Chapter 8 Svetlana #2
"I was arranging an extraction! Getting us out of this fucking country before Iosef's entire organization comes down on our heads!
" He's shouting now, his control finally breaking.
"I was trying to save your life, and you repay me by running off to get yourself killed!
You had absolutely no reason to think that I was doing anything other than exactly what I said I was going to do, and—"
"I have plenty of reason! You abandoned me before! And I don't need you to save me!"
Kazimir shakes his head like a dog shaking off water, his expression one of sheer astonishment at me.
"Clearly! You were doing so well on your own! The wolves were just about to give you a nice warm hug! That’s all.
You would have been just fucking fine if I hadn’t shown up, and not to mention those men who had you before.
They would have just given you directions out of the forest, I’m sure. "
I stand, ignoring the pain. "Fuck you."
"No, fuck you!" He takes two quick steps forward, close enough that he's in my face now, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. "You want to die so badly? Fine! But don't drag me down with you! I’ve put fucking everything on the line to save you—”
“I didn’t ask you to!”
“No, but you blame me for the time I didn’t!”
We stand there, both breathing hard, Kazimir glaring at me with a righteous fury.
“You’re spoiled,” he says in a low, harsh tone.
“I get you’ve been through hell, but you’re still a spoiled girl, Svetlana Morozova.
A princess who thinks she can do anything because no one’s ever told her otherwise, and who thinks the world will somehow work out for her despite it showing her very clearly that it won’t.
And based on how you’re talking to me right now, I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson. ”
“Oh?” I toss my hair back, glaring at him. “And I suppose you’re going to be the one to teach it to me?”
“I should.” His jaw clenches, a muscle twitching there.
“Any man who pulled that shit would be punished. You should be, too. You stole a gun, put us both in danger, and you might have compromised the only spot we have left to hide out until we can get out of here. You deserve to be taught a lesson, devochka.”
A sharp bark of a laugh bursts out of me, unbelieving. "Punish me? You wouldn't dare. You wouldn’t fucking dare."
His eyes narrow. "Wouldn't I?"
"No." I step closer, tilting my chin up. "You're too controlled. You won't even touch me when you want to. You won’t let yourself come near me if you think it’s going to push your boundaries. You slept in a chair to keep your distance from me. You think you're going to punish me?"
"Svetlana." It's a warning. I can hear it in his voice, clear as a bell.
"What are you going to do, Kazimir? Spank me?" I'm pushing him, and I know it, but I can’t stop myself. Some perverse part of me is itching for a fight, for him to prove to me that I’m right and he’s no better than anyone else.
And I’m so fucking tired of him calling me a goddamn princess.
"Is that what you think I need? Some discipline? "
"Stop." His voice drops, a low growl now. I see that muscle in his jaw twitch again, and I smirk at him.
"Make me."
Something in him snaps. I see it happen—the moment his control fractures, the moment the careful restraint he's maintained since he pulled me out of that cell finally breaks.
He moves fast, his hand closing around my upper arm in a grip that's firm but not painful. Before I can process what's happening, he pivots and sits down hard on the couch, tugging me forward.
"Kazimir—" I feel a flash of fear as I realize that maybe, just maybe, I’ve taken this too far.
But underneath it, I feel something else—something I haven’t felt in so long I almost forgot it existed. A pulse of arousal, a dark, hot throb of anticipation of what might come next.
"You want to push me?" His voice is low, dangerous. "Find out what happens next, dorogoy.”
He hauls me across his lap in one smooth motion.
I land with an undignified yelp, my hands bracing against the cushion, my ass in the air.
For a moment, I'm too shocked to react. Then the reality of the position hits me—how vulnerable I am, draped across his thighs, his hand resting on the small of my back to hold me in place.
"Let me go," I snap, but my voice lacks conviction.
"No." His hand slides down to rest on my ass, and even through the layers of clothing, I can feel the heat of his palm. "You wanted this. You dared me. Now you're going to take it."
"I didn't—"
He tugs the belt loose. The pants are so large on me that it’s a matter of a quick tug for him to pull them below the curve of my ass. He does it with one jerk… and I hear his sharp intake of breath as he swears in Russian.
He didn’t realize I wasn’t wearing panties.
