Page 21 of Keeping My Bride

I curl my hands into fists at my sides. I’d rather take my frustrations and hatred out on her father. But since he isn’t here…I guess she’ll have to take the brunt of my anger.

Walking over to her, I brush my hand over her backside. She jumps at the touch and then slowly relaxes. I like how much she fears me. How much she doesn’t trust me.

“Count, Verona,” I tell her while flicking up the back of her dress to expose her completely to me.

“What?” she asks right before I bring my hand down on her delicious ass.

She cries out in surprise, but doesn’t give me what I want. “That was one,” I say as I lean down to whisper into her ear.

“One,” she says in agreement.

I slap her other cheek, and she cries out, “Two!”

My hands have a mind of their own as they caress her flesh between spanks. Her ass is turning a delicious shade of dark pink, and I still want more. I spank her over and over again, relishing the pained cries coming from her mouth.

The light blue thong grows darker between her legs with every spank. This is turning her on. Who knew Verona would be a little slut for pain? And, fuck, I can’t help but wonder how much wetter she can get just from me spanking her.

“Please!” she cries out suddenly.

I lean down and whisper into her ear, “Does that mean you want me to stop or that you want me to continue?”

She closes her eyes, effectively blocking me out as a shiver runs through her.

Standing and moving away from her, I say, “Go to your room.” I want her to feel like an ill-behaved child. “Somebody else will have to clean up your fucking mess.”

With tears in her eyes, she slowly stands, fixes her dress and runs out of my office. My cock presses painfully against my zipper, and I grind my palm down against it. I need a fucking release, but now isn’t the time. I have shit to deal with thanks to my new wife trying to be helpful.

Taking a few minutes to compose myself, I finally tame the beast in my pants so that I can take care of the situation in the kitchen.

When I walk in the door, the staff is still arguing loudly. They haven’t even begun cleaning, because they’re too busy fighting over who should be the one to do it.

Benito and Dante look at me and instantly shut up. I look at the five housekeepers and tell them, “Sei licenziato! Get the fuck out of my house.”

They all look at me and then at each other, thinking they misheard me.

“You’re fired!” I tell them this time in English. “No one disrespects my wife in my own home.”

I watch and wait as they all leave the room. Benito and Dante stare at me, waiting for what happens next. “Benito, hire some new staff. I want them to start today. And make sure they sign the NDAs.”

“Yes, of course,” Benito says, walking out of the room to get started on the task.

And then, with a grin on my face, I tell Dante, “Clean up this mess,” before I leave the room.

If Dante thinks he holds some kind of power over me because he knows Verona better than me, then I’m going to have to put him in his place every fucking time he tries to overstep his boundaries. Most men would get their hands cut off for touching another man’s wife. He’s lucky I’m letting him keep his hands long enough to clean up the mess Verona made. Next time, he might not be so fucking lucky.

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