He wouldn’t take my money. He wanted my innocence instead.
When Nikolai Romanov came looking for my brother, I emptied my savings hoping I could pay off his debt. But I didn’t have even close to enough, so the bastard decided to take me instead.
I didn’t expect a Russian mafia boss like him to be gentle with me… and he wasn’t.
Not when he spanked me for daring to wear panties under the dress he chose for me, and certainly not when he stripped me out of that same dress and made me scream in his bed.
He told me I would be his for a month, but the way he looks at me says I’m his forever…
Author: Measha Stone
eBook Price: Kindle Unlimited/$4.95
Length: 58,000 words
He hooks his hands on his hips. The golden lights strung around the garden casts enough of a shadow over his face that his features are hidden. “Stand up and bend over the bench. Put your hands flat on the seat and stick your ass out high for me.” He reaches for his belt buckle and my stomach does a somersault.
“What?” I blink, then look around. He’s back to being insane. “We’re outside, Nikolai,” I protest.
He locks eyes with me as he wraps his hand around the metal buckle and pulls the leather strap from his pants in one fluid tug.
“That was your choice. I wanted to take you upstairs to one of the bedrooms. But you had to do this your way.” He folds the leather strap in half and tucks the buckle into his palm. “I’d start moving soon or it’s going to be worse.”
“You’re going to spank me because I didn’t wear the black dress and I had a sandwich at my own restaurant?” He couldn’t be any less reasonable.
“No. I’m going to punish you because you insist on defying me. Which means you haven’t learned yet which one of us gives the orders and which one of us obeys them.”
I swallow back my rebuttal. The longer we’re out here, the more chance that someone happens upon us.
“It was a childish way to behave, purposely wearing a different dress and putting my hair up.” I’ll give him that much, it’s the truth. “But you’re overreacting and we’re outside. Someone might see us or hear us.”
“Then I suggest you hurry up. When dinner’s being served, most certainly someone will be sent out here to look for us.” He swings the belt against his leg quietly, rhythmically.
“Don’t do this, Nikolai. Not here.” I move to my feet, even while I’m pleading for him to change his mind. I guess I could try running through the house to go out the front door, but I doubt I’d make it. And he’d just have more naughty things to add to my list.
“You chose the place, Charlotte. Not me.” He nods toward the bench.
It’s a good thing we haven’t eaten yet. My stomach is ready to revolt thanks to the nervousness and awkwardness of the entire situation.
The wood of the bench is cool beneath my palms as I press into the seat. I close my eyes; I don’t want to see his shadow, or feel his presence. Maybe if I can let my mind wander far enough away, I won’t feel the belt.
He steps beside me and with a quick flick of his wrist he tosses the skirt of the dress up over my back. If the ground could just swallow me up and spit me out somewhere else in the universe, I’d be eternally grateful. I’m wearing a black pair of cotton brief panties. I could not be less attractive at this moment.
Without a word, he fists the elastic of my panties and drags them down over my ass until they fall down to my ankles. I step out of them when he tugs, and he pockets them. Tears already burn my eyes. If someone sees me like this, hears me when that belt strikes… mortification can kill, right?
The first lash of the belt is harsh; it cuts across my ass with a white-hot heat. Nikolai steps further to the side and brings his arm back again. I tense, but it doesn’t matter. The belt lashes right through my attempt to ignore it.
He brings it down again and again and again, without giving me a second to process or breathe. It’s just pain. Overwhelming, suffocating pain and all I can do is clench my lips together to keep from screaming.
Tears roll down my cheeks and I want to run away. There’s no escape here though.
His hand roams over my ass and it takes me a moment to register that the belt is coiled up on the bench beside my left hand.
“I don’t like this, punishing you when you look so pretty tonight. I don’t like making you cry, not like this,” he says softly while running his fingertips across the stripes his belt has made. His hand moves lower, between my thighs until he finds my pussy.
With just a feathery touch, my body opens for him.