I briefly close my eyes as the cloth slides down my legs and bunches around my ankles. I try to forget what he’s seeing, my position—bent over with my ass in the air and in his full view.

It’s not difficult when his hand meets my backside.

The first slap reverberates in the air, harsh and ugly. Even though I’m still wearing panties, my ass cheek catches on fire.

On the second slap, my entire body reels forward on the wooden surface. I grip the edge of the table with rigid fingers as the flaming pain increases.

His hand is hard, merciless, with the sole purpose of punishing me, of cementing his authority under my skin.

But in that display of authority, as calm and commanding as it is, he shows me a part of him I haven’t witnessed before.

Control.

He thrives on it. In fact, he’s punishing me to ensure that I don’t challenge it—or him. And with each slap against my ass, he’s etching it into my whole being.

I wish I didn’t react to it. Better yet, I wish I viewed it like I did in the nightmare—as a violation. Instead, a shock of sensations explodes on my skin with each of his ministrations. It’s like something has been dormant and he’s probing it, awakening it.

My body’s reaction to his touch scares me more than his punishment. More than the nightmare.

More than anything I’ve experienced before.

Adrian grips my ponytail by the ribbon I used to tie it in and yanks me up by it. “Who gave you permission to dress like this?”

I purse my lips shut, but it’s not only because I refuse to talk to him, it’s also to mute the strange tightness coursing through my legs, my stomach, and even to my damn nipples.

It has to be because of the anxiety and fear. I refuse to believe it’s due to anything else.

Adrian slaps my ass again and a needy sound slips from my mouth. I trap my lip under my teeth so hard that I taste metal by the fifth slap.

I’m ready to bloody my lips and cut my tongue instead of showing him what type of effect he’s having on me. He won’t get the satisfaction of seeing me fall.

No one will.

Not even if my insides are clawing and revolting to release more sounds.

“You will know your place.” Slap. “You will not cross me.” Slap. “Is that clear?”

“Yes…yes…please stop.” I sob, but it’s for something different from pain.

My inner thighs are hot, tingly, getting stimulated by each slap. I don’t like this and would do anything to have it end.

He pauses. “You’ll do as you’re told?”

“Yes…” My voice is breathy—sultry, even.

When he doesn’t slap my ass again, I think he’ll let me go, but then two of his fingers glide against my folds over the cloth of my panties.

My head snaps back to stare at him at the same time as a wicked smirk paints his lips. It makes him appear like a villain who just found his next target. “So this is why you wanted me to stop. Did you like being punished? Did you get off on it?”

I shake my head frantically, refuting the evidence that he’s sliding his fingers over.

He leans over until his lips meet the shell of my ear. “Your soaked cunt says otherwise.”

“No…” I continue shaking my head, not wanting to believe that I’m the sort of person who’s turned on by this type of depravity.

I’m vanilla and always will be.

“Stop denying it, Lenochka.”

That nickname again. I don’t know what it means, but I hate it. I don’t want him to call me by it. I don’t want him to use me as if I’m really his wife.

I’m not. I’m only playing a damn role so I can survive.

“No,” I say, clearer this time.

He continues stroking my folds over the cloth and I close my eyes, waiting for the sensation to vanish, but with every brush, my skin heats to an alarming level. The handprints he left on my ass are burning hotter than when he was slapping me, adding to my agony.

“You can be stubborn all you want, but you can’t deny yourself, Lenochka.” He slips his hand under the front of my panties and his thumb finds the bare skin that his people waxed clean.

He goes straight to the swollen nub of my clit, as if he knows exactly where it is without looking. He flicks it once and my back arches off the table. Coupled with his expert, measured rubs at my folds and the stimulation of my ass, I feel like I’ll go up in flames.

With his hands alone, he’s pushing me off a steep edge. I can feel those noises attempting to break free and bite my lip harder, tasting metal.

But this time, I can’t control the explosion that ignites in my core and bursts through my whole body.

It creeps out of me slowly, but when it engulfs me, I’m a goner. Completely and with no way out.

I continue biting my lip, even as I shake with the violent pleasure he’s wrenched out of me.

I continue biting my lip, even when the feeling gets so intense that I want to scream out loud. Even when muting myself feels like I’m robbing my own pleasure. My desire. My terrifying lust.

A tremor still grips me well after Adrian removes his hand from my panties. He doesn’t release my hair, though, and remains like that long enough that my ass cools a little.

I want to steal a glance at him, to see how the devil looks after he gets what he wants. But I don’t get the chance to argue against that thought as he flips me around. My back meets the table, and I think he’ll fuck me or something, but he just keeps staring at me in that unsettling expressionless manner.

I can’t believe I’m thinking this, but I prefer the way his eyes darken over this. At least then I can tell he’s somehow displeased. But now? He seems like a tall, sturdy wall, impossible to climb or destroy.

The more he watches me, the harsher my breathing becomes. I hate being under his scrutiny. Or under his roof. I hate being under his anything.

He runs the tip of his finger over my bottom lip and forces me to release it from beneath my teeth. I forgot I was still muffling my voice even after I came down from my orgasm.

He caresses the broken skin, but it’s far from a doting gesture. It’s deceptive, secretly coarse and callous. “Hide all you like, but I’ll eventually bring you out.”

Good luck finding what’s not there in the first place.

Adrian Volkov might have thought he hit the jackpot by finding his dead wife’s lookalike, but what he doesn’t know is that he fell upon a shell.