Chapter 13

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Aria

We sitin the same living room where just hours ago, I took my vows. My hand shakes holding the shot glass. When Mikhail pressed it into my palm and ordered me to drink, I drank. I didn’t see any reason to push back, not now. Not when I wanted something to soothe my nerves.

Not when he’s told me explicitly what his expectations for obedience are. What’s he going to do if he drugs me again? We’re…married.

Doesn’t mean he couldn’t take advantage or get creative, but…

Maybe I’m more naïve than I thought.

My dress is torn and my temple throbs. I’m trying to forget the sight of blood mixed with brains on concrete, but it’s not easy.

I could probably use more than a stiff drink.

“Mr. Romanov.” One of his staff stands nearby, likely waiting on the next instruction.

“Out,” he snaps in a tone so harsh I flinch. “Everyone’s dismissed for the night. Exit through the back door immediately.”

He’s…dismissed his staff for the night.

Interesting. They leave quickly with hushed voices, doors opening and shutting behind them.

He’s in worse shape than I am, but it doesn’t stop him from walking to the downstairs bathroom and retrieving a first aid kit.

I sip the vodka he promised me we’d celebrate with. God, this stuff is liquid fire. I let it hit my lips as he curses in Russian, filtering through the first aid kit until he comes up with a bottle of saline and some white gauze.

“Head back.”

I tilt my head back and grit my teeth. This will hurt.

I brace for the sting of pain, but it doesn’t hurt as badly as I anticipate. “Vodka’s an excellent anesthetic,” he murmurs as he dabs the gauze on my cut.

“Good to know.”

I’m sitting in an overstuffed leather chair, my arms barely reaching the armrests, my feet lightly gracing the floor. Mikhail kneels in front of me, glaring at the cut on my head as if it personally offends him.

“So,” I say. “Want to tell me what happened? Who were they?” I ask. He doesn’t answer at first, but after a quiet moment he blows out a breath.

“We have many enemies. My father’s cousin is our greatest. Fyodor Volkov’s notorious for having no use for modern conveniences like mobile phones. I sent him on a wild goose chase with decoys which delayed him, but he found us out. Since the men that were to report to him that we were already married are being buried as we speak, I’m guessing he didn’t get that memo. He sent his henchmen to fuck us up.”

I’m filled with sudden pride.

“And we fucked them up.”

A smile plays on his lips. “You were fucking brilliant, Aria.”

I feel my jaw drop in surprise, but I don’t speak. I’m afraid if I do, I’ll ruin this moment.

Praise from Mikhail Romanov? Be still my heart.

“It was nothing,” I say with a modest shrug even as my chest swells with pride.

“It wasn’t nothing.” His scowl makes me look away as I battle conflicting emotions. “I wouldn’t have been able to do what you did. It came so swiftly and naturally.”

I swallow and nod, surprisingly emotional about his praise. I’m not sure how that makes me feel.

It seems simpler…safer…if only I could continue to hate him.

“Well,” I tell him. “I’m good at what I do. You could’ve benefitted from my skills as a hacker probably way more than you’ll benefit from my skills as a wife.”

The bold, predatory look he gives me makes me draw in a breath and I wish I had somewhere to hide. I’m practically sweltering under the heat of his gaze.

“Maybe you should reserve your judgment on that,” he says in a low drawl I feel way, way, low in my belly.

My jaw drops. Did he just…go there? I set him up for that, though, and walked right into it.

I’m not good in bed. I have no idea what I’m doing, and we barely know each other. If he thinks — no.

“Maybe.” I swallow as he continues to doctor me with surprising patience.

Our voices echo in this enormous room. I haven’t been here long, but it’s already a little unnerving, not hearing any sounds other than the two of us in this enormous estate.

He presses damp gauze to my forehead and finally nods, as if satisfied.

“Now it’s your turn,” I tell him, rising and pointing to the seat.

“I’m fine.”

I snort. “You’re fine compared to who? I’m no doctor but I think it’s probably best you prevent…I dunno, infection or something by cleaning these wounds. And maybe we should…get some clean clothes.”

