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Kirill’s face is inches from mine. The bandage wrapped around his head takes nothing away from the pure fire that devours me in seconds.
It’s been a long time since he’s been this close, and I find it hard to breathe. That has less to do with his grip on my neck and more to do with the fact that I’m inhaling him and his addictive scent with each intake of air.
“I told you to shut the fuck up, Sasha.” His nostrils flare as tension rises from his shoulders to the tendons of his neck, and he clenches his jaw.
I swallow, and he must feel it against his fingers that are holding me in place.
“Did I or did I not ask you to stay put?”
“You did, but—”
“It’s a yes or no question. Did I or did I not tell you to stay fucking put?”
“You did, but I had a bad feeling and had to follow. Besides, I saved you, okay? If I hadn’t been there, you would’ve died!”
He doesn’t like that. Not one bit. His hand tightens around my throat further. “And if there had been anyone else there, they would’ve easily shot you.”
“But there wasn’t. It ended well.”
“After you disobeyed a direct order.”
“I still saved your life. Seriously, you should be rewarding me instead of whatever this is.”
“Reward you?”
“Yeah. That’s common sense.”
“Here’s another piece of common sense for you. In cases of disobeying a direct order, you’re to be punished.”
A war of shivers break out over my skin at the way his voice drops when he says that word.
“I…can accept punishment for disobeying orders, but on one condition.”
“What makes you think you have the right to make any conditions?”
I lift my chin. “The fact that I saved your life and proved my loyalty to you.”
“Debatable. But let’s hear it.”
“I want to choose my reward.”
“I never said I was granting you one.”
“Well, you have to. Otherwise, I’ll be punished for nothing, and I’m not game for that.”
I can almost swear that his lips twitch in what seems to be a smile, but it soon disappears. “It’s for disobeying an order, not for nothing.”
“I’m afraid that’s a dealbreaker for me.”
“You…” he trails off, closing his eyes for a brief second, and I wish I could touch his face.
I don’t dare to, though. Obviously, I don’t have the same confidence I did when I shamelessly kissed his cheek earlier.
Since I was overwhelmed by emotions, I didn’t quite think about the consequences of my actions. My only concern was having him there safe and sound.
When his eyes open again, I’m dragged into their world against my will.
“You get your reward,” he lets out begrudgingly and then adds, “but only within reason.”
I can work with that.
“Right now, however, is the time for your punishment.”
My yelp echoes in the air when he uses his hold on my throat to drag me to the bed and then unapologetically throws me on top of the mattress.
I prop myself up on my elbows and try, then fail, to control the chaos that’s whirling inside me. It doesn’t help that I’m on this bed that I haven’t been on in ages. The last time was when I fainted outside and he carried me here.
It used to smell like me a few months ago, but now, it’s only him, which is weird since I know for a fact that he barely sleeps.
Kirill stands opposite me and unhurriedly removes his jacket, revealing his white shirt that’s molded against his muscles. Red soaks the collar due to his injury earlier, but that’s the least of my worries when he unbuttons his cuffs and rolls the sleeves to his elbows.
“What’s going on?” My voice comes out shaky despite myself, and I have to clear my throat in order to speak again. “I thought my punishment would be push-ups or physical labor.”
“You thought wrong.” The whip of his words hits me across the skin, and I suppress a gasp.
“But that’s how the others are punished.”
“This isn’t about the others; this is about you.” He unbuckles his belt, and my eyes fly to his large veiny hands as he methodically removes it.
Without realizing it, I’m pushing back on my hands toward the headboard. “What type of punishment is this?”
“I think you know exactly what it is.”
I shake my head even as a frisson travels the length of my body and pools between my legs.
Holy hell.
Am I wet at the prospect of being punished?
No. It’s not about the punishment itself. It’s about the fact that Kirill will be the one conducting it.
He wraps the end of the belt around his strong hand, and I feel myself on the verge of hyperventilating. Gone are my attempts to act or remain strong. Isn’t it unfair that Kirill is the only one who has this inexplicable effect on me?
He's about to punish me, and my body chooses this exact moment to become sexually frustrated.
