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"Hands on that wall," he says in a low drawl in my ear.
I shiver. Yes. I've missed this so much. I brace myself against the wall and swallow hard. "Yes, sir," I tell him. Trying to rememberwhat it's like to submit. Little push, little pull. Let him lead. Don't fight it.
"I finished that article. It was quite enlightening. It seems as long as I don't prohibit you from breathing properly, a good spanking can actually enhance your hormones, and make you feel better about things."
"Huh. Imagine that," I say, wryly. But I don't move.
"About that disobedience…"
"When exactly did I disobey you?"
"When I told you that you always speak respectfully to me in front of my family, and my men. Both hands on that wall. Now."
The first slap of his hand against my ass feels so hard I almost lose it. I come up on my toes right in the shower. I forgot that water can amplify the effects of a smack. I hiss in a breath, but I don't protest, because I know I need this. I need to take my medicine.
He spanks me again, and again, working his way all around my butt, my upper thighs, pausing between smacks, stroking between my legs. I'm already on the edge. They say some women hate sex when they're pregnant and some love it. Thankfully for me, I'm in camp two.
"I seem to remember a couple of curse words from your mouth as well, my love," he says, with feigned calmness.
He reaches across me and takes something off a hook. What the – no. Polina. For Christ’s sake, why did you have to buy the bamboo bath brush?
"Stay right there,” he commands in a harsh tone. I stay in position, cringing for the first smack.
I am not disappointed. The brush whistles through the air before it lands with a thud. I yell out loud, because it hurts.
He traces the welt on my ass. "I fucking miss seeing my stripes on you. Jesus Christ, you’re gorgeous." By now I'm on the edge, practically ready to cry, but I don't want to. Not yet.
He leans one arm against the tiled wall, hot water cascading down his back and mine. His forehead to mine, he whispers, “You know that I love you. Do you know that, Aria?" There's a rare sincerity in his eyes, a vulnerability that makes me want to cry all over again. I nod and swallow. "I do,” I whisper. "And I love you. Do you know that?"
"I do now." He bends down, and oh, thank heaven, wraps his fingers around the back of my neck, holding me in place just before his mouth crashes to mine. I taste the salt of my tears and the heat of the shower, his lips, and the memory of orange juice at breakfast.
I'm transported into another time and place where I do nothing but revel in bliss. I've surrendered myself to him, but even more? He's surrendered to me. The two of us have become one. We truly have. And right here between us – Mikhail next to me, and the tiniest little heartbeat of a baby within me, we've formed our new family.
His rough hand cups my ass, massaging out the pain from the spanking that I craved.
"I love you, and I'm sorry I didn't give you what you needed."
"Mikhail, it feels so greedy for me to complain about anything when you give me everything I could want. All those clothes, the massages, and the breakfast in bed. The bubble baths and everything that I wanted. The computers and the monitors and everything, it's just…It's too much."
One sharp shake of his head. "It isn’t too much. It would be too much if you didn't deserve it, Aria. But you are my queen.”
That's it. Now I really am crying. Damn these pregnancy hormones.
He bends to take my mouth again, and after a long, lingering kiss, he spins me around and rinses my hair. I relish the feel of his thick fingers on my scalp. Hot water across my aching ass…
When the loud blast of an alarm tears us out of our reverie.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Mikhail
I’mout of the shower in seconds, my phone to my ear.
"Someone's broken through the perimeter." It's Viktor. "Lev got a notification that one of our security systems has been disabled. All-hands-on-deck, Mikhail. Keep her safe." There's a shout behind them, the sound of shattering glass, and his phone goes dead.
Fuck.
I turn to see Aria standing in the doorway, stricken. Water streams down her body and pools on the floor while she stands wrapped clumsily in a towel.
