Beyond Measure: A Dark Bratva Romance (Ruthless Doms)

by Henry, Jane

  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 hi
m, 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 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.

  “Behave,” I whisper, pulling her to me and kissing her forehead before I leave. And I swear to God when I leave that kitchen, I leave a little part of myself there with her. I don’t know how I’ve earned this woman. What I’ve done in my life should have earned me damnation, not this sweet woman that calls me husband.

  I go about my business, and I don’t realize I’m only half paying attention until Nicolai waves a hand in front of my face and snaps his fingers.

  “Where the hell are you, brother?” he asks. “Did you hear a word I said?”

  “Sorry,” I tell him. “Please repeat it.”

  Yakov snorts and elbows Nicolai. “Someone needs to get back to his wife, I think.” He winks and says something filthy in Russian that I only catch the end of, but it’s something about my body being here and my cock somewhere else.

  “You two want to join Ilya in the kitchen?”

  Nicolai laughs and Yakov snorts out loud. “You sure you want Ilya in the kitchen, Tomas? Didn’t you send your new wife there? You want her scrubbing potatoes with a new recruit?”

  Christ, I didn’t think of that. I ignore their laughter as I leave the room and head to the kitchen. No, I’m not sure I want some fucking recruit flirting with my wife. If he gets too close to her, he’ll have another kind of punishment to face, much harsher than the one he does now.

  I push the doors open to the kitchen and freeze. No one sees me at first, and I unexpectedly get a glimpse of Caroline from another angle.

  Large picture windows illuminate the room, and she stands in a pool of sunlight while rolling out dough. She’s laughing easily with a young, petite brunette by her side, and a small circle of employees stand around her. She’s directing them to add ingredients to a large mixing bowl, and I muse at their rapt attention on her instructions. They love her already. I can see it in the way they talk to her, how easily they laugh and how everyone is eager for her instructions.

  It takes me a minute to find Ilya, who’s far off in the corner of the room with a massive pot of potatoes and a pile of peelings. He’s scowling. I walk over to him before I interrupt Caroline. His reaction to my presence will be telling.

  “Good job. What have you done today?”

  He looks up at me in surprise, and he immediately bows his head. “Sir. I didn’t see you come in.” He clears his throat and straightens. “I’ve done everything Caroline asked of me.”

  Caroline?

  “Oh?”

  “She said we needed ten pounds of potatoes peeled, and I’m almost done.”

  I nod. “Well done. And did you secure your girlfriend?”

  “I did, sir. She’s in a room on the second floor. I haven’t seen her yet, bu
t Yakov assured me she’s well taken care of.” I like this new recruit. He may have fucked up, but he’s making amends for his mistake, and he shows meekness, a necessary trait.

  “Well done. And what was your lesson in this?”

  “Do the duty assigned me, sir.”

  “Always. One thing you’ll learn about our brotherhood is that your brothers will defend you to the death. Your honor, your integrity, your life. They’re your family.”

  He nods humbly, pausing in his work. “I’m sorry, sir. I promise you; it won’t happen again.”

  I believe him. “Good. After you’ve finished your job, you may leave for today. Nicolai will assign you your next duty.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I turn to go to Caroline, but he stops me. “Sir?”

  “Yes?”

  He looks to Caroline, and his eyes darken, the first indication that this man has earned his place in the Bratva. He can be ruthless when necessary. “It would be an honor to punish those who hurt her.”

  His comment takes me by surprise, but my reaction even more so. My heart squeezes. My beautiful wife, so afraid that others would scorn her for her scars and imperfections. But just by simply being the beautiful woman she is, she’s already earned her way into the hearts of my men and my staff.

  “When the time comes, I’ll have Nicolai give you instructions,” I tell him. “Until then, prove your allegiance with obedience.”

  He nods, and I swear he almost salutes me like a soldier, he’s that rigid and serious. “Yes, sir.”

  I go to Caroline next. During my discussion with Ilya, the staff have realized that I’m here, and Caroline stands just a few paces away, smiling at me. Her hair is a mess, her makeup long gone, she has flour on her nose and her apron’s smattered with the telltale signs of cooking, but she’s never been more beautiful to me.

  I crook a finger and hold my breath when she walks toward me.

  I could love this woman. Hell. I may already.

  When she reaches me, she unfastens her apron and hangs it on a hook, then brushes her hair off her forehead and sighs.

  “You caught me in the middle of some big doings,” she says with a smile. “I hope you’re hungry tonight.” She seems proud, and that pleases me. I haven’t known her for long, but I suspect Caroline hasn’t had much to be proud of or much to look forward to. I want this for her.