“Fine,” he finally agrees. “But we won’t be needing clothes.”

Je-SUS.Ack.

My injuries were superficial and his likely are, too, but I need him to take these clothes off.

“Does this sort of thing happen a lot?” I ask, as I turn my back to him so he doesn’t see the way my hand trembles when I put saline on the gauze.

“Yeah.”

So this is the world I’m in for. “Do you have a family medic or someone you trust?”

“Not yet. We will. Polina’s studying nursing.”

Interesting.

Armed with what I need, I turn to face him. “Alright, sir. Off with the shirt, please.”

The heat of his gaze skates across my skin. There’s stubble along his jaw that wasn’t there this morning. I have the sudden, compelling need to reach out and stroke it. I want to feel the rough prickle against my fingers.

“We only took vows a few hours ago. Already, you’re undressing me?” he says as he reaches for the buttons on his shirt.

I have to pretend the sight of his skin bared to me doesn’t make my belly dip. “Of course I’m undressing you. If I’m going to perform my wifely duty, you’ll have to perform your husbandly duty.”

I can’t believe I just said that. Why did I just say that? The sudden vision of me naked, flat on my back on his bed makes my cheeks heat— wait, there’s no way this man’s vanilla and favors missionary sex. My cheeks burn even hotter.

The sound of his chuckle hardens my nipples. Oh God, I haven’t heard him laugh before. A part of me wondered if he even knew how. His laugh is deep, dark, and wicked, as golden as his skin.

“My husbandly duty is teaching you your place, woman. Keeping you in line. Making sure you learn there are consequences for disobedience.”

“That’s old-fashioned and chauvinistic, you Neanderthal.”

“Your point?”

As he talks, I help him out of his shredded shirt, trying to steady the trembling of my hands fruitlessly. It doesn’t help that I’m met with the vision of his temptingly naked skin.

“We’ve gone over that,” I say with a haughty toss of my head.

Small talk helps distract me from the fact that he’s getting naked in front of me.

I stare at his flawless arm, the sculpted biceps and sturdy forearms with visible veins beneath his tanned skin. His rugged hand rests casually on his knee, fingers strong and fingertips calloused.

When he shrugs out of his second sleeve, his ragged shirt falls, a tiny shred still tucked into his pants, but his back on full display. I stifle a gasp.

“Wow.” A stunning image stares back at me, taking up his entire back. Unlike his arms, this is the only tattoo on his back, somehow making the bold lines of his muscles look more intimidating. I stare at the distinct features — bold orange and black with accents of amber. Indomitable eyes, powerful muscles, vertical stripes meant for camouflage. The background of snowy mountains and a full moon accentuate the brightness of the focal point.

“It’s a…tiger,” I say, as I walk around him, intentionally keeping my eyes averted from the tapered waist and little dimple in the small of his back.

“It’s a Siberian tiger. My father called me the Siberian tiger when I was kid,” he says. I sometimes forget he has a Russian accent, but it comes back in full force when he talks of his family. “It was my first tattoo.”

I gape. “First? Your first tattoo takes up your entire back.”

“It does.”

I swallow and pretend this doesn’t awe me. With a gentle tug, I take off the remains of his shirt and toss it. I stand awkwardly in front of him, pretending I don’t want to stare at him. I remind myself why we’re here.

I have to take care of his injuries.

He only has a handful of cuts, though, so it’s quick work.

I dab antiseptic on a cotton round and make quick work of cleaning him up. “This will sting,” I warn, when I get to a particularly angry looking scratch on his left shoulder. He doesn’t respond.

I note a few tats I’m not familiar with and suspect they have something to do with him being Bratva — stars on each shoulder, barbed wire on his neck, a spiderweb on his elbow. I note the crosses on his fingers as well and wonder what that’s all about. He’s not what I’d call a particularly religious or spiritual sort.

When his back and arms are cleaned up, I stand in front of him, and do what I’ve longed to do — reach my fingers to his chin and tip his head to the side.

