The way he called me a boy who needed correction. My cheeks burn hotter than my backside, and it has nothing to do with the sets I am pushing.
By the time I step outside the gym, the early morning air feels cool against my flushed skin. I unlock my bike from the rack and swing my leg over the seat, ready to pedal the familiar route back to my apartment. The second my bottom makes contact with the hard cycle seat, a sharp reminder zings through me. I hiss and immediately lift myself up, hovering awkwardly above the saddle.
“Ouch… okay,nope,” I mutter under my breath, cheeks flaming even brighter.
My butt is still hot and tender from Kirill’s spanking. Every little bump in the road is going to be torture if I try to sit properly. I try shifting my weight forward onto the pedals, but it only makes the sting sharper.
There is no comfortable position so I end up half-standing on the pedals, wobbling slightly as I start to move.
As much as it stings, the sensation sends a completely different kind of heat rushing through me... I amincrediblyaroused.
My mind keeps replaying the scene on loop: the way Kirill pulled me over his lap without hesitation, the measured strength in each swat, the low rumble of his voice telling me I needed to learn respect.
The memory makes my thighs clench around the bike frame and a fresh wave of arousal makes my cock stiffen once more. I just can’t stop thinking about how small and helpless I felt draped over his powerful thighs, and how safe I strangely felt at the same time.
“Oh Jeez,” I mutter, my dick stretching my briefs again as my mind appears unable to focus on anything by Kirill. “Wait,woah!”
My head spins so much that I almost do not see the pile of garbage bags waiting for collection at the edge of the street. At the last second I swerve hard, the front wheel grazing the curb. The bike wobbles dangerously and I let out a startled yelp, heart leaping into my throat.
“No!” I gasp, braking sharply and planting both feet on the ground before I actually crash. My pulse races, partly from the near-miss and mostly from the dizzying mix of embarrassment, lingering sting, and undeniable arousal still flooding my system.
I stand there for a moment on the sidewalk, breathing hard, one hand still gripping the handlebars. Then a big, unstoppable smile spreads across my face. I cannot help it. The whole situation feels absurd and thrilling at the same time…
My bottom is throbbing from a spanking delivered by the most intimidating man I have ever met, I nearly crashed my bike because I was too turned on to focus, and yet… I feel lighter.Giggly and all silly. I feel alive in a way I have not felt in a long time.
Shaking my head at myself, I climb off the bike completely and start pushing it the rest of the way home. The walk gives my tender backside a much-needed break from the seat, and every step sends a little reminder of Kirill’s hand. I keep smiling the whole way, cheeks pink, mind replaying his final words and that faint approving look in his eyes when I whispered “Yes, Sir.”
By the time I reach my apartment building, Brando is waiting for a snuggle and my day is about to explode with clients andclasses again. But for these few quiet minutes on the sidewalk, I let myself enjoy the secret, buzzing warmth.
Kirill just spanked me in a gym locker room.
And instead of running away screaming, I am smiling like a Little who just discovered something wonderful and terrifying at the same time.
I push my bike into the lobby, still grinning, already wondering what will happen the next time I see him.
Because deep down, I know therewillbe a next time.
And the biggest part of me just cannot wait.
Chapter 8
Kirill
Back again.
Home.
Except, nothing is the same now…
The heavy oak doors of my father’s family home creak open as I step inside. The familiar scent of polished wood, old leather, and faint cigar smoke hits me immediately. It feels strange to be here now.
Both my parents are gone—my mother from illness, my father from a bullet to the chest only six months past. The grand hallway, with its dark portraits of previous Antonov pakhans staring down from the walls, feels heavier than I remember.
Yet this is the right place to hold court.
This house carries the weight of our family legacy, and I intend to preserve those memories while forging something stronger under my rule.
Ivan walks beside me, along with three of my most trusted generals and two seasoned assassins who move like shadows even in my company.
