Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
I turned my back on the view. It didn't interest me. I was not a master of the universe. I didn't care about watching the peasants on the street. Or controlling the kingdom I claimed.
I cared about leaving. I took one step toward the door.
"Where do you think you are going?" A low growl came from behind me.
I jumped and lost my grip on the towel, which slid to the floor. Artem stood in another doorway that must have led to the bedroom.
He had taken off his suit jacket and was working on unfastening the cuffs of his dress shirt, rolling the sleeves up to just under his elbows, exposing his thick, tattooed forearms.
"Back to my dorm. I'm sober enough to get back safely." I tried not to stare at his large, powerful hands and think about all the things he could do with them.
Had those hands brought people pain? Taken the lives of men? Had they brought pleasure to women?
"I don't think so. You misbehaved, little girl. You will take your punishment." His words sent a dark thrill through me, but I still took another step toward the door.
"I'm sorry I got drunk. I didn't realize how much I actually drank. It won't happen again."
"I know it won't, not after your punishment." He took a long step, getting closer to me. "Are you going to take it like a good girl, or are you going to make it worse for yourself?"
His hands went to his belt, and all sorts of dirty ideas went through my mind. Was he going to force me to my knees, make me suck his cock? Or fuck me into submission?
No one would stop him.
I couldn't even if I wanted to, and I still wasn't sure if I wanted to stop him.
My mind swam with filthy ideas and my core clenched at the images of the things he could make me do. I must have been drunker than I thought.
I shouldn't have wanted any of those things. He was practically a stranger. I didn't want him, but my body betrayed me.
Heat flooded my core and my knees weakened as he gave me another look while unbuckling the belt.
He pulled the leather strap free. My heart raced and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end at the hushed swoosh.
Still, I took another step back, and he took another one forward.
I expected him to drop the belt on the floor or maybe drape it over the chair.
Instead, he folded it in half and slapped the leather against his palm. The sharp crack echoed through the quiet room, reverberating in my chest like a second heartbeat.
"Well, Viktoria? Are you going to be a good girl and take your punishment, or—"
I didn't listen to the rest of that sentence.
I turned and ran to the door, just getting my hands on the brass knob when Artem's hand wrapped around my neck, his fingers gripping under my jaw.
His other arm wrapped across my torso as he pulled me into his body. His chest a wall of solid muscle against my back.
"I'm going to tell you a secret, pet," he whispered into my ear as he dragged me away from the door. "I was hoping you were going to make this a little more interesting."
"Get off of me," I shouted, squirming and prying at his arms in a futile struggle against his grip.
His fingers tightened around my throat as he pulled me into the bedroom. The pressure wasn't enough to cut off my air, just enough to remind me who was in control.
The shock was enough to shake the rest of the haze from my mind as I tried to fight him off.
He wasn't letting go.
"Take off your skirt," he growled, his breath hot against my ear.
"No," I begged. "Please, I promise I will be good."
"Then be good and take off your skirt. You will only make it worse by fighting."
"I'll scream," I warned.
"Do it. No one can hear you."
I had no idea if he was bluffing or not, but I believed him. The way he said it—absolute, final—left no room for doubt.
My traitorous body melted at his words, and I reached for the tiny hidden side zipper on the skirt. My fingers were damp, and my hands were trembling as I tried to grip it.
Artem let out a low growl of annoyance and grabbed the waist of my skirt, ripping the cheap faux leather from my body.
That was when I realized this wasn't just about discipline.
This was about control and power.
He had it, and I didn't.
He was going to punish me because he could, and he wanted me to know there was nothing I could do about it.
He was right, but I'd be damned if I was going to give him that satisfaction.
Fucking me was one thing, but trying to break me was something entirely different.