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“U-uh, f-four,” she stutters, tensing from the heat of my rage.
I stalk past her without a word, heading directly for the hall of rooms. My hands fist as I consider just what I’m going to do. I can’t start a war with Ilya’s Bratva over this, but I can punish Anya so she’ll never dare speak to another man again.
When my eyes land on door four, I kick it open with such force that it slams against the back wall of the sex room. Their scene appears to already be well underway, with Ilya’s dark-haired girl’s legs spread wide as he penetrates her with some kind of toy.
Irritation compresses Ilya’s brows into a deep frown as he turns to see who’s interrupting him. The look of shock on the dark-haired girl’s face says I’m the last person she expected to see. Her eyes flick to my right as an expression of concern replaces her surprise, and I turn to Anya sitting in a high-backed chair.
A deep blush colors her cheeks as she meets my eyes.
“Nicolo,” Anya gasps. She cringes away from me as soon as she reads the fury that contorts my face into a snarl.
“Is this what you want?” I demand icily, closing the distance between us in a few strides. “For a minute there, I thought you might not enjoy punishment, but you sure do search it out, don’t you, little slut?” Grabbing Anya’s arm, I haul her out of her chair, surprisingly grateful to find she’s still fully clothed. If she were participating in Ilya’s scene, as I’d thought she might be, I possibly could have gone completely unhinged. “If you like punishment, then I can give that to you.”
I don’t bother speaking to Ilya or his girl as I drag Anya from the room and slam the door shut behind me. Stumbling in my wake, Anya tries to keep up as I pull her down the hall until I find an open door. I shove her inside so forcefully she falls to the floor, barely catching herself in time to stop from faceplanting, her hands slapping against the wood boards.
“You’re mine,” I growl, locking the door behind me. I strip my shirt forcefully and toss it aside as I approach her. “You don’t get to ignore my messages while you watch your little ballerina friend get fucked. No one gets to turn you on but me, you horny little flirt.” I stoop before her until my face is inches from hers. “Did it turn you on to watch them?”
Anya shakes her head, but the blush that leaves splotches of color across her chest tells me she’s not being honest.
“No?” I challenge, and Anya bites her lip. “Take your panties off,” I command, holding out my hand for her to give them to me.
Anya hesitates, cringing further from me as her blush intensifies. Fear flickers in her blue eyes, and I know it’s because she’s scared of getting caught lying after last weekend. When she doesn’t do as I say, I force the issue. Gripping Anya’s knee, I shove her legs apart and reach beneath her simple maroon dress, something she must have bought recently for herself; that’s not one of the high-end outfits I gave her but still newer than the rags she used to wear. It’s soft and flowing, modestly coming down to her knees and elbows, a perfect dress for me to rip off of her after I prove she’s lying to me.
Anya gasps as I cup her pussy, feeling the warmth of it before I curl a finger around her panties to stroke between her folds. My cock throbs at the slick arousal I find there. She’s good and ready to be fucked, and I haven’t even kissed her yet. Knowing that she was turned on by watching someone else’s kinks gets me harder, even as it pisses me off.
“I thought you learned your lesson about lying to me, dirty little slut. But apparently not.” Gripping her chin firmly, I pull Anya forward until I can smell the sweet scent of wine on her breath. “Stand up,” I whisper, pouring every ounce of my fury into my command.
This time, Anya does as I say, slowly rising as I follow her to a stand. I can see her pulse racing in her neck, the way her pupils dilate, and her tongue darts out to wet her lips as her eyes follow me in silent question. When she’s standing straight once more, I lean down to grip the hem of her dress and twist it around each of my fists, my eyes never leaving hers.
With a violent jerk, I rip her skirt straight up the middle, slowly working my way toward her collar as I destroy her dress. “You don’t deserve to buy new clothes with the money I gave you when you don’t know how to behave,” I state coldly and am rewarded by the sight of tears brimming in her eyes.
When I expose her breasts, shoving the remains of her dress over her shoulders and down her arms, she is wearing a proper bra rather than one of her sports bras. But this one is more utilitarian without an inch of lace in sight.
“Take it off,” I command, eyeing it with distaste.
Anya jumps to do as I say this time, reaching behind her to release the clasp and tossing aside her bra before I can destroy it too. Her nipples pucker as soon as her breasts are bare, and I reach up to cup them. My cock stiffens in my pants at the supple soft skin and the taut nub that hardens further at my touch.
“Now. Take off your panties,” I repeat, glancing down at the simple cotton hiphuggers.
Anya does as she says, placing them in my hand, which I hold out to her once more. She stands straight again, her arms unconsciously shifting to cover her naked body. I slap them away with my free hand, and she jumps at the unexpected contact.
“Put your hands behind your back,” I command.
Anya does, her chin dipping submissively. The shift in behavior makes me pause, but my anger keeps me on track, and I lift her panties to my nose as I inhale the tangy scent of her arousal there. Fuck, she smells delicious. I’m tempted to taste her, but I’m not about to go down on her when she needs to learn that my needs are what matter in our arrangement. That’s what she should be focusing on, obeying me, ensuring she does as I say.
“Stick out your tongue,” I order.
Anya lifts her head to obey, her pink tongue spreading out over her bottom lip. I press the wet spot on her undies against her tongue.
“Taste that?” I hiss.
Anya nods as she keeps her tongue extended from her mouth.
“Don’t ever fucking lie to me again, Anya.” Then I shove her panties into her mouth and press her jaw closed. “Get onto the bed,” I say.
I don’t wait to see if she does as I tell her. Heading over to the wall of toys, I snatch a flogger from the rack along with a strand of bondage rope. I’m pleased when I turn and find her sitting on the edge of the bed, her knees pressed together, her arms wrapped around her waist, and over her breasts. Her eyes follow me, growing round as she sees the flogger. She pales visibly as I toss them onto the bed and tell her to lie in the center.
Watching her do as I say as she crawls farther onto the bed, exposing her ass and pussy, even when she clearly doesn’t want to, makes my cock ache with anticipation. Flipping onto her back, Anya watches me with a guarded expression.
