Captivated by the deadly mafia boss

Lena

It takes almost no time to get us back to Micah’s place. Or maybe it’s just the sensation of time flying for the condemned. Micah hasn’t glanced in my direction since he slammed the door at the club. He’s pissed, I get it, but such dramatics aren’t necessary.

The ride up the elevator with Micah standing directly behind me, glaring at the back of my head, sets my nerves dancing again. With as much concealment as I can manage, I take calming breaths to slow my racing heart, to get my lungs to work in correct order. I won’t lose against him; I can handle this and anything else the Ivanov family sends my way.

I step off the elevator as soon as the doors open enough for me to slither through and head directly toward my room.

“Lena.” His heavy tone stops me. “Follow me.” He saunters past me and continues walking straight down the main hallway toward the double doors leading to his room. Although I was tempted to explore, I hadn’t bothered looking around today. Who knows what lurks behind the two mahogany doors.

“Now,” he calls when he’s halfway to his destination and I still haven’t moved.

“Can’t we talk here?” I hurry my steps and catch up with him quickly.

“We aren’t going to be doing much talking.”

Nothing about his declaration gives me a warm fuzzy feeling. My feet agree and cement themselves to the floor. I’m easily within his grasp, but I’m not moving.

“Lena.” My name comes out on a heavy sigh. “I think you’ve been disobedient enough for one day, don’t you?” He pulls open one door and gestures for me to get inside.

From my standpoint, I can see a seating area. A couch, a recliner. Nothing too ominous, but I’m not really in the mood for risks.

“What are you going to do?”

His dark eyebrows shoot up. “I told you if you disobeyed there would be consequences.”

I swallow back the little squeak my nerves let loose. “What exactly does that mean?” I grip my handbag with both hands in front of me, as though in some dimension the five-inch pouch could ward off an angry Micah.

He cocks his head to the side, narrowing his eyes on me. I’m pressing the line with my questions, with my hesitation, but I can’t seem to stop myself. A freight train would have an easier time of slamming to stop at this point.

“You were told to stay home today.” He reminds me of my crime, but it doesn’t answer my question. “Weren’t you? Dimitri said he gave you the message. You have your phone, so I know he’s not lying.”

I press my bag, where my phone is safely tucked away, to my stomach. “How do you know I have my phone?”

His lips ease into a confident grin. “How do you think I found you so quickly, princess?”

Of course. He gave me the phone back so quickly because he put a tracker on it. As soon as I stepped foot out of the apartment, he was probably alerted.

“I understand you’re not happy that I left. But you were supposed to be home. You said I would get to go to my father’s house today. You said you were taking me out to dinner tonight.” I hold his gaze, but it takes so much energy not to tear my sight away from him. Even with that damn grin plastered on his lips, I can see the frustration in him. He’s not going to let this go.

“Things changed and you were made aware of that.” He shakes his head. “It doesn’t really matter, does it, princess? I told you to stay put, and you didn’t. It’s a fairly easy concept to understand-obedience.”

My stomach knots and twists. I’ve heard this tone before. Dominik uses the same one when he’s past the point of discussion. When he’s already decreed the punishment for the crime in his mind and all that’s left is to administer it.

“What do you want, an apology?” I raise my chin a fraction and straighten my spine. I am not a child and I will not be talked down to as though I am. “I’m sorry that I didn’t sit around here and pine for your return, oh master and lord of the castle.” I sweep my arm down in front of me while dipping into a curtsey. When I get back to my feet, his arrogant smile is gone. The devil is riding my way, and instead of locking the door, I opened it.

“You’ll be saying I’m sorry soon enough,” he promises and walks into the room. He shakes off his suit jacket, lays it over the arm of the recliner, and stands in front of the couch, beckoning me with a crooked finger. “Now, Lena. I had to leave a very important meeting to go find you. I’m not going to wait all night.”

My bedroom is only a few hundred feet behind me. I might be able to outrun him, even in my heels. But he has the key, and he already told me not to lock the door. How much do I want to risk going against him once more today?

With my head held high, my shoulders rolled back, I walk straight into the room. I toss my purse onto the recliner and fold my arms, ready to listen to whatever lecture he’s concocted. He’ll probably take away my phone, and he won’t let me go to my father’s, that’s for certain. Whatever else he throws at me, I’ll handle gracefully.

“Take off your shoes.” He flicks his hand toward the red stilettos I found in the closet of misfit mistresses. They aren’t exactly my size and have left my toes squished all night. Getting out of them is a luxury. While keeping my eyes locked on his-a feat I wasn’t sure I had the energy to conquer-I kick the shoes off. Instant relief floods my poor toes.

His eyes travel down my body, surveying the dress, and then my feet. He gives a victorious grin.

“Guess the clothes came in handy, huh?” He points to my reddened toes. “You’ll be swollen tomorrow. You shouldn’t have worn them if they hurt like that.”Content rights by NôvelDr//ama.Org.

