Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) by Rina Kent

I give him a bemused stare. “What?”

He grabs me by the waist and tugs so he’s sitting on the bed and I’m right between his legs.

I have no clue what’s happening until he throws the clothes behind him and opens the nightstand, producing a small gadget. “Punishment first, Princess.”





14





Rai





I stare blankly at the thing in Kyle’s hand. I didn’t see it wrong the first time.

It is a sex toy.

The shape is weird, long at one end and short at the other. I’ve always been content with my own fingers and never really used vibrators, so I have no clue what that is.

All I know is that there’s no way in hell that gadget is coming anywhere near me.

“You’re out of your damn mind if you think I will let you use that thing on me.” I try to push Kyle away, but he effortlessly keeps me trapped between his legs, using his firm grip around my waist.

“It’s the punishment you asked for, though it’s not really a punishment since it will bring you pleasure.”

“You honestly thought I would let you punish me? Me? Rai Sokolov?”

His lips tilt at the corner as strokes his finger along my side, and although his skin is separated from mine by the towel, it’s almost like he’s caressing me directly. It’s gentle but feels callous, savage, and with the intent to stimulate the deepest, darkest parts of me. It doesn’t help that I’m still terrifyingly sensitive after that orgasm.

“You do like punishment. You just don’t like to admit it. If I reached under this towel, I think I would find the evidence of how truly affected you are by the word ‘punishment’.”

Air stops moving in and out of my lungs, and I feel the asphyxiation as I tense. What if he actually checks under the towel? The last thing I want right now is to get caught in Kyle’s orbit after I’ve hardly left it.

But did I really leave if he keeps dragging me back in? If he effortlessly provokes parts of me I didn’t even realize existed?

“Don’t,” I say in my stern tone.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t touch me.”

“Are you that scared of your body betraying you?”

“I just don’t want your filthy hands on me.”

His jaw ticks as his hold tightens around my waist