Page 44 of His to Ruin

His eyes are dark as he glances at me with obvious disapproval. Shit. I should have gone with my gut and worn something to please him and not myself. He doesn’t get the chance to voice his complaint about my appearance as we’re swarmed by his business associates, all keen to meet me. Piotr makes brief introductions and I smile warmly as everyone welcomes me into the fold. Well, almost everyone.

Mila Lenkova, whose dress is even shorter than mine, slides an assessing gaze over me, declares Piotr’s choice of brideinteresting, and then drags her husband off to the side of the room. She lays claim to him with a kiss that would make Satan blush, not that Niko seems to mind.

Just as it looks as if the couple might have completely forgotten they have an audience, Jacques appears in the doorway. “Ladies and gentlemen, dinner is served. Please make your way to the dining room and take your allocated seats.”

Evie was right. The man is a pompous ass. As Sev leads everyone out of the room and along the corridor, Piotr grabs my arm and drags me in the other direction. He opens a door and shoves me into a small room. There’s a countertop with a sink in it, a washing machine and a dryer. I guess this is Sev’s laundry room, though I’d bet good money he doesn’t even know it exists.

“Piotr, what…?”

“Shut up, Olivia.”

I bristle at the command as he spins me around and bends me over the counter. He draws my dress up and yanks my panties down with such force I hear the flimsy fabric rip. Despite my shock at being handled so roughly, my pussy grows wetter.

Piotr spanks my ass hard, the crack of his palm on my flesh impossibly loud in this small room. I gasp at the impact as he strikes me again. When his hand ricochets off my tender flesh for the third time, I squeal.

“Keep quiet!” Piotr hisses.

I clamp my lips shut as he delivers one sharp smack after another. My ass throbs, but so does my clit. I wriggle my hips, trying to ease the pain and catch hold of the pleasure that’s building. Piotr spanks me twelve times in total as I writhe helplessly against the marble countertop. By the time he’s finished, I’m drenched. My clit pulsates, and I’m desperate to be fucked. How the hell has he conditioned me to this so quickly? I guess the desire to be punished was always there.

When he turns me to face him, I breathe deeply to compose myself. It’s probably futile to hope he doesn’t know how being spanked affects me.

“What was that for?” I ask, my voice steady.

“For this atrocity.” He grabs the sleeve of my dress and gives my arm a shake. “What the hell were you thinking?”

This is a pivotal moment, I realize. If I give in to him over my clothing, what other demands will he make? The dress may be over the top, but it flatters my figure and I feel good in it. Is this a hill I’m willing to die on? Yes, I think it is.

“That this is something stunning.” I flick my hair back over my shoulder. “As requested.”

Piotr stares at me for a moment, his brow furrowed and eyes narrowed. I don’t know what he’s thinking. I rarely do, but I decide to take a risk.

“It worked.” I grab the collar of his crisp black shirt and tug him closer. “You’re stunned.”

I push up on my toes to kiss him. He’s only a couple of inches taller than me when I’m in these heels, but he tilts his head back, making me chase him. As my lips capture his, he remains stubbornly rigid. I tangle my fingers in his hair and flick my tongue out to coax him to open for me. He doesn’t.

“Piotr,” I moan against his obstinately closed mouth. “Husband.”

That jolts him into action. He curves a hand around the back of my neck and hauls me up against his taut, muscular body. He takes over the kiss, pressing his lips to mine. Our teeth and tongue clash as we fight for dominance. Piotr ultimately wins,subduing me utterly. When he’s stolen almost all the breath from my lungs, he breaks the kiss, leaving me panting with need.

Cupping my aching ass, he lifts me onto the countertop. I hiss as my heated flesh meets the cold surface. Piotr kisses me again as he steps between my legs, forcing me to spread my thighs wider to accommodate him. His teeth drag across my lower lip, then he bites down until I taste the bitter tang of blood. Fuck! That hurts in the best possible way.

“Piotr, please.”

“What do you want,malyskha?”

“Your cock.”

“Where?”

“Where do you think?”

Piotr’s eyes light with dark desire. He likes it when I challenge him.

“Here?” he asks, running his thumb over my lips.

“Try again.” I am not getting down on my knees for him while my pussy is crying out to be filled.

“Your ass?” he asks.

---