by Jane Henry
“I’m telling you now,” she says, and it’s the first time her voice shakes. “He’ll come to me. He hasn’t let me go. Andros still thinks of me as his, and he will seek me out. Everyone knows I’m here now.”
“Over my dead fucking body,” I say plainly. “If the only way to ensure your safety from that monster is to kill him, my goal is clear.”
I don’t normally approve of cold-blooded murder. Even among thieves and criminals, we have a code of honor we abide by. Retribution and revenge are suitable reasons for murder. Andros has brought this on himself.
Yakov nods. “We’ll form a plan of attack,” he says. “You decide what you want, sir.” He bows his head to me. “I will hear and obey. Caroline, the brotherhood will avenge you. You are our family now. And no one hurts one of us without suffering the consequences.”
They are ready to follow me to battle. I will lay my life down not only for Caroline, but for every goddamn one of them. For my brothers.
My men begin to assemble. They’re prepared to follow my lead.
“Will you challenge him?” Nicolai asks. “Demand he show himself? Or do this personally?”
“First, we find him,” I say. “Location before action. Then once we do, we make our move.”
Caroline turns to face me and rests her head on my chest. Her exhale says what she can’t speak. This was hard for her to face, hard to speak.
“My girl is so brave,” I say in her ear, then while my men leave the room, I hold her without speaking. I have no idea what will happen when we attack San Diego. When I punish the men who hurt her. But I know that I won’t regret a fucking thing I do.
Chapter 14
Caroline
I had to see him in action. I wanted to see him as pakhan, the leader of these powerful men. I couldn’t sit in the room another minute, wondering where he was or what he was doing.
Okay, so technically, I wasn’t allowed out of the room. He did tell me to stay.
Maybe I don’t accept my role as captive bride, but willing participant. I may have been forced to marry him, but I’d like to retain some autonomy.
Or maybe a part of me wondered what would happen if I left. If he’d make good on his promise to punish me for disobedience.
I don’t know why I need him to. I don’t know why I need to test his mettle, to be sure he’s someone who will follow through on what he says. But I do.
It didn’t take long to find him. Though this place is large, it’s well structured, and it’s clear that social obligations are in one place and business in another. Or maybe it was even some intuition at play, but I found him within minutes.
He doesn’t know I heard everything. I sat in the shadows, unseen by any of them, while he reprimanded his new recruit for failing at his duty. He’s so stern and powerful when he commands his men, like an older brother, or lieutenant in an army. They defer to him with the utmost respect, and for some reason that makes me feel weirdly proud of him. He’s earned this position as leader, and it’s hot that others respect my husband.
And then he brought up Andros and Aren.
I’m almost sorry I disobeyed him, because I’d like to thank him for defending me. How, I’m not sure, but now he’s looking at me with displeasure.
“You stay right there,” he commands, while his men take their leave. He speaks to someone to his right and demands an update this evening. Finally, the last man leaves and it’s just the two of us in the room. I worry my lip.
He’s going to punish me.
I both fear and crave it.
I swallow hard, clear my throat, and busily begin very carefully inspecting one of my cuticles.
“Caroline.”
Tomas stands in front of a desk, still dressed in the formal attire from this morning, his arms crossed on his chest.
“Um. Yes? By the way, thank you for… for starting that,” I finish lamely.
He gives me one nod to acknowledge this, then clears his throat. “What did I tell you before I left the room?”
I bite my lip and shrug. “To stay?”
“And what did I tell you about obeying me?” I feel like a child with her hand caught in the cookie jar, but unlike childhood humiliation, this is laced with an understanding that complicates my reaction. My breasts swell, and there’s a decided tingle between my thighs. Though I feel young and chastened, his dominance stirs me to arousal.
I laugh nervously. “Oh,” I say, trying to make light of this. “You did say something about me earning a spanking?”
His furrowed brow and narrowed eyes only make my heart beat faster. Without a word, he crooks one finger at me.
It suddenly dawns on me that not only does he fully intend on punishing me as I suspected, but he’s going to do it here.
Ohhhh, no.
But he’s sitting there waiting for me, all sexy as sin in his suit, waiting for me.
“Now, Caroline.”
Gah.
I walk to him on shaking knees, not so sure how I feel about this. When I reach him, he takes me by the chin and holds my gaze with his.
“I don’t think you fully understand how vital your obedience is. Do you, little detka?”
I shrug. “Maybe not?”
He nods, as if contemplating my demise. “Perhaps I should take you back to the room and show you exactly what happens to little girls who don’t know how to obey.”
I laugh nervously. “Oh… I don’t know if I need a demonstration. I can… imagine.”
“You need a demonstration.”
Eep.
His nearly playful scolding takes on a suddenly serious edge. “Did you hear me command my men to prepare for battle against your brother?”
I swallow hard. “I did. Yes, sir.”
Nodding, still grasping my chin, he continues, his tone razor-sharp.
“Did you hear my men initially question your sincerity?”
I did. I nod, my voice smaller now. “Yes, sir.”