He’d almost seem vulnerable sitting here in front of me like this, if not for his sheer unbridled strength. His presence alone fills the entire room, even when he’s silent. When I stand directly in front of him, I’m completely dwarfed by his shadow.

“Mm. Little bruise on your cheek but no cuts. I’d bet the other guy looks much worse.”

It’s a stupid attempt at a joke, but he doesn’t smile. My heart sinks. I’m trying to make the most of this situation but he —

His hands span my waist, effectively anchoring me in place as his eyes bore into mine.

“They were fools for coming after you. If any of Volkov’s men step foot near you again, I’ll beat them with my bare hands until they beg for mercy. Then I’ll bind them and make them spend their last minutes on earth watching me fuck you. Then kill them so no man has a memory of you but me.”

A shiver makes its way from the base of my neck down the length of my spine. “I’ll make an example of any of his men who even thinks of breathing the same air you do.”

“I know,” I say honestly, because I do know.

Siberian tiger indeed.

The largest cats in the world, the adult male can weigh up to six hundred pounds. Powerful predators, they’re nimble and quiet with an exceptional sense of sight and hearing.

Sometimes I wish I didn’t have a photogenic memory of everything I’ve ever read. I swallow and nod, trying to pretend I’m not freaking the fuck out.

I married a fucking tiger.

Still staring into my eyes, his voice lowers. “I want you naked, Aria.”

By now, I know the low tone of his voice doesn’t mitigate the command for immediate obedience.

The mention of his duty and mine ring in my ears as I step toward him. I feel an immediate rise of my ire when he tells me what to do, but I know I have no choice.

He’s going to strip me.

With deft movements, he holds me with one hand and pops the pearly buttons off the back of the dress.

“This was a nice dress!”

“There are nicer ones. I unwrap my presents the way I like. Are you criticizing me? Go ahead, Aria. Give me a reason to put you over my knee. I’ve barely stopped thinking about it since you left my office.”

My pulse thunders in my ears and my belly swoops. A wedding night spanking may not be the best way to make memories.

I stand still as he continues to undress me.

He mutters under his breath, shaking his head when he sees something he likes.

“What?” I say in a small voice. If he doesn’t like me — if I’ve made it this far and have to stay wedded not only to this brutal monster of a man, but have to stay with him knowing he finds me homely or something —

“I won’t allow you to wear things like this often, but they suit you.” He runs an appreciative hand across my silk-clad ass. I squeeze my legs together at a sudden rush of arousal, just feeling him palm my ass.

I won’t…allow you to wear things like this…

“Do you have something against ivory or silk undergarments?”

“I have something against anything that prevents me from seeing my beautiful wife.”

The dress pools around my feet. The warmth of it straddles my ankles as he reaches for the dainty panties and rips them.

My beautiful wife.

“I liked that, too,” I say with a little pout.

That earns me a growl.

I want a little push and pull. I’m not someone who’s ever rolled over and obeyed anyone, much less a man. And I reason now that we’re married, he won’t exactly — hurt me — will he?

I want to see what happens when I push a little. I want to know why my heart beats so fast when he threatens me. It isn’t just fear…is it? What is a spanking really like? I mean, I don’t spend all my time on computers and in classrooms. I know there’s a whole world out there that’s unexplored. Hell, there are romance books about these things.

“Stand still. Turn around and let me see you.”

Honest to God.

“You think you can just tell me what to do now that we’re married? We don’t really know each other yet, you know. I think we should —”

I’m swept off my feet so quickly the breath whooshes straight out of me. My pulse races when he lifts me straight into the air and yanks me to his chest. “Do you really think I’ll go soft on you so quickly?” he says curiously. “Or are you testing me?”

“I—don’t—” I clamp my mouth shut because I realize pretty quickly that was a rhetorical question that may not really require an answer.

With ease, he arranges me over his lap so I’m staring at the floor. I squeal when he pins me in place with one of his rough, calloused hands, because I know what’s coming. So much for avoiding a wedding night spanking.

My heart leaps into my throat and I’m frozen in place, bracing for the first smack of his palm. Will he hurt me? Why did I push this?

