Page 37 of Defiled Innocence

“If that’s what you want to call them.” I turn off the ignition and pick up my phone from the center console where it’s been charging.

Several texts have come through while I was driving, but I didn’t take them since she was in the car.

When she reaches for her door handle, I tap her knee and swish my finger from side to side. The annoyed huff she gives goes straight to my cock.

Who knew having a brat for a wife would be so much fun. Spanking the attitude out of her is going to be one of the most enjoyable events of our time together so far.

Keeping my phone in my hand, I climb out of the car and round to her door. She won’t be patient enough to wait for me, so I lean against her door to keep her inside while I scroll through the messages.

A shipment has been delayed at the Port of Novorossiysk. The reason behind the delay isn’t clear yet.

A gentle rapping on the window draws my attention from my messages to the woman I’ve trapped in the car. After sending off orders to get to the bottom of the problem, I slowly turn around to face my wife.

She’s pulled her hair up into a high bun, securing it with a hair tie she must have dug out of her purse. It’s messy and gorgeous at the same time. Just like her.

I open the door for her and hold out my hand, which she ignores and climbs out on her own. After shutting the door behind her, I gesture toward the elevators.

“I know today hasn’t gone the way we agreed it would, but I really did have to get to the center.” She tries for civility as the elevator takes us up to my penthouse.

“You have a full staff. I understand they need to let you know when an emergency happens, but you didn’t need to be there. They could have handled it themselves.”

“Well, that’s not how I do things,” she says, stepping in front of me. Again, she’s giving me her back.

“Most men would think twice before turning their back on me,” I say, reaching out to pick up a loose strand of hair that didn’t make it into her ponytail.

Wrapping the dark lock around my middle finger several times, I tug, pulling her back a step.

She hisses and tries to swat my hand away, but I’m not going anywhere. And it’s about time she understands that.

“Dmitri.” She tries to twist around when the elevator door slides open, but I step forward, blocking her movements.

“I’ll give you the tour later. Right now, we need to have our second lesson in obedience,” I grate in her ear and push her out of the elevator and into the penthouse.

“I’m trying to explain. I wasn’t purposely avoiding meeting you. It was an emergency.” She reaches behind her head and grabs my wrist, not that it will do any good.

“You could have texted me that. You could have answered any of the numerous calls you pushed to voicemail. You could have waited for me to come meet you and help you take care of it. You could have done a lot of things. But you chose to ignore me. You chose to ignore our appointment. You chose this.” I pull my hand back and unleash a hard smack to her ass, propelling her forward a step.

The hair I have wrapped around my finger acts as a leash, and she curses the moment it’s tugged too tight.

“I didn’t choose any of this.” There’s an air of annoyance mixed with desperation in her tone.

I uncoil my finger from her hair, giving her only a moment of reprieve.

“You can explain yourself once you’re in position.” I grab her hand, lacing our fingers together, and pull her along to the winding staircase that will take us up to the second floor.

“What position? Dmitri, seriously, this isn’t necessary.” She keeps up with me step for step as I lead her down the hall to the corner suite.

“Is this really how you want to start our marriage?” she asks once we’re inside my room and I’ve let her go.

Her hands hook onto her hips, and I take a long moment to look her over.

The black slacks she’s wearing are wrinkled and barely dry as they cling to her ankles. Her shoes are probably ruined from walking around the flood water in the basement of the center.

“No,” I agree. “It’s not.”

“Good.” She sighs and smiles a little. “Like I said, I’m sorry, but it couldn’t be helped, really.”

I shake out of my suit jacket and toss it on the loveseat in the corner of the room.

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