“It is vitally important that we unite our forces in what we face, Caroline. And they will not readily defend a woman who doesn’t obviously defer to her husband’s authority. We have a hierarchy here, one not even my men will disrupt, for the lives of everyone here are on my shoulders. Even yours. Do you understand?”
Now that he puts it that way, I feel ashamed that I left the room.
“To be honest, I didn’t understand that, Tomas, but now I do.”
He nods. “And will you do better next time?”
“Of course. I’m so sorry.”
“Good girl,” he says. “I will consider that when I punish you.”
Oh my God. He’s still going to punish me? My heart races in my chest and my palms grow sweaty. There’s an inexplicable, expectant pulsing low in my belly.
“Is that still necessary?” I ask, my voice strangely high. I feel I need to at least try to defend myself. “I mean, we’ve already come to an understanding, and I’m not a child.” Now that I’m on a tangent, I can’t stop myself. “And frankly, I would like to remind you that I’m not your captive, but your wife.” I have talked myself into becoming indignant. “And remember, I was the one that convinced them. And to be honest, I don’t think you really have the right to punish me.”
Weirdly, in my heart of hearts, I don’t want him to let me off the hook. I want to know he’s a man of his word. And I’m quite curious about this whole punishment thing.
His brows raised, he releases my chin and reaches for his waist.
“It is absolutely necessary. You’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole now, Caroline.” I freeze at the sound of his belt being unfastened. “Lift your skirt and bend over the desk.”
“Tomas,” I whisper. “Here? Anyone could see.”
I’m suddenly dizzy with anticipation and fear.
“Good. Let them see what happens to the wife of the pakhan when she disobeys. Now, I will not tell you again.”
With a tug, he removes his belt from his waist and folds it over, then points
to the desk with the looped end.
I don’t know how I do it. I’m so in over my head with this. I’m all kinds of scared and turned on and embarrassed, but somehow my body obeys despite my misgivings.
Because I know I need to do this.
I’m like a junkie waiting for her next hit. Chasing the high I get when he punishes me. Testing his resolve.
I obey. I’m aware of how vulnerable I am like this, where literally anyone could see me. Once I’m bared to him, I gingerly place myself over the desk and grasp the edge. I feel like I’m on display for everyone to see, though we’re technically alone in here. What if someone walks in?
“Is this part of your kink?” I say over my shoulder. “Do you like the idea of anyone seeing me like this?”
“Oh, so now’s a good time to mouth off, is it?”
“I just don’t know… I mean, really, Tomas… anyone could come in, and I—”
“I like the idea of my wife obeying me,” he says sharply. “And knowing that disobedience will bring about swift punishment.”
“You remembered my admonition about the panties,” he says with approval, making me squirm with arousal and apprehension. “Good girl.”
“I am trying, sir,” I say, just before the leather lash whistles through the air.
I hiss and make a sound like a little squeak, but it doesn’t hurt quite as badly as I thought it would. It’s more like an erotic burn, leaving heat and arousal in its wake.
“As my wife, I’ll expect you to obey,” he lectures in that deep, growly voice, before another hard stripe of his belt lands across my ass. This hurts worse than the first, and I’m closing my eyes to brace for another spank. “And I don’t need a reason to punish you, little datka. Give me a reason, and you’ve made my day.”
The leather slices through the air again, and again, and again, painting my ass with throbbing heat, but it ignites something else within me, molten and simmering just below the surface as he lectures and corrects. He’s strong. He’s capable. And he’s ferociously possessive.
My husband.
I’m panting by the time he’s done, vaguely aware of him lacing his belt back through the loops on his pants. His large, calloused palm caresses my scorched ass, and he squeezes. I come up on my toes from the pain and intensity.
“Tomas,” I breathe. “Oh, ouch.”
“Learned your lesson, then, wife?”
“I have.” I part my legs, giving him an open invitation.
“And what is it?”
“If you tell me to stay put, stay put.” He doesn’t touch me between my legs, and I’m dying for some relief and pleasure. I spread my legs wider.
“Is there something else you need besides a good spanking?” he asks.
I shrug. “Well… you know…” My voice trails off. I’ll die if I have to tell him.
“Not every spanking will end with orgasm,” he says firmly. “Though it pleases me to know you’re aroused with punishment, arousal isn’t my only purpose.” Grasping my hips from behind, he grinds his crotch against my throbbing backside. I smile to myself when I feel his erection. He likes this as much as I do.
There’s a world of possibilities, really.
“Be a good girl for the rest of the afternoon,” he says, stepping back. “I have a few things to show you. If you behave, I’ll grant you that pleasure you want when we get back to our place. Understood?”
I sigh but do as he says, even though I want to stomp my foot. I know that won’t get me anywhere. Plus, I’m curious what he wants to show me.
I pause at his chuckle. “Are you laughing at me?” I ask incredulously.
“Laughing at you? No, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re just adorable when you pout.”
I furrow my brow and let my lower lip stick out, not even bothering to hide my pout. “Am I?” I actually like how it feels to let myself relax like this. To not have to put on a brave face and be all grown up about it. He punished me, and it hurt. I want to come, and he won’t let me yet. I just told the men here about what happened to me, and we’re all on the cusp of war. My emotions are many and varied.
