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It brings me some pleasure to see her sitting gingerly in the chair at the table, clearly uncomfortable on her sore ass. It also gives me an uncomfortable half-erection every time she shifts in place, and I remember our session earlier. The vision of Caterina bent over and grasping the bedpost, her upturned ass welted and red isn’t one I’ll forget soon. Neither will I forget the sight of her legs spread and pussy dripping, her body responding despite itself, or the sound of her cry when I whipped that same drenched pussy with my belt for the first time.
I intend to punish her similarly later. But for now, her discomfort is distracting me from other, less pleasurable matters at hand.
Namely, what to do about my traitorous former brigadier, and the mutiny he’s enacted.
Liam will be arriving tomorrow, and Luca and I will meet with him then to decide what needs to be done. Until then, I can distract myself with my disobedient, wayward bride and the ways I plan to bring her to heel.
Caterina is almost entirely silent at the dinner table, and she stayed close-lipped all the way upstairs to our bedroom once we retire for the night, after wine in the living room with the others in front of the fire.
“It’s much more pleasant to be here than the cabin, don’t you think?” I ask conversationally as I close the bedroom door, striding towards the wardrobe and taking off my cufflinks. “A cook that can make us decent food again, good wine, better company.” I give her a terse smile, one that she doesn’t return. “Proper clothing.” I let my gaze rake over her, the smile turning lascivious. “Although I think now, wife, I would prefer you with less clothing.” I flick my hand at her. “All of it, off. Now.”
Caterina blinks at me. “You can’t mean to—”
The smile never leaves my face, though it doesn’t quite meet my eyes. “I told you, every night until you learn to submit to me. That begins tonight. Take that awful dress off. I don’t want to see it on you again.”
Caterina’s chin tilts up. “I like it, actually.”
“I don’t give a shit what you like,printsessa,” I tell her flatly, my voice cold. “I married you for a reason—your bloodline and your knowledge of this life. I thought that would make you an easy wife, one who would fit in without much trouble, but it seems I was wrong. If I have to break you to make you into the woman that I need, then that’s what I’ll do.”
Something crumples in her face at that, her skin paling slightly and the defiance draining out of her eyes. I don’t understand her reaction, but I push my confusion away.It doesn’t matter.I’m not here to worry about my wife’s feelings; I’m here to ensure that she doesn’t continue to make my life more difficult than she already has.
Things are going to be different between us now. Just not the way I had hoped.
“Strip,” I order her again, my expression taut. “I don’t like repeating myself, Caterina. You know that.”
I see her jaw tighten, but she starts to obey, slowly. She kicks off her heels, and I retreat back towards the bed, watching her as she slowly unzips the back of her dress, pushing it off of her shoulders and down her hips, leaving her in only the black panties that she’d worn underneath.
“You didn’t wear a bra to dinner?” I make atsking sound with my tongue, shaking my head. “That’s hardly appropriate for thepakhan’s wife, don’t you think?”
“They’re uncomfortable while I’m still healing,” Caterina protests, shrugging. “And I don’t really need one.” She gestures to her small breasts, and I let my gaze drag across them, savoring the sight of the small, perfect shapes and her pink nipples, already hardening despite the warmth of the room.
I know why that is, of course. She wants me, even though she doesn’t want to admit it. The things I do to her turn her on, but she’s too embarrassed to say it aloud, to give in.
Before I’m done with her, though, she’ll beg for it. Maybe not tonight, maybe not for some time, but my wife will be begging for me to fuck her before I’m finished allocating out all of the punishment that I have planned for her.
“Take them off.” I motion to her panties. “That’ll be an additional punishment for making me ask yet again.”
Caterina flushes, her cheeks turning a particularly lovely shade of pink as she obeys, hooking her thumbs under the edges and pushing them down her slender hips. I see the hint of dark hair as the panties slide down, and I give her a tight, forbidding smile.
“Go into the bathroom.” I gesture towards the adjoining door. “Now.”
Caterina follows my gaze down to her thick pubic hair and back up, clearly remembering what I’d ordered her to do back home, just before everything went to shit.
“Viktor—”
“Caterina.” My voice drops an octave, dark and threatening. “If I have to continue repeating my orders, your punishment will be much worse than what I had originally intended for you tonight. Now go. I’ll be right behind you. Into the bathroom.”
Her cheeks are flaming red, but she obeys this time, turning and walking in the direction I’ve instructed. Following, I’m treated to a lovely view of her perfect, pert ass, striped red from her spanking earlier, the welts bright against her pale flesh.
I gesture towards the granite countertop. “Can you sit on the edge yourself, or do I need to pick you up?”
I see another flare of defiance in her eyes, and I almost expect her to argue again.Go ahead,I think, narrowing my eyes at her. All it will do is give me yet another reason to dish out punishment, something that I’m more than happy to do.
She pushes herself up on the countertop, wincing a little as her ass meets the cold granite. Her thighs are pressed tightly together, something that I don’t intend to allow for very long.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her sharply. “As wide as you can, and stay that way.”
Caterina flushes even more red than she was before, if that were possible. Still, she dutifully obeys this time, spreading her thighs until she’s splayed open for me. I finally tell her curtly that that’s enough. I take a moment to enjoy the view—her pussy is as lovely as the rest of her, shades of pink darkening where the blood is rushing to her skin, her lips already plumping with arousal despite herself. I force myself not to grin—my wife likes me telling her what to do, forcing her to display herself for me, pushing her past her limits. Her body tells the truth, even if she won’t.
