Page 54 of Sacred Vow

“To Craig, not to me. You didn’t make a vow to me.”

“Then I’ll make it now. I will always protect you. I will always take care of you. And I will always keep you.”

Her chest rises and falls faster, her cheeks are pink, and her lips are parted. The woman has no idea how easy it is to read her. She hides nothing from me.

“I’ll give you until Saturday, but that’s it. But starting now, you’ll be a good girl for me. No more sneaking away. No more lying about where you’re going. No more trying to handle all of this on your own behind my back. You’ll obey. You’ll submit. And you’ll be mine.”

“Until Saturday.”

I chuckle. “No, the only difference between today and Saturday is your last name.”

“And if I can convince you that you don’t want to marry me?”

“Not gonna happen.”

“But if it does?” She arches her brow.

“This discussion is closed,” I announce. I won’t bother pretending there’s anything she can do to change our course. I shove the chair out of my way. She startles when it topples to its side, leaving her vulnerable to my reach.

“Andrei.” She puts her arms out again. “Wait. Wait.”

“No. No more waiting. It’s time for the other discussion.”

“What other discussion?” I barely get the question out before he grabs my arm, throws his shoulder into my stomach, and lifts me up.

“The one where you beg forgiveness for lying, for sneaking around, and for doing something that was dangerous to yourself.” He carries me through the living room. The marble tiling bobbles beneath my vision as I’m jostled.

“I went to the doctor!” I argue.

He responds with a resounding smack to my ass that burns instantly. My black capri leggings are no protection from Andrei’s hand.

“And if it had worked, if you had triggered horrible memories and I wasn’t there to help you through it?”

“Marlena was there,” I protest.

He grunts. “Marlena is a bad influence on you, I think.”

“She is not!”

He smacks my ass again. “Stop arguing. You lied, you snuck around, you’ll pay the price for it,” he promises as he makes his way up the stairs.

Once in his room, he kicks the door shut and drops me on the bed. I bounce a few times before I catch myself and scoot to the end of the bed.

He points one long finger at me with a hot glare. I need no other instruction. I stay put.

After he locks the door, he begins taking off his shirt, unbuttoning his sleeves, then the row of buttons as he pulls it from his trousers. He tosses the shirt on the dresser, standing before me in a black tank undershirt tucked into his dark trousers, with that belt of his, thick and heavy, buckled at his waist.

I’ve seen him naked, this isn’t a new development, but fuck, the way he looks at me when he’s standing there. I’m about to be devoured, and there isn’t a muscle in my body that will listen to me in order to get away.

“Take off those damn clothes.” He reaches for his belt.

“I thought we were having a discussion?” I give a pointed look to his hands.

“We did. On the way up here, we discussed why you’re getting punished.” His stare weighs me down. The belt comes loose from the buckle and he yanks it free of his pants in one smooth jerk.

“You’re still not obeying me, Isolde.” A turbulent storm darkens his expression.

I jump into action, hopping off the bed. “You can’t spank me every time you don’t like what I did.” I hurry around the bed. It won’t shield me from him, but at least it buys me a few seconds.

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