Beyond Measure Read online Jane Henry (Ruthless Doms #2)

Categories Genre: Contemporary, Erotic, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Ruthless Doms Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76121 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 304(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
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“Did you hear my men initially question your sincerity?”

I did. I nod, my voice smaller now. “Yes, sir.”

“It is vitally important that we unite our forces in what we face, Caroline. And they will not readily defend a woman who doesn’t obviously defer to her husband’s authority. We have a hierarchy here, one not even my men will disrupt, for the lives of everyone here are on my shoulders. Even yours. Do you understand?”

Now that he puts it that way, I feel ashamed that I left the room.

“To be honest, I didn’t understand that, Tomas, but now I do.”

He nods. “And will you do better next time?”

“Of course. I’m so sorry.”

“Good girl,” he says. “I will consider that when I punish you.”

Oh my God. He’s still going to punish me? My heart races in my chest and my palms grow sweaty. There’s an inexplicable, expectant pulsing low in my belly.

“Is that still necessary?” I ask, my voice strangely high. I feel I need to at least try to defend myself. “I mean, we’ve already come to an understanding, and I’m not a child.” Now that I’m on a tangent, I can’t stop myself. “And frankly, I would like to remind you that I’m not your captive, but your wife.” I have talked myself into becoming indignant. “And remember, I was the one that convinced them. And to be honest, I don’t think you really have the right to punish me.”

Weirdly, in my heart of hearts, I don’t want him to let me off the hook. I want to know he’s a man of his word. And I’m quite curious about this whole punishment thing.

His brows raised, he releases my chin and reaches for his waist.

“It is absolutely necessary. You’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole now, Caroline.” I freeze at the sound of his belt being unfastened. “Lift your skirt and bend over the desk.”

“Tomas,” I whisper. “Here? Anyone could see.”

I’m suddenly dizzy with anticipation and fear.

“Good. Let them see what happens to the wife of the pakhan when she disobeys. Now, I will not tell you again.”

With a tug, he removes his belt from his waist and folds it over, then points to the desk with the looped end.

I don’t know how I do it. I’m so in over my head with this. I’m all kinds of scared and turned on and embarrassed, but somehow my body obeys despite my misgivings.

Because I know I need to do this.

I’m like a junkie waiting for her next hit. Chasing the high I get when he punishes me. Testing his resolve.

I obey. I’m aware of how vulnerable I am like this, where literally anyone could see me. Once I’m bared to him, I gingerly place myself over the desk and grasp the edge. I feel like I’m on display for everyone to see, though we’re technically alone in here. What if someone walks in?

“Is this part of your kink?” I say over my shoulder. “Do you like the idea of anyone seeing me like this?”

“Oh, so now’s a good time to mouth off, is it?”

“I just don’t know… I mean, really, Tomas… anyone could come in, and I—”

“I like the idea of my wife obeying me,” he says sharply. “And knowing that disobedience will bring about swift punishment.”

“You remembered my admonition about the panties,” he says with approval, making me squirm with arousal and apprehension. “Good girl.”

“I am trying, sir,” I say, just before the leather lash whistles through the air.

I hiss and make a sound like a little squeak, but it doesn’t hurt quite as badly as I thought it would. It’s more like an erotic burn, leaving heat and arousal in its wake.

“As my wife, I’ll expect you to obey,” he lectures in that deep, growly voice, before another hard stripe of his belt lands across my ass. This hurts worse than the first, and I’m closing my eyes to brace for another spank. “And I don’t need a reason to punish you, little datka. Give me a reason, and you’ve made my day.”

The leather slices through the air again, and again, and again, painting my ass with throbbing heat, but it ignites something else within me, molten and simmering just below the surface as he lectures and corrects. He’s strong. He’s capable. And he’s ferociously possessive.

My husband.

I’m panting by the time he’s done, vaguely aware of him lacing his belt back through the loops on his pants. His large, calloused palm caresses my scorched ass, and he squeezes. I come up on my toes from the pain and intensity.

“Tomas,” I breathe. “Oh, ouch.”

“Learned your lesson, then, wife?”

“I have.” I part my legs, giving him an open invitation.

“And what is it?”

“If you tell me to stay put, stay put.” He doesn’t touch me between my legs, and I’m dying for some relief and pleasure. I spread my legs wider.



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