Page 15 of Dark Truths

“Discipline?”

“I told you not to return here, yes?”

“Yes,” I answer slowly. “But that was before tonight. Before my request.”

Dimitri licks his lips, devouring me like a five-course meal with his ice-blue gaze. “Come now, Gabriella. We both know this started the night you first came into my club.”

He’s not wrong, and it’s knowing we both felt the same pull that gave me the confidence to approach him tonight. “So what? I had to come here to talk to you. I couldn’t very well just show up at the Mikailhov house.” He continues staring at me in silence. “Are you really going to punish me for disobeying a demand I didn’t know to take seriously?” I ask incredulously when he remains quiet.

“Yes.” I stare at him as he spreads his legs and pats his knee. “Come and lay over my knees.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I won’t ask again, Gabriella. Do as I say, or this is over before it even starts.” His gaze is feverish and hot with a warning that he’s serious.

I’ve never been spanked. Not in the way he’s suggesting. Past boyfriends were always too kind, too gentle…too vanilla to ever walk the thin line between pleasure and pain. But this is what I wanted. What I asked for. What I hoped for.

I kneel beside him before crawling across his lap and shiver when his hand caresses my dress covered ass.

“When I say not to do something, you will listen. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I breathe out.

“Yes, sir.”

I close my eyes at the command in his voice. “Yes, sir.”

“Good girl.”

His hand slides to the hem of my dress and he pulls it up and over my curved backside. He hisses when he notices that I’m bare underneath and I grin at his reaction.

“This is how I expect you every time I see you.” I nod, and a moment later, he smacks my bare behind lightly and says, “Use your words.”

“Yes, sir.”

He strokes my flesh in gentle circles and then his hand comes down, his palm connecting with my skin making a loud, piercing sound. I cry out, every muscle tightening as the stinging pain shoots through my body from my toes to my fingertips before settling between my legs. The sensitive space there grows slick and throbs with an ache only his touch can ease.

“That’s one. Four more and I’ll reward you.”

I swallow hard and buck against the very noticeable bulge beneath my stomach. It earns me another swat.

“Stay still,” he orders. “That’s two.”

He does it again, and I moan, biting my bottom lip until I taste copper to stop myself from moving.

“Three.”

My clit pulses with each slap. The sensation is like a direct shock to the bundle of nerves.

Another. “Four.”

I can feel my orgasm building, and he hasn’t even touched me. What does that say about me? That pain drives my pleasure? If it does, then so be it. I’m guilty. This is what I was searching for earlier in the shower—this feeling, this intensity that overwhelms every one of my senses. All I see are his piercing blue eyes, all I smell is his sandalwood cologne, all I hear is our uneven breathing, both of us struggling for control, and all I feel is his touch, branding me like fire.

“Five.”

Just as he promised, Dimitri’s hand moves from my rear to slide between my legs. “Jesus, fuck, Gabriella. You’re soaked. You liked that, didn’t you?”

“Yes, sir,” I moan.

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