Page 89 of Cruel Demands

I look at him through my lashes. “Yes.”

“Tell me then. Slovami.”

Heat crawls over my cheeks. “You want me to beg?” He says nothing, his cock still in his hand. I glance at it and then back at his face. “I want to suck you.”

A rough sound leaves him. “Good girl.”

I wrap my fingers around the base and lean forward. The first touch of my tongue makes his stomach tense. I trace the swollen head, tasting him, and his fingers slide into my hair.

He doesn’t push. That restraint makes me bolder.

I take him into my mouth. There’s too much of him. My lips stretch, and I can only manage a few inches before my throat tightens.

Mikhail’s head falls back against the chair. “Blyad.” Fuck.

I pull away and take him again, using my hand for what my mouth cannot manage. I find a rhythm slowly, watching his control deteriorate. His fingers tighten in my hair. I hollow my cheeks and suck harder. His hips twitch. I pull back with a smile. His eyes open. Then his hand closes firmly around my hair and pulls me up from my knees.

I gasp. “What?”

“You’re trying to make me lose control.”

“I want you to feel good.”

“No,” he says. Before I can answer, he turns me and pulls me across his lap. “You want me to feel powerless.”

My palms catch against the carpet. “Mikhail.” He pushes my skirt up over my hips. Cool air touches the backs of my thighs. “This is ridiculous,” I breathe.

“Yes. It is ridiculous that I have to spank you to get you to behave.”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You told me you were a slut.”

“I was mocking you.”

His hand moves over my ass. Slowly. Possessively. “I know.”

The first slap lands sharply. I jerk across his thighs. The sting blooms beneath my skin. “Oh my God.”

His palm soothes the place he struck. “Too hard?”

I swallow. “No.”

“Do you want me to stop?”

My cheeks burn as the truth settles in. “No.”

The next slap is harder. I bite my lip to keep quiet.

Mikhail strokes me afterward, his hand spreading over the heat he created. He does it again, alternating between sharp impacts and long, maddening caresses. The pain becomes something else. Something hot. My hips shift against his lap. He notices. “Are you enjoying your punishment?”

“No.”

His hand comes down again. I gasp. “Liar.”

Another. My fingers curl into the carpet. I can feel how wet I am, feel it soaking into my underwear, feel the hard shape of him beneath my stomach every time I squirm. “You never wanted Dima’s attention.”

I look over my shoulder. “What?”