“If you want to discuss my wardrobe, we can do it in the morning. I’m tired.” I force a bored sigh.

His left eyebrow arches and he begins to unbutton his sleeve. “You aren’t going to bed yet, princess.”

My skin crawls every time he calls me that damn nickname. I never asked to be the youngest in my family, or the only girl. I never wanted all the attention that was sprayed in my direction.

With his dark eyes settled directly on me, he rolls up one sleeve and then the other to his elbow. It shouldn’t bring any level of excitement to me, but heat spreads from my pussy upward to my belly. It’s because of his sculpted body. No matter his level of asshole-ness, the man is attractive. It’s a nonconsensual response.

“Take off your panties.” He sits on the couch and places his hands on his knees. “Then pull up your skirt.”

My ass cheeks clench at the indication he’s making.

“I’m not going to let you hit me,” I say, taking a wide step back.

He pats his right thigh. “You’re right. You aren’t going to let me do anything. You’re going drape yourself over my knee and then you’re going to ask me to give you the punishment you deserve.”

A jolt of electricity erases all thought from my brain.

“Why would I do that?” I finally pluck the right words from the windstorm my brain has become.

“Because if you don’t, I’ll save your punishment for when my men arrive in thirty minutes. You interrupted my meeting, so they are coming over here tonight to finish it. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind watching your ass turned red for the trouble your little trip caused them.”

The image he describes forms in my mind. I have no doubt he’d do such a thing, adding humiliation to my pain. They’d laugh at me-at the Staszek bitch getting what’s coming to her.

“What’s it going to be, Lena?” Micah runs his right hand up and down his knee, like he’s warming it for me. As though my entire body isn’t already on fire from embarrassment.

I haven’t been spanked since I was a small child, and it wasn’t even a spanking but a smack to my butt after my mom caught me stealing the bag of cookies in the pantry.

“I-Micah, I’m sorry. It’s been a really hard week.”

Understanding edges its way into his hard glare. “None of that was your fault. But tonight was all you. Now let’s get this done. Over my knee and ask for your punishment.”

I have only one hope left. Once I’m in position, he’ll let me back up with a warning that next time he’ll go through with it. This could be a test. Just to get me to understand what he can make me do-what he can do to me.

Clinging to that notion, I shuffle myself to his side until my knees touch his.

“Your panties,” he reminds me. “Remove them.”

I raise my eyes up to the ceiling. How am I going to get through this? Inch by inch, I pull up the tight-fitting skirt of the ridiculous dress until I can snag the elastic of my panties. His attention slides down my body to my hands as I roll them over my hips and push them down to my feet. I bend over to pick them up, but he snags them before I touch them.

“I’ll keep these.” He puts them on the couch cushion beside him. An insult burns my tongue, but the heat spreading across my cheeks helps keep it inside my mouth.

“Over.” He pats his leg again.

I raise my eyes from him, focusing instead on the arm of the couch as I bend over and crawl over his lap. He raises his right knee, tipping my head lower and my ass higher. I grab hold of a pillow and hug it to my chest, pressing my face into the couch.

Any second now, he’ll let me up with a warning. I’ve learned my lesson well enough. We can finish this now.

“Skirt.” He tugs on the hem of the dress.

“What?” I look back over my shoulder at him.

“The skirt of your dress-pull it up,” he says again. There’s no hint of reprieve in his dark eyes. Nothing but resolve.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I turn away from him and reach behind me.

“All the way up, Lena, to your waist,” he instructs.

Gathering up the material in my fists, I drag it up until my bare ass is fully exposed to him. Tears build behind my eyes, but I hold them. I won’t allow him to witness my mortification.

“There.” He pats the low curve of my ass. “Now we’re almost ready to start.”

The last bit of his instructions comes to my mind. I’m supposed to ask him for this.

“Unless you’d rather wait until my men get here?” He sounds genuinely curious, but it’s a front. All of this is just for show.

When I swallow, there’s a lump in my throat. It’s my pride, all balled up and ready to be swallowed down whole.

“Will you please-” I fist my hands into the pillow. I can’t do it.

“They’ll be here in probably twenty minutes,” he says, running his hand over my ass in circles. If this were any other moment, and if he was any other man, it could be comforting, good even.

“Will you please punish me for my disobedience?” I let out a relieved sigh. Now he can let me up.

“Of course I will, Lena.”

My eyes fly open just as the first crack of his hand hits my ass. Vibrations from the impact rush my body, but it’s the shock that has me frozen.

The second smack to my rear jolts me back and the heat spreads over my cheeks.

Over and over again he peppers my ass with his open hand, not missing an inch. What starts as a blanket of warmth quickly ignites into an ember.

“Micah.” I wiggle from side to side. “You made your point,” I say, shoving my arm back between our bodies and trying to shield myself.

“No reaching back.” He grabs my wrist and pins it to the small of my back. “And my point was made a while ago, this is your punishment. This is the consequence for bad girls who disobey.”