Page 34 of The Arrangement

“So fucking good.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

I can tell there’s more. Maksim has an unmistakable edge to his voice, as if I’m some low-level thug working for him who’s screwed up. Have I screwed up?

“There’s only one problem.”

“There is?”

“Mhmm. You didn’t ask for permission to come.”

I giggle, taking my hands off the mantle and beginning to turn around. “Couldn’t hold it back any longer.”

“Stop right there.” His words freeze me mid-turn. “Put your hands back on the mantle.”

His tone is so uncompromising I can’t help but obey. Silence hangs in the air as I wait for his next words.

“You were a bad girl, my dear. A very plokhaya devushka.” Something about his Russian makes his words hit even harder. “You came without my permission, didn’t you?”

“I did.”

“Thank you for your honesty. But to tell the truth, your confession is necessary. I could tell you were coming, your pussy can’t lie. Not to me, anyway. I felt every fucking ripple. That clench is just out of this world, darling.”

A thrill of arousal flashes through me at his words.

“Bad girls get punished, yes? Tell me, are you ready for your punishment?”

I close my eyes, savoring his words. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“Good.”

From his position behind me, I feel his big hand cup my right cheek. Then, before I can react, he pulls his hand back and brings it down, the crack of skin on skin filling the air. The sting is shocking. It’s not even pain, it’s pleasure tinged with just enough edge to make it interesting.

“Ah!” I yelp, my cheeks burning red while my core throbs for more.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he asks.

I’m not sure how to respond, to be honest. Part of me wants him to spank me again. “I don’t know.”

He chuckles. “I’ll take that as I no. That is understandable – some lessons need a bit more instruction to settle in one’s mind.”

His hand moves to my other cheek and, just like before, he lifts his hand and smacks my ass again. The sensation is somehow even more delightful than before.

“OH, YES, SIR!”

“I think that did the trick,” he says.

I hear the rustling of clothing behind me and glance over my shoulder to see that he’s bare.

God, Maksim is sexy. His body is big and powerful, his shoulders round and broad like a linebacker’s, his chest stout, and his abs drawn in ropes of taut, chiseled muscle—just enough definition to make me bite into my lower lip. His rippling pecks are dusted with silver hair, and as he turns to make his way toward one of the wingback chairs, my eyes latch onto his perfect, sculpted ass, the tight, firm buttocks bouncing hypnotically with every step.

He takes a seat on the chair, his cock pointing straight up. The sight is absolutely mouthwatering.

“Come over here,” he says, his heated gaze locked onto mine. “Come over here and sit on me.”

How the hell am I supposed to resist an invitation like that? Then again, with Maksim, they’re not invitations – they’re orders. And they’re orders I’m happy to obey.

I turn around, my ass still throbbing deliciously from his spanking. I make my way over to him, his legs spread slightly, his cock pointing up. He looks like the emperor of the goddamn world.

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