“No.”

I shake my head and fight back more tears. I’m getting really tired of crying so much. “You’re not telling me everything.”

He looks away. “Sofiya …”

“Can I please say my piece?”

After a moment, he nods.

After a shaky inhale, I speak. “The reason I was sitting by your office today was because I wanted to talk with you. I wanted to tell you that you can trust me. I know I ran away from you, and maybe I broke your trust in me when I did that. I don’t know why you’re not telling me everything, but I just can’t let it be because of me.”

“Is that what you wanted to say?”

“Yes.”

He places his strong hands on my knees. “I do trust you, Sofiya. You’ve proven yourself to me. I just don’t like to talk about it, and I need you to respect that.”

I want to object, but I know he’s right, even though it hurts my heart all over again. I slowly nod.

“Now,” he says, standing up. “Get dressed. I’ll pick a dress out for you, and then we’re going to the club. Tonight will be about pain, Sofiya. It will be a punishment for how you acted today with Mary.”

My heart clammers up into my throat. “But⁠—”

“No buts. I believe you when you said Mary slapped you. But you still need to be punished. You always need to act better. Tonight, I will make sure you learn that lesson.”

Getting punished is the last thing I want, but I love how I feel afterward—completely forgiven. Mikhail is always proud of me then. I need that right now more than anything.

Mikhail holds his hand out to me, and I take it, letting him pull me up so I can get ready for the night.

I’m dressed in another short outfit, this one light blue with kitten heels to match.

“You look perfect,” Mikhail tells me before we leave. I can feel myself beaming.

The club is exactly the same as last time. People enjoying themselves everywhere. Doms and dominatrixes pleasuring their subs. The smell of sex in the air. It’s electric.

I also don’t want to be here. I want Mikhail to hold me in his arms in our bed. I want him to hold nothing back. I want to know all of him.

But I don’t object because I want Mikhail to be proud of me, and this is the only way.

“This way,” he murmurs, guiding me toward a private room. A window is in the wall, so anyone can look in and watch what’s going on. And tonight, they’ll see me getting punished.

Inside the room is a bed, a bench, and a chair. Each has cuffs attached. The room is lined with blindfolds and gags and whips and paddles.

Mikhail gently shuts the door behind us, quieting all the sound. It reminds me of how alone we are together and that he can do anything to my body.

When he steps up behind me, I don’t dare turn around. “You’re going to pull your dress up around your waist, lie on the bed, and push your ass out. I’m going to use the paddle on you. You need to remember how much it hurts so I don’t have to do this to you again. Now, let’s begin.”

I don’t waste time getting into position with my dress pulled up. The cool air in the room hits my backside, making me shiver. It doesn’t matter how many times Mikhail has touched me. My body still anticipates his next move.

I press my face into the mattress and shut my eyes, wanting this to be over as soon as possible. I can’t see Mikhail, but I can hear him as he grabs a paddle off the wall and stands behind me.

“You disappointed me today, Sofiya. Don’t let it happen again.” Thwack. I jump when the paddle hits my butt, sending a stinging sensation over my skin. It’s so similar to Mary’s slap that I push it from my mind. I really don’t want to think about Mary at a moment like this.

I gasp as the next smack lands, my eyes springing open. People stand on the other side of the window … watching. Watching me get punished. Watching me get spanked with a paddle. My face burns from humiliation while my inner walls clench from desire.

Mikhail places his hand on my back as he continues to paddle me. Each one makes me push my butt out for more. I hate this. I don’t want this.

And yet, I need it. I need Mikhail to spank me and make me feel better. I need it like I need air to breathe.

“Will you remember to be my good girl?” he asks. Thwack.

“Yes,” I cry out, tears stinging my eyes from the pain and pleasure coursing through my body. Thwack.

“You won't get into fights with anyone ever again. Is that understood?” Thwack.

“Yes, sir.”

“You will be better. You will be good.” Thwack.

“Yes, sir!” My hands cling to the bedsheets. “Yes, I will!”

“Good.” He paddles me in quick succession before stopping. I slump against the mattress, everything gone from me. After placing the paddle back, Mikhail leans over me and rests his lips against my ear. “You’re forgiven.” He gently kisses my cheek, which almost makes me cry. How can he be gentle with me yet still hold me at a distance?

“Now, time for pleasure,” he says. I can hear his zipper coming undone and then feel his erection pressing against my entrance. Without even thinking about it, I arch my hips back, searching for him.

And then he drives his length into me with one quick, rough thrust. I choke on my gasp. Mikhail growls as he holds my hips and plunges into me. Out and in. Out and in.

He shows my body no mercy.

“I want to see you,” I say, then moan as he reaches between my body and the bed and begins pleasuring my nub.

“Not right now,” he responds. I almost cry. Even though this position feels amazing, it means I can’t make eye contact with Mikhail. It feels more like he’s using my body for pleasure rather than forming a connection.

He presses down on my bundle of nerves, making my hips shoot back. I moan softly. Mikhail doesn’t stop his affront of my body. It’s rough and raw, and I love it. But I hate that I love it.

My eyes catch the eye of a man standing outside the window. He smirks at me. People are watching us have sex. The thought is both exhilarating and mortifying. They’re just casually watching my husband take me with abandon.

I moan again when Mikhail rubs my clit harder. My hips jerk into his hand, needing more, always needing more.

Just when I’m so close to coming, Mikhail removes his hand and places it on my hips. Then he shoves his erection deeper within me.

“Please,” I cry out.

“You’re my good girl, Sofiya. You know what to do.”

“I need to hear it,” I admit.