached around and loosened the sash.
Then I did something I’d never even considered before. With the silky belt in my hands, I wrapped the sash around her ripe globes, binding her breasts in a way that made them swell outward even more.
I stood up, looming over her.
Not for long.
Seeing her breasts thus bound, her nipples puffy and so red they looked rouged, I dropped down in front of her.
Her hands went for my cock as my mouth descended.
“My god. Your nipples.” I wet them, needing the engorged buds in my mouth.
I sucked on her swollen flesh, flicking with my tongue and moving from one to the other.
Sasha held both sides of my face, her head thrown back, giving me her flesh to feast on.
Then I had to . . . spit down into the crevasse of her cleavage, and she moaned.
She grasped my cock when I sat back down.
Sashenka slid my throbbing flesh between that velvety clasp and started giving me a soft, pillowy, perverse tit fuck.
I tangled my fist in her hair and arched her neck back.
A growl rattled my chest as I slammed my mouth over hers.
My cock drilled up and down through her heavenly flesh, my tongue swirling with hers.
A moan rippled from her when I leaned back again, sitting and watching and letting her service me.