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“What the fuck did you just say?”
“You heard me.”
“I can’t have understood, because I swear you just said her food is laced with your cum.”
“That’s right. It’s mixed into her drinks and drizzled over her food. Everything she puts in her mouth is covered in me.”
My stomach roils with disgust, but I can’t help laughing. “You sick motherfucker. Why the hell would you do that?”
“Because she’s mine,” he says simply. “I want me in her, on her and when her cunt and ass aren’t dripping with me, I want her stomach full too.”
“So, you’re what… jerking off over her salad?” I cringe.
“No, I’m jerking into a cup and then drizzling it over her food and mixing it in with her drinks.”
His expression is placid, like what he just confessed to is the most normal thing in the world.
“I…” My mind blanks and I honestly have no idea what to say.
“You held her over your lap and spanked her ass ’til it was red and hot. I like to touch her when she’s unaware and have her ingest my cum. We all have our kinks.” Arching an imperious eyebrow at me, he dares me to disagree. Instead, I shrug.
“Fair enough. Just make sure our food never gets mixed up. I love you like a fucking brother, but if my food starts tasting extra salty, I’m going to have to kill you.”
His chuckle is full of amusement as he lifts his own glass up and drinks it.
“How did you know she’d go for the spanking?” I ask.
“I already told you, I wasn’t sure she would. I was upstairs and pissed and I just planned to scare her a little, but when I mentioned you taking her in hand, her eyes got wide and not in a scared way, in an intrigued way.”
“We talked when we went to the beach this morning. She agreed that it makes things easier for her to accept, if we take away all of her choices except for the ability to say who touches her and when. I told her that all she has to do is what we tell her to do, but that when she steps out of line, I’ll bring her back to us, the same way I did this morning.”
“By spanking her?” Dimi asks, his brows raised.
“By punishing her. Not always by spanking her, but yes, that’ll be part of it.”
“And she agreed?”
“She did. We upended her life and right now she’s fucking floundering. When you picked her clothes for her, it was easier than her having to accept the clothes we bought her. Although now that I’ve looked at the stuff Lev got her, it really isn’t her style at all. Taking away that choice made her life easier and until she truly accepts being a part of our world and being ours, I think we should carry on making the decisions for her.”
“I won’t go without touching her now I know how it feels,” Dimi says immediately.
Sucking in a breath, I shrug. “It’s the only choice she’s allowed to have, and if she says no, we honor that. We just have to convince her, not to say no.”
Nodding slowly, Dimi sips his wine, his eyes thoughtful.
“Should I go and check on them?” I ask.
“Yes. Hopefully he’s not making things worse for us.”
Bounding up the stairs, I strain my ears, listening to see if I can hear any shouting, but it’s quiet. Too quiet. Stepping through the open door and into the bedroom, I find Ali in the big bed, rolled into a ball, her back to Lev who is standing with his back against the closet door, staring at her with longing in his eyes.
“Hey,” I say, announcing my presence.
“She won’t come back downstairs,” Lev says quietly.
Without an ounce of preamble, I climb into the bed and roll her to her back, straddling her legs, while I pin her in place with my body.
“Vik,” she whines. “I just need some space.”