Turning me to face his chest, he laces his arms about my back and pulls me to him. I didn’t expect this tenderness after my punishment. “So adorable it makes me want to punish you all over again just to see that pouty lip.”
I make a little mewl of protest.
“Sir,” I say. “I’m good now.” I lay my head on his chest. “I’m your good little girl.”
I don’t understand why I’m acting this way, all coy and playful, but there’s freedom in submission. When I let myself give way to him, despite his stern demeanor and heavy hand, I feel lighter somehow. As if the responsibility of even my thoughts can rest for a while, in the knowledge that he’s the one in charge. But I accept this. I grant him this authority.
“Such a good little girl,” he says, allowing me to burrow onto his chest. Tipping a finger under my chin, he lifts my gaze to his. There’s nothing but tenderness in his look, and kindness in his eyes. “I can’t help but want to kiss those pretty lips of yours,” he whispers, brushing his thumb over my lower lip.
In response, I let my lips part ever-so-slightly. He’s holding me upright, pressed to his chest, my body humming with need so intense I’m damn near dizzy from it, when his lips meet mine. At first, the kiss is tentative. Gentle. But as I sink lower into this, he deepens the kiss. I moan into him when his tongue finds mine, sending tingles of bliss through my body.
Groaning, he pulls away from me. “Beautiful,” he tells me.
I love you.
I’m shocked at the intensity of the words that come to me so quickly, so powerfully, I’m mute. I can’t possibly love someone I just met. But what is it about knowing that I’m his very special girl? That he’s literally just commanded his men to go to war for me, to avenge the wrong done to me? It’s somehow accelerated everything I feel, everything I need, right here in this moment.
I have to push it away, and I’m so intent on doing so I literally shake my head.
“What is it?” he asks. “What are you saying ‘no’ to?”
But how can I tell him I’m denying the feelings he evokes in me? That I’m a silly, wounded girl, who’s falling for him like a house of cards. One breath of air, and I’ll be completely at his mercy. Levelled.
“Nothing,” I lie, and I think it might be the first lie I’ve actually told him. “It was just a knee-jerk reaction.” I smile shyly and look down. “Honestly, sir, I love when you kiss me.”
I love him.
I love this fierce, unyielding, jealous man who acts as if I’m his most treasured possession. I love how powerful he is, how stern. Even watching him command his men made me love him that much more.
Oh, God.
I love him.
And then he does the very thing that will seal my devotion to him. My inner voice warns me not to fall so hard, to heed the warning of my vulnerable, wounded heart.
He takes me by the hand, his much larger hand completely engulfing mine. My body’s on fire, my mind is at war, and then I quiet a little when he says, “Okay, little detka. I’ve changed my mind for now. Let’s take you to the kitchen for just a little while.”
Chapter 15
Tomas
I have to meet with Nicolai and Yakov and make our arrangements. I know I do. But there’s nothing more I want to do than spend every moment with Caroline. So, I compromise. We’ll eat lunch before we part again.
I wish I had time to take her back to our bedroom. But there will be time for that. There has to be.
I never go to the kitchen, I hardly know them, but they know me. I step into the kitchen with Caroline by my side. There’s laughter and the sound of voices chattering good-naturedly. But when I enter the kitchen with Caroline, a hush comes over the kitchen staff.
“Mister Dobrynin,” says a tall woman wearing an apron, her hair pinned to the nape of her neck. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”
�
��I’d like to introduce you to my wife. Her name is Caroline.”
She takes Caroline’s hand and shakes it vigorously with both of hers. “Mrs. Dobrynin. So pleased to meet you. Welcome. I’m Lydia, head chef here.” She introduces her to the rest of the staff. Caroline literally glows with pleasure, grinning.
“So nice to meet you,” she says.
She’s fucking adorable.
“Caroline loves cooking, and I promised her that I’d allow her to work with you. Shortly I’ll go join my men, and I’d like you to welcome her to work with you.”
Lydia blinks. “Work in the kitchen, sir?” she asks. It’s unusual for anyone of my position to even step into the kitchen, and it’s almost shocking for my wife to join as well. Her staff looks at her expectantly while she processes my request.
“Whatever she wants,” I tell them. I want this abundantly clear how vital this is that they give her this, that no one treat her differently because she’s the wife of the pakhan.
I want everyone to love this woman.
Lydia nods slowly, then smiles at Caroline. “So you’ll be helping us prepare tonight’s dinner. Good. I can use an extra set of hands.” She waves her hand at someone at the back of the kitchen. “Fetch Mrs. Dobrynin an apron,” she orders.
Caroline shakes her head. “Please call me Caroline.”
I make a sound of disapproval. She’s not their equal, and I want her to remember that. She has a place of honor in this home.
But Caroline puts her hand on my arm and smiles at me. “Tomas,” she says, those eyes of hers melting whatever wall I’ve built to damn near nothing. “It’s fine. Please. Go, meet with your men and come back when you’re ready for me.” Holding onto my arms, she goes up on her tiptoes and kisses my cheek and right then, I’d give that sweet girl literally anything she asked for. She whispers in my ear, “We have business to attend to later.”
Christ, like I’d forget.