Page 124 of Porcelain Lies

I step toward her, waiting for her to scurry away. Instead, she stands her ground, those fearless eyes watching me. “Chyort, you’re brave.”

“What are you going to do?” Her voice is steadier than I expected. A spark of something dangerous flickers in her eyes — defiance, lust, the need to push back. It only makes my hunger for her sharper.

“Teach you a lesson.” I take another step, and another, my lips curling in a smile as she reluctantly backs away. “To make sure you don’t wander off again.”

She stops by the bed, eyes darting left and right like she’s calculating her chances. Smart girl. But not smart enough to realize there is no escape. From me, there’s never any escape.

“Lie down.” I nod to the bed, keeping my voice soft. For now.

She blinks, eyes narrowing. “What?”

“You heard me.” I tap the bed. “Face first.”

She stiffens, shoulders squaring. “You’renot my father.”

The bite in her words makes my smile widen. “Nyet, but it seems you need reminding of your place.”

She huffs out a breath, indecision flashing across her face. Then, sudden as lightning, she lunges for the door.

I’m on her in two steps, grabbing her arm and spinning her back toward the bed. She kicks and struggles, more fire than I expected. But I’ve dealt with far more dangerous opponents.

With a quick motion, I twist her around, pushing her facedown onto the bed. She grunts as the air leaves her lungs, arms flailing. I trap her with a knee on the back of her thighs, one hand pinning her wrists above her head.

She’s strong, this one. Not just her body but her spirit. I like it.

I shift my hand between her shoulder blades, applying just enough pressure to hold her down. She’s breathless beneath me as I tug down her gym pants, her voice muffled by the mattress.

“What are you doing?” she croaks.

“Taking control.” I yank her pants halfway down her thighs, baring that luscious ass. “Keeping you in line.”

She squirms beneath me, a feeble attempt to escape. “Let me go.”

“Not a chance.” I trace a finger down her spine, sliding my hand over the curve of her ass. “Not until I’m done with you.”

I land the first smack on her plump ass. The sound reverberates through the room, and she grunts, hips bucking.

“Blyad, that’s a good start.” I grin.

“You… you can’t do this!” She struggles against me, a wildcat in my grasp, but I hold firm, landing another sharp smack that makes her yelp. Her ass cheeks tremble, soft and tempting beneath my hand. The sight of her squirming, the scent of her arousal — it’s driving me wild.

“Stay still,” I growl, landing a third smack that makes her cry out.

She sobs, the sound muffled by the pillow. Good. She needs to learn — disobedience has consequences. I pepper her ass with stinging slaps, the soft flesh quickly turning pink.

Her body softens beneath me as I continue, each swat making her moan and jerk. When she’s squirming and pleading, juices soaking the sheets, I finally pause, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking her head back.

She gasps, eyes wild, skin flushed. “Please, Aleksei…”

“Voz’mi.” I tug harder, forcing her head back to expose the graceful arc of her throat. “Prosha, I haven’t even started yet.”

I slide my hand down her chest, cupping her full breast and squeezing gently. She mewls, arching her back and pushing her ass against my hardening cock.

“Khoroshaya devotchka.” I nip at her earlobe, giving her a moment to catch her breath. She’s fucking intoxicating — the scent of her skin, her fear mixed with need, the pulse fluttering at her throat.

With my free hand, I slide two fingers into her pussy, groaning at how wet she is. She bucks her hips, urging me to go deeper.

“Da, that’s it,zayka.” I nip her earlobe. “You want this, don’t you?”

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