Rough Exile

Chapter Fourteen

Bronmadeacall, then another, and when we got to the street, a car met us there. The ride back to the hotel was silent.

We avoided the front desk and made our way to our suite. Thankfully, Ilya let me walk to our room rather than continuing to carry me, but he held my hand the entire way, as though I might take off again.

Bron stripped out of his bloody clothes and got into the shower as soon as we entered our suite. Ilya checked me over and tended to my scratches, then sat down on the couch. When I headed for the closet for something to change into, he snapped his fingers at me and patted his knee.

Since when was he all finger-snappy with me?

“What?” I asked, wondering how serious he was.

“Come here, woman.”

Woman? We weren’t at the club anymore, so this wasn’t him playing a role.

Arching a brow at him, I got closer.

“Sit,” he ordered, pointing at his lap.

Confused, I perched uncertainly on his lap.

He fished the leash out of my cleavage and pulled the collar over my head, then tossed it onto the side table. Frowning, he traced the burning line on my cheekbone where the attacker had hit me with the stick. “I don’t like this mark.”

“If it’s any consolation, I didn’t like it either.”

“You need to learn not to wander off.”

“I’m not a child, Ilya.”

“No, you’re not, so I expect more from you.”

I swallowed, feeling odd. This wasn’t usually how things were between the two of us.

“Twice tonight you left my side without making sure you had Bron with you. It’s not as safe here as it is at home.”

He said home like it was our home, rather than just his.

“I’m aware.”

“It occurs to me now that being so beautiful has probably always brought you trouble.”

A ball of emotion clogged my throat.

He wasn’t wrong, but no one had ever felt sorry for me because of it before. All of the unwanted, inappropriate attention. The groping and catcalls. The assaults. The women who assumed I was a bitch or that I’d try to steal their man. Back home I’d rarely worn makeup and I’d dressed like a slob, but it still hadn’t been enough.

“When we were at the club, didn’t I warn you not to stray?”

“Well…yes, but I thought you were acting bossy to impress people. I didn’t think you really meant it.”

“When I speak, I expect you to obey me.”

“Okay.”

“Not just okay. You say, ‘Yes, Ilya.’”

I swallowed, his tone and disapproval making my cheeks heat. He was usually so mild-mannered with me, but lately he was getting so unexpectedly dominant.

“Yes, Ilya.” Okay, the reaction I was having to his bossiness had to be a hold-over from what they’d done to me at the club, right? That and the adrenaline from my narrow escape from the creep in the park.

“I think it’s time for me to teach you how serious I am that you listen to me. Things could have been much worse at the club or in the park, but when we go to visit my family, you must listen to me immediately and every time.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize it was such a big deal.”

“Whether the deal is large or small makes no difference. You hear me, and you obey, like a good little pet.”

I swallowed, not liking the way my cheeks were burning.

He picked me up and flipped me facedown over his lap, completely blowing my mind. The two of them handled me like I was a little waif, and I still wasn’t used to it.

“You don’t need to spank me, Ilya,” I blurted. “I’ve already learned my lesson.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t forget.” He brushed up the back of my skirt and his warm, rough hand settled on my ass.

God, was he really going to do this? I’d been spanked erotically before, of course, but no one had ever used a spanking to discipline me. I wasn’t a child, and I’d never been spanked when I was one.

“Ilya, please. This isn’t necessary.”