“Look how gorgeous you are. Khristos.” He runs a hand over the curve of my ass. “To think, just a few days ago, little hacker, you hadn’t even come into my office. And now here you are, earning your first punishment.” He draws out the word punishment, accentuating each syllable.

When he palms my ass I squeal, surprised and afraid because I expected the first spank. “You’re so high-strung. Have you never been spanked before?”

“I have not,” I say in a voice that doesn’t sound like my own.

He continues to palm my ass roughly. “Then why did you practically ask for one?”

I shake my head, mortified. “I didn’t.”

The first slap of his hand across my ass sounds like a gunshot. “Ow! God!” My skin’s on fire, and he’s only given me one.

“Do not lie to me.” Another sharp smack follows the first. I’m whimpering and squirming by the time the third one falls. “If you ever lie to me again, I promise you much worse than you’re getting now. You’ll earn the strap for lying, Aria.”

Oh dear God. Another smack follows another. It’s such a strange sensation, pain mixed with pleasure as my body aches for another. After three sharp swats, he’s back to palming my ass, but it hurts like hell.

“It was —” I decide against talking back to him and qualifying my lie when I’m completely vulnerable and over his knee, my ass already on fire. “I—I wanted to know what it was like. It sort of…intrigued me. But I was stupid, it hurts!”

“Does it? Does it sting?” he asks as he lifts his palm and slams it across my ass again. “There are methods, you know. Methods that will teach you to learn how to crave my discipline.”

And that’s exactly what I’m afraid of. If I cave to him, and I start craving literally anything from him — attention or affection, or anything even close to sex — he’ll have me exactly where he wants me. I will not cave to any man.

Still strewn over his lap, I kick my feet. “I don’t know how anyone could ever want something like this.”

“You little liar,” he says, palm pressed to my back as he smacks my ass again. “Your body’s begging me for more.” The rough back of his hand spreads my legs. I squeal when he strokes the inside of my thigh. “I can feel your arousal here, painted on your thighs. You make me crazy, Aria. I want to tie you to my bed and use you. Lick your pussy until you come on my tongue and beg me for more.”

My pulse races as he details the wicked, carnal things he wants to do to me and I realize with sudden alarm — I want that too.

“Is that my…wifely duty?” I’m trying to distract myself from the absolute base things he’s doing to my body. More accurately — how they’re affecting me.

He pauses, his hand mid-raised to give me another spank. “Are you mocking me, Aria?”

My heartbeat throbs.

No. Tell him no.

I want to protest and tell him no, but that would be a lie. And he’s already told me what happens to liars.

I seem to have lost the ability to speak, though. My body’s one big throbbing ball of arousal.

When I don’t answer, his palm slaps against my ass again. The sound of him spanking me seems to take up every inch of this room. Thank God his staff isn’t here.

“Tell me you’ll obey me, Aria,” he says in a growl, his hand poised over my ass.

I nod and try to open my mouth, but nothing comes out. With a sharp crack his palm slaps against my ass again.

“I’ll obey you!” I manage to cry out, even as my mind rebels against such a concept. Right now I’ll do anything to stop the spanking. But when he slows down and begins to finger my pussy, I spread my legs.

“Look how eager you are, you beautiful little slut,” he whispers in my ear. “Go ahead, take my fingers. Open your legs and take what’s yours.”

My cheeks burn but I open my legs, my eyes screwed tight. I know what I need and in that moment, it seems he’s the only one in the world who can give it to me.

The feel of his hot, rough palm on my inner thighs. The stinging burn on my ass. My throbbing clit and aching breasts. Every primal cell of my being screams to be dominated by him, to follow this large, alpha beast of a man who I know will ruin me.

His fingers tangle in my hair with the first stroke of his touch against my pussy. The bold flare of sensation makes me whimper. Before I know what I’m doing, I’m moving my body for more of his touch, pushing my pelvis against his hand.

“Such a bad girl. Got a spanking and now wants to turn her punishment into pleasure. That’s not how punishment works, Aria,” he tells me even as he continues to stroke my pussy and make me lose the ability to think.

