Oath of Obedience (Deviant Doms 2)

We don’t love one another. We don’t even know one another. So she’ll learn to obey me by fear.

“You vowed to honor and obey.” And love, but that’s a formality, and we both know it. At least she should since she’s been raised in the mafia.

“I did. Did you really expect me to mean those words?” She flings the words at me as if she’s trying to hurt me, and I have to admit it does sting. It shouldn’t. I think of this as a business arrangement, no more, no less.

I don’t know why I’m allowing her to unravel me. No one does that. I don’t know why I should let her make me feel this way at all.

“The love part? That’s neither here nor there. I’m sure you know your own parents got married for something else.”

She doesn’t respond, but then swallows again, betraying her nerves. Jesus, she’s gorgeous, one of the most beautiful women I’ve seen in a long, long time. Curves in all the right places, an oval-shaped face with a little dimple in her cheek, sparkling eyes that probably light up when she screams. I bet her cheeks flush pink when she comes.

I go on. We need to talk about our vows. They were no fucking game. “The part about honoring and obeying, though? Those I intend to enforce.”

“Enforce, obey. All these words as if you own me.”

I walk to her. I want her close enough to touch, so I can drag her to me or quiet her with my hand on the back of her neck. I want to see how she yields, if she does at all.

She stands her ground, a full six feet between her and the doorway behind her where she could have backpedaled, but she didn’t. She looks up at me. She’s so small. I’m so much larger than her it would be funny, if not for the tension in this room. I grab her chin between my fingers and hold her there, looking into her eyes. “You tried to run away.”

She shakes her head but doesn’t say anything. “Do not lie to me, Elise. Talking back to me will get you punished but lying to me will get you a punishment that you’ve never had before, I can guarantee that.”

I imagine her tied to my bed, naked, squirming and crying while she takes her punishment. Jesus.

“Oh, right. Is that part…of your kinky game?” Her voice is tainted with anger but husky, as if something I’ve done or said has aroused her.

I pinch her chin harder, and her eyes water. “This. Is. Not. A. Game.”

How can she not know how dangerous this is? How vital it is that she does exactly what she’s told without giving me shit? If she does something stupid and reckless, someone could hurt her. I’m a high-ranking member of one of the most powerful groups in all of Boston. That makes my wife a target.

“Your safety depends on you listening to me. Your safety depends on doing exactly what I say. As for the respect? I demand that.”

“You can’t demand respect,” she says pointedly. “That’s something you’ll have to earn.”

And with that, I’ve had it. I don’t want to banter about this any longer. I have a job to do, I have a lesson to teach, and I wanna get some fucking sleep.

In one rapid motion I bend and pick her up, lifting her as if she weighs no more than a child. She’s so little, but she’s feisty. She kicks her legs and tries to slap at my shoulders, but I ignore her and march to the bed. My tie is still fisted in my left hand. I drop her unceremoniously, and she tries to get away, but I grab her by the ankle, yank her back to me, and slap her ass so hard she gasps. My palm tingles where I smacked her. Fuck, I like the feel of that. I like that she’s fighting me.

I want her to fight me more. I want to own this woman.

The thin, gauzy dress she wears gives way like wrapping paper in my fingers as I tear it off of her. My goal is to tie her to my bed and punish her before I mark her.

But I pause when I bare her to me. She’s so beautiful it makes me ache. My gorgeous, beautiful, unblemished bride.

I lower my body on top of her and I bring my mouth to her ear when she tips her head to the side. Her mouth parts as her eyes close quickly.

“Your father told me that you were a virgin, Elise.” She knows what’s on the line. She’s not allowed to come to the marriage bed defiled. She knows that if her father promised her to me, I expect a virgin. “And you know that if I find that you’re not…”