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Sloane couldn’t help but be impressed by the woman’s magnanimous patience and genuine interest in everyone she interacted with. Ironically, it reminded Sloane of her days as a cam-girl. And just reinforced that what people were looking for—the world over no matter where they were or who they were—was just old-fashioned human connection.
Babulya gave them that and so they came back, day after day.
Sloane pulled her apron off over her head after the dinner rush slowed at eight-thirty, promising to be down bright and early the next morning. She was exhausted. But for the first time in a month, it was a good exhaustion, the kind that came from a hard day’s good work.
She retreated back to her and Nicholas’s room with a smile on her face.
And was surprised to walk in and find Nicholas waiting for her, seated on the couch, one fisted hand held in the other. She felt immediate trepidation and paused on the threshold, keycard still in hand. A ridiculous part of her wanted to run back downstairs to the café to hide out from him.
“Come in,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. She remembered that tone of voice and the things it used to do to her. Even now, a shiver ran down her spine at him using it.
Still, if he expected to continue lecturing her on what she could and couldn’t do with her own life, he had another thing coming, buddy. She straightened her spine as she took off her shoes and lined them up in the small entryway, not saying a word to him.
Even though she wasn’t looking his way, she couldn’t help but notice that he rose from the couch and came towards her. It was always like this—he entirely filled any space he was in, and she didn’t just mean his large body mass. It was just the way he had about him—he was larger than life.
When he reached forward and slid a hand behind her neck underneath her hair, her breath caught in spite of herself. He tilted her head backwards, forcing her to look up at him.
“We’re done with the silent treatment,” he stated. “We’re man and wife, and it’s time we both started acting like it.”
Sloane frowned, not sure what he meant but sure she probably didn’t like it.
Until his lips came down on hers. It wasn’t a long kiss, or even forceful, and he’d pulled back before she could even react.
“But you are my wife. And as my wife, there are rules you will abide by.”
Heat flushed Sloane’s cheeks, an angry retort on the tip of her tongue. Before she could lash out at him, though, he hefted her up in his arms and was carrying her to the bed.
“What are you doing?” she screeched. “Put me down.”
“So you can speak,” Nicholas said. “Good.”
He did put her down, but he didn’t stop manhandling her. He sat down on the edge of the bed and then grabbed her by the waist and pulled her towards him. She yelped again at being flipped around by him as easily as if she was a child and he was a giant. It was disconcerting to know that the whole time, he’d had this power but had been holding back.
Well, he wasn’t holding back now.
Especially when he—
“Let me go!” she shrieked again when he pulled her onto his lap. Facedown. “What the hell do you think you’re—”
But before she even finished her sentence, he’d yanked down her jeans and landed a hand on her backside.
She yelped in surprise and tried to twist to look at him over her shoulder. “Did you just spank me?” she shrieked, appalled.
“You are my wife and you promised to obey me. So when you disobey, you will be punished.”
“You son of a bitch, let me up right this second—”
Instead, he landed another stinging swat on her rump. She started fighting like a wildcat to get out of his hold but his grip was firm.
“Take your punishment, she-devil,” he said, “or I’ll double it.” He spanked her again.
She could not believe that he was spanking her! She’d never been spanked in her entire life. It was obscene!
He spanked her again and then he— Oh God he reached down further between her legs and started touching her there.
It was so unexpected after the stinging swats that she went limp instead of fighting at the unexpected spark of pleasure. What. The. Hell?
But God her body was primed.
He spanked her again and then, again, his hand was seeking between her legs, circling her nub with his thick, calloused fingers before stroking inside.
She let out a high-pitched mewling gasp of surprise, her legs jerking spastically as she came on the spot.
She blinked in shock, the pleasure still zig-zagging up and down her body.
“That’s right,” Nicholas coo’d, his voice now gentle. He continued stroking inside her with one hand, and with his other, instead of holding her down, he squeezed her raw ass cheeks. Manhandling her in a way she’d never experienced, never really imagined even though she’d said so many dirty words in front of cameras, had so many dirty things said to her and scenarios described.
