Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Once she’s out of earshot, he adjusts his position to face me head-on. “I asked her to change our desserts to takeaway before instructing her to hurry the chefs if she doesn’t want me to close the restaurant early.” His pinkie teases me more than the clit stimulator as he traces a circular pattern on the skin high on my thigh. “It is rare for me to use words to clear a room.”
A brick lodges in my throat when he removes a gun from a holster on his hip and places it on the table. It looks fake, but what would I know? The one time I held a gun, I aimed it at my new husband’s head.
“Who are you?” I ask before I can stop myself.
Matvei smugly purses his lips before he nudges his head to a waiter rushing our way with two dishes balancing on his outstretched hands. “Eat everything on your plate, and I may consider telling you.”
“I’m not hungry,” I lie again, my words as breathless as the waiter when his sprint across the widespread floor space leaves his lungs without air.
As two steaks topped with lobster tails are plopped down before us, Matvei says, “That’s your second strike. You don’t want to know what will happen when we reach three.”
Feeling snappy about being denied my God-given right to come, I ask, “Who said I’m lying?”
“Eat,” he commands as if I didn’t utter a syllable.
Like a fool with no idea how dominant men act when challenged, I spit out slowly, “I’m. Not. Hungry.”
Before I can blink, the table is pushed back, spilling the pricy wine, I’m yanked across Matvei’s splayed thighs, and my backside is reddened for the first time by a hand not belonging to my father.
9
NATALYA
Matvei’s first strike barely registers since I’m too stunned to think. His second adds a pleasurable sting to the euphoria clustering in the lower half of my body. And his third entices a moan to rip from my throat.
Since I’m too busy registering the delicious sting of his touch, I don’t count the total number of smacks he awards me. His spanking goes long enough to bring me to the cusp of ecstasy but is too short for the food of the patrons surrounding us to go cold.
They must be accustomed to this level of insanity, because the instant Matvei pushed the table back, their eyes dropped to their laps, and they remain there until my stinging butt cheeks are planted back on my seat and the table returned to its original position.
After adjusting his tie that got disheveled during my punishment and hiding the twitch of his hand announcing he’s as hopeful for a second round as I am Matvei demands again, “Eat.”
When the cluttering dishware and clinking wine glasses fill the restaurant again, I pick up my fork and stab it into the gigantic chunk of meat on my plate. The steak is so tender I can pull away a forkful without needing a knife.
Forever stubborn and feeling a little silly that I was disciplined in a manner I loathed as a child but enjoyed this time around, I murmur, “What if I were a vegetarian?”
“You’re not,” Matvei replies, talking around a generous serving of lobster tail.
I swallow back the moan attempting to break free when the delicious flavoring of the steak hits my taste buds, before asking, “How do you know that?”
“Because your favorite pizza topping is pepperoni. You eat steak more often than any other animal meat, and you looked ill when Taylor told you her date was vegan and she was considering converting to impress him.”
It is an effort to swallow the meat even with it being as soft as butter. His accuracy is too on point to believe we’ve only just met. It confirms his statement that he’s wanted to bed me for months, which can only mean one thing. He’s been watching me for just as long, if not longer.
“How long have you been watching me?”
As he dabs at his chin with a napkin, he nudges his head to my food, refusing to speak until I continue eating.
When I stab a handful of beans with my fork and sway them toward my mouth, he answers, “A while.” I swallow the beans with a hearty gulp when he confesses, “It took me a couple of months to track you down.” His gaze falls on mine. His eyes appear smug. “The remembrance is the only reason I suggested boundaries for Saka instead of letting his incompetence lead you to my trap sooner.”
I don’t get two steps away from him. He snatches up my wrist with ninja swiftness before pulling me back into my seat. While pretending he doesn’t have the watchful eye of many on us, he says, “If I wanted you dead, you’d already be dead.” Even with his eyes bouncing between mine, I can’t miss the honesty in them. “I don’t want your blood on my hands, Natalya.”