Page 35 of Black Widow's Kiss

“Kuroi,” he began in a low rumbling voice, “go to the bathroom and wash your face.”

I trembled barely able to contain myself. I had to open my mouth to breath. Gripping the bowl preparing to defend myself, I drew air into my lungs and whispered, “No.”

He didn’t respond but anger pulsed off of him. When he moved, I realized that I hadn’t prepared for his blow. Flinching for the impact, it never came. Instead, he headed to the kitchen turning his back on me.

Watching him, he retrieved a wooden spoon from the utensils draw and turned out the chair at the head of the dining room table. Sitting, he stared into my eyes.

“Come here.”

I opened my mouth to protest. He cut me off.

“Now!”

What could I do? I heard him. I was to come to him. So, placing the bowl on the counter, I went to him. Standing at his feet, I trembled like a schoolboy.

“Kneel. Across my knee.”

Oh my god. My heart thumped. My head spun. I fought to resist but couldn’t. Lowering to my knees, I bent over with my stomach on his legs.

When the first strike hit, my skin was electric. My body tingled. After the wave of shock had barreled through me, a sting spread across my ass that took my breath away.

The second was more intense. The third made me moan.

“Ahh,” I groaned knowing he hadn’t held back. His power had made me weak in the knees. So when he next told me to get up, I wasn’t sure I could.

Swallowing as the heat billowed around my neck, I flinched as the sting of his strikes spread. Fighting through it to my feet, all I could do was look down at him. His anger was gone, but it didn’t reflect in his face.

“Now, go to the bathroom and wash your face. When you’re done, we will sit and enjoy the meal you have prepared.”

Without a word, I did what he had commanded. I didn’t want to wash off the hours of work I had done, but I was compelled to do what he said. It was like I couldn’t stop myself. Or, maybe it was that I didn’t want to stop myself.

Staring into my makeup mirror, I took a breath and grabbed a towel. Stripping away the layers slowly, what was revealed underneath was burnt and ugly. I looked away. I had done what he had commanded. All that was left was to return to him.

Remembering the force in his voice, I took another breath and did what I was told. Exiting the bathroom, I entered the living room. Unable to look up, I approached the dining table finding him seated. Retrieving the spaghetti bowl, I placed it on the table and took a seat next to him.

Still unable to meet his eyes, I sat listening to him dish up. When he was done, I knew it was my turn but I couldn’t move. Icouldn’t look up at him. I couldn’t get up. All I could do was sit there meekly. This wasn’t me. Yet, here I was.

“Kuroi,” Dante said drawing my attention.

I turned to him without meeting his gaze.

“Look at me,” he said softly. When I didn’t, he repeated it with authority. “Look at me!”

I did. His eyes were different. Softer, maybe. Perhaps kind.

“I don’t want you to think that I don’t like your makeup and dresses. Believe me, I do. You look beautiful.”

“I don’t,” I admitted no longer able to hold his gaze.

Leaning across the table he took my chin between his fingers. His touch sent shivers of pleasure through me. Lifting my chin, I settled in his eyes.

“I said, believe me. You do.”

“Then, why?”

Dante let go of my chin and this time was the one to look away. Scanning his plate, it was a moment before he returned to me vulnerably.

“Because we have been married for three days and I barely know what my husband looks like. I would like to meet him.”

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