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Since having sex, it’s all I’ve been craving.
“You disrespected him, Shaw. You need to learn to rein it in, for both our sakes.”
His narrowed eyes lock with mine in the mirror as he holds a hand towel to his shoulder. “Rein it fucking in?” he grits out and then follows it up with a hiss. “Your brother shot me for having an opinion, Emi. With a fucking gun!” He booms, making the muscles in his neck protrude.
I roll my eyes, used to men screaming and shouting to get their point across.
“Don’t roll your goddamn eyes at me, Emi.”
“You’re being an ass,” I bite back, then clamp my lips shut, knowing I overstepped.
His jaw tics and his face darkens. His blue eyes are focused on me, making me swallow at his scrutinizing stare. “Call me an ass one more fucking time and see what happens,” he grits back, edging for a fight.
My pulse quickens and my heart races. I bite my lip, torn between making matters worse and wanting to calm him down. Yet I find myself willing to push the boundaries further to find out what he could do to me. The tension is thick between us, his bullet wound forgotten. He glares at me daringly.
I stare straight back at him and raise my chin. “You’re an ass.”
Fire flares in his eyes as he snaps out of our stare-off and lunges toward me, making me back into the bedroom.
Shaw spins me around, and before I know what is happening, he has my wrists behind my back and the belt from my robe bound around them.
“Sh-Shaw?”
“Shut the fuck up and take your goddamn punishment.” I struggle to contemplate what’s happening as he pushes me over the bed with my face pushed into the mattress and my ass up in the air.
“Have you any fucking idea how hard it is to sit there and not have a damn opinion where your brother is concerned, Emi?” I want to scoff and ask him if he’s joking.
“Have you?”
I don’t reply. Like the good Mafia princess, I don’t respond.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch him snag my hairbrush from the dresser. Cold air hits my ass cheeks when he raises my robe, making me tense with uncertainty.
His hand rips through the air and a sharp, hard smack hits my ass, causing me to wince and bite into my bottom lip. I whimper into the mattress from the sting left behind by the hairbrush.
“Then I have to put up with your shit when all I want is silence.”
Smack.
The pain sears into my flesh.
Smack.
But this time, I surprise myself when I whimper into the sheets, the sound no longer coming from a place of discomfort. It comes from somewhere else; it comes from arousal at his dominance.
“Some fucking understanding.”
My heart seizes in my chest at his words, and I make a mental note to be there for him. Be the wife he needs me to be.
Smack.
My lips part and I moan against the sheets as my clit throbs on each punishing smack, my ass now burning with heat.
After another brutal smack, he stops, and I turn my head at an awkward angle to see his chest heaving. His eyes are locked onto my ass, completely transfixed.
“Fuck. Why the hell does this turn me on so damn much?” he mumbles as though shocked, then drops the brush to the floor.
I can’t help the word as it tumbles from my mouth on a plea. “Please.”
