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I couldn’t let her go, not when the danger was so real.
“Anastasia, please understand,” I pleaded. “It’s not safe for you out there. The Colombians will come after you, or worse, use you to get to Connor. I can’t risk that.”
Anastasia’s defiance shone through every inch of her body. She crossed her arms, her fingers tapping impatiently against her bicep, and her foot began to tap an erratic rhythm against the floor. Her gaze remained locked on me, challenging and unwavering. There was a fire burning in her eyes that refused to be extinguished.
She reminded me of an unruly teenager rebelling against the rules, determined to make her own choices, consequences be damned.
If she was going to act like a petulant child, I was going to treat her like one. In this, my brother would understand. Hell, he might even want to do what I was about to do myself.
“If you keep pushing the issue, Miss Kozlov, then I’m going to have to take you over my knee and spank you,” I threatened.
Her shoulders stiffened, causing her to straighten up beside the doorframe. Her eyes widened, and her mouth was slightly agape, betraying her surprise. She leaned forward, as if trying to comprehend the enormity of my threat, her fingers gripping her forearms with white-knuckled tension.
She hadn’t expected that.
“A spanking,” she deadpanned. “You can’t be serious.”
“Entirely serious, young lady. You will stay here in the safehouse, and that’s that,” I stated, leveling my eyes with hers. If she kept pushing, she would soon find out exactly how serious I was.
“I’m not a child,” she scoffed, taking a step back.
“I know,” I replied, raising a single eyebrow suggestively. She was a fully grown woman, and I intended to spank her just like one if it came to that.
With a subtle, suggestive roll of my sleeves, I intended to emphasize the seriousness of my threat. I could see her observing my movements, her gaze flickering between my face and my arms. Though she had taken a step back, she wasn’t backing down. She had no intention of being the first to yield. I could see it written all over her face.
“The moment you leave, I’m just going to see myself out,” she muttered, practically baiting me into action, and a part of me actually wondered if shewantedme to spank her.
“Have you ever been spanked, Anastasia?” I asked, my interest peaked. I watched her swallow, albeit a bit nervously, and I leaned forward, placing my elbows on the desk.
“No, but what does that matter?” she questioned, her petulance dripping from every syllable that fell off those perfect lips.
I simply smiled, staring back at her with curiosity now. Her hands were pressed against her stomach, revealing her anxious jitters even though she tried very hard to hide them. Her gaze burned into mine and then flicked down to my hands, watching me with wary eyes as I flexed and cracked my knuckles.
She couldn’t have torn her eyes away even if she’d tried. Damn, I’d give up anything in the world to see her look at my cock just like that.
She belongs to your brother, for fuck’s sake. Get a hold of yourself.
“You can’t just spank me and tie me up to keep me here,” she retorted.
Truthfully, the idea of her bound up in my bed with a bright red bottom was the most tempting thing I could have ever imagined.
Fucking hell, what was I getting myself into?
I tapped my fingers on the desk and leaned forward. It was too late to turn back now.
“You will remain here at my safe house until I return. If you continue to defy me, we’ll deal with your spanking right here and now.”
“I’m going back home,” she announced.
I pushed my hands against the desk and stood up.
She took another step back, her body flinching just the tiniest bit, but still she remained right where she was.
I rounded my desk and crossed the room in two large strides. With a pertinent look, she lifted her chin and stood her ground.
Anastasia needed a firm lesson as to who was in charge, and it wasn’t her.
It wasme.
