The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

“I’ll feed you.”

“Little lapdog,” she mutters. “You brought me all the way from America so you could have a little lapdog. How quaint.”

It’s time she learned to curb her mouth.Chapter EightSadieI don’t really know what’s gotten into me. I’m so out of my element, scared and angry, it’s like the only control I have here is my ability to speak. He’s drawn me out into the open so there’s nowhere to hide. At home, I’ve always blended into the background. Avoided eye contact. Assuming the role of the timid recluse made it so much easier to avoid people. Relationships. And the inevitable pain those relationships bring.

And now he’s yanked me out of my comfortable hiding.

I knew it was inevitable he’d punish me eventually. He’s given me a few swats here and there, and threatened punishment. So when he pushes away from the table, his corded muscles around me flexing and bunching, and he turns me over his knee with effortless ease, I close my eyes in anticipation of what I know will come.

My cheeks heat when he turns me over his lap. Before his palm connects with my ass, I’m clenching and cringing in anticipation. Still, it hurts worse than I expect, his palm slapping my naked skin so hard it echoes in the quiet room. I hold my breath and brace for the second sharp spank. My eyes are closed, my only means of escape from the humiliating punishment. He gives me a series of rapid spanks before he speaks, and when he does, his tone isn’t angry but disapproving, like a stern father.

“You’ll speak respectfully to me from now on, or you will not speak at all,” he says simply, underscoring his words with sharp smacks of his palm. “You’re a little girl under my control who will learn her place.”

I don’t fight him. There’s a lump in my throat, and my body feels strangely heated and energized. I don’t know how to respond, so I don’t respond at all. Apparently, he thinks I’m sufficiently chastened, for he rights me with a fluid grace that surprises me. I blink, sitting upright on his lap, and he turns me to face him. His eyes are cloudy and severe, probing me.

“If you speak out of turn again, I’ll gag you. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir,” I say through clenched teeth. The audacity of this man infuriates me.

He stares at me a moment before he shakes his head.

“Do you have any idea what I could do to you?” he asks, his accent thick with emotion.

“No,” I tell him honestly. He’s a veritable stranger to me. I know almost nothing about him.

“I could hurt you,” he says, but he isn’t angry. His tone almost registers surprise. “Whip you. Put you in a cage and make you eat from a bowl.”

I wrinkle my nose at him. “Does that appeal to you?”

Taking my face in one of his large, rough hands, he grips me so tightly it hurts. “Your submission appeals to me,” he growls. “Your obedience. And I’ll do whatever it takes to get that from you.”

I meet his gaze squarely and give him the bald truth. Stripped and punished, I have no pride left. I have nothing to lose with stark honesty.

“I’ve seen cruelty in my life. I was raised on a constant diet of humiliation. If you think a spanking and the threat of more punishment will bring me to my knees in blind submission to you, you abducted the wrong damn girl.”

I’ve been beaten and starved, shoved in a closet and tormented. I hate thinking about my past. I hate remembering the pain and humiliation I’ve felt. But I learned how to withstand humiliation and never relinquish my dignity. He won’t get it from me this way.

“A spanking and a threat?” he asks quietly. Too quietly.

I shiver in fear when I feel something beneath my backside harden. Oh, God. I’ve given him an erection. I squirm in uncomfortable fear. This… this will be my undoing.

Leaning in from behind, his mouth brushes my ear. “Have you ever had your defiant mouth gagged with a cock?” he asks. My belly twists uncomfortably, and I try involuntarily to pull away from him but he’s too close, too strong. “Have you ever been spread on a bed and brought to the edge of climax so long and so intensely the very breath you released caused you pain and torment?” I close my eyes to shove the image away, but he continues his relentless torment. “Have you ever been forced to orgasm again and again not for pleasure, but punishment? No? Learn to obey me, and you may never experience the variety of punishments I have at my disposal.” Brushing my hair off my neck almost tenderly, he kisses the skin there. “This was no accident, krasotka,” he says. “I didn’t abduct the wrong girl.”