I feel him tense… and then, underneath my hips, I feel him stiffen, his cock jerking to life immediately at the sight of my bare, slender, creamy ass.
Oh my fucking God.
He’s fucking huge.
For a brief moment, I think he’s going to relent, that the sight of my bare ass and his obvious arousal will bring him up cold.
And then his hand comes down on my bare, chilled flesh, hard.
The impact sends a sharp sting through me, and I gasp, my body going rigid. I twist my head around to look at him, my mouth falling open. “I didn’t—” I squeak in shock, my brain cutting off briefly.
"You didn't what?" He spanks me again, in the same spot. "Didn't think I'd actually do it?"
Another strike. Harder this time, and then again. The sting is building, heat spreading across my skin.
"You ran off into the woods with my gun." His voice is as hard as his cock underneath me, each word punctuated by another smack. "You could have been killed. You could have led them right back to us."
"I was trying—" I start, but he cuts me off with another sharp strike.
"You were being reckless. Stupid. You weren't thinking."
He's right. I know he's right. But the humiliation of being spanked while I’m held down across his lap makes me want to fight back.
"Fuck you," I spit out.
His hand stills for a moment. Then he laughs, a low, dark rumble in his chest.
“That was the wrong thing to say, dorogoy.”
The next series of strikes comes faster and harder.
He's not holding back anymore, and the sting is intensifying with each impact.
My ass is burning, the heat spreading, and I can't stop the small sounds escaping my throat.
I try to squirm away, but his hand on my back holds me firmly in place.
I'm not going anywhere unless he lets me.
"Stay still," he orders, his voice rough.
"No—"
Another hard smack, and this time I can't suppress the yelp. I squirm again, and I can feel how hard he is underneath my hips, his cock straining beneath me against the fly of his pants. He feels so fucking thick, and a spasm of arousal floods through me, imagining all of that pushing inside of me.
"I said, stay still."
He spanks me again, hard. The pain is building, a deep, burning ache that's spreading through me. My eyes are stinging with tears—from humiliation, from pain, from the feeling that I’m once again trapped with a man’s hand striking my flesh.
But this time… this feels different.
With each strike, each sharp sting, there's a jolt of something that isn't entirely pain. Heat is pooling low in my belly, a warmth that has nothing to do with the burning in my ass. My breath is coming faster, shorter, and not just from the exertion of trying to hold still. I squirm again, and I realize I’m enjoying the feeling of grinding against his cock, imagining what his face would look like as he pushed into me.
What it would be like to see him lose control over me, his body wracked with pleasure because of me, entirely vulnerable and at my mercy—
I can feel a deep throb between my thighs, a building need—
No. No, this isn't—this can't be—
He spanks me again, and I bite my lip hard to keep from making a sound. But my body betrays me, arching slightly into the strike instead of away from it.
And he notices.
His hand stills, resting on my ass. I can feel the heat of his palm against my skin as his fingers spread slightly, almost caressing.
"Svetlana." His voice has changed. It's deeper now, rougher, with an edge that makes my stomach clench.
I don't answer. I can't. My face is burning, pressed against the couch cushion, and I'm grateful he can't see my expression. I sink my teeth into my lower lip despite the pain of it, desperate not to moan, not to let him hear me want him.
His hand moves, sliding lower, and the touch is different now. His fingers dip between my thighs, stroking once over the swollen folds of my bare pussy… my bare, wet pussy.
"You're—" He stops, and I can hear the realization in his voice, the absolute shock as he finds that I’m soaked. On the verge, quite possibly, of dripping onto his lap if he keeps going.
I should tell him to stop. I should shout at him for touching me so intimately, push myself up, get away from him, salvage what's left of my dignity. I should do anything I can to stop this.
Instead, I stay perfectly still, barely breathing, waiting to see what he'll do. And I realize that I want him to touch me again.
He sucks in a slow breath, his hand not moving. I can feel how tense he is, and I feel his cock twitch beneath me, straining.
His fingers move across my swollen folds again, a slow brush of skin against skin, almost up to the peak where my clit is just barely exposed. A shudder runs through me when he stops just short of it, and my back arches, a small whine of protest escaping my lips despite my best efforts.
His hand goes still.
"Fuck," he breathes. "You're enjoying this."
It's not a question, but I answer anyway, my voice muffled against the cushion. "No."
"Liar."