His hardened length presses against my belly. He likes this as much as I do, probably more.

My hips jerk. I’m going to lose my mind.

“Don’t you dare come. If you come before I tell you, you’re in so much fucking trouble. It’s our wedding night. You’ll come with me. We’ll come together.”

I would think it weirdly romantic if I wasn’t so consumed with warring thoughts of fleeing and surrendering. It seems as if my entire body, mind, and soul are wrapped up in the throbbing between my legs. I can’t speak or think beyond my need.

When he stands with me, I’m half-delirious. A throw rug and blanket lie before a roaring fire, warming my naked skin. Flames flicker and I feel so warm and cozy except for my sore ass pressed against the soft blanket.

Mikhail’s eyes bore into mine as he presses his weight against me and pins my wrists above my head.

“Tell me you liked your spanking, little hacker.”

I open my mouth to protest, but realize I don’t want to lie. I hold his gaze as I give him the truth. “I loved my spanking. That felt fucking amazing.”

The dark flame in his eyes warns me before he spreads my legs with his knee. My wrists are immobile, my body pinned beneath his.

“Good,” he says in a low growl. “I’ll let that language slide this one time, but you’ll watch your mouth. Finally some truth out of you. I knew you’d come alive under a firm hand.”

Oh, did he, then? Ahhh!

I feel his hot, thick cock at my entrance. Panic sweeps through me.

“Birth control. I don’t use birth control.” Why would I, when my sex life has been as dry as the Sahara? “Mikhail,” I say haltingly. “Wait. Please.”

“Yes?” He bends and kisses the hollow of my neck.

“Would we…do you…I don’t have birth control.”

He growls and bites my neck. I hiss in a breath when he lowers his weight on me, effectively pinning me in place. “There will never be a barrier between us. Ever. Marrying me was your first payment to me. The second will be bearing my child.”

Why have I not suspected as much? I’ve barely had time to think this through, to formulate a plan.

No birth control.

Children?

“Are you a virgin, Aria?”

I shake my head and hold his gaze. Will he dislike that I’m not?

“Believe me, it was nothing special,” I mutter.

Narrowing his eyes, he leans down and presses his chest to mine. “Good. That will save me having to hunt him down and erase the memory of you. There will be none after me, Aria. None.”

I’ll give him anything if only he’ll take me to where my body longs to go. There will be none other than him.

I moan in pleasure as he finally slides his cock in my pussy. I’m so full I can’t breathe as he stretches me and my pussy hugs his cock.

The first stroke feels like magic, as his hips thrust and my body’s engulfed in flame. The scent of pine and leather. The flickering warmth of the fire against my skin. The sound of my heavy breathing and his in the stillness.

He glides in and out effortlessly. I wish I knew Russian because I’d give anything to know what he’s saying now.

“You come with me,” he says with another firm thrust. “Are you ready to come, Aria?”

I nod my head and say something that sounds like an affirmative, but’s really not much at all. I can’t speak beyond the way my pulse races and my needs are firing.

“Tell me you’ll obey me,” he says with a hard thrust.

“I’ll obey,” I say, the first wave of pleasure rippling through me.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he growls with another savage thrust.

I don’t want to cave so easily, so I clamp my lips together. But when he stalls his thrusting, hovering above me waiting for my response, I nearly lose my mind. It’s worse than any spanking he could give me. I want to climax. If I don’t, I’ll lose my mind.

“Aria,” he warns, pressing my wrists more firmly. “Tell me.”

I’m craving his cock like I’m dying of thirst in a desert. I finally cave. “I’m…I’m yours,” I whisper. The next thrust sends me spiraling into ecstasy, and he’s claiming that. Claiming me.

His breath catches as he thrusts again with a low growl. Every nerve in my being culminates in this. Ecstasy floods me. I’m completely swept away, empowered by his own guttural growl of ecstasy. His hot come lashes in my pussy as pleasure wraps me in a hot, tight cocoon. Again and again he thrusts, as both of us ride the waves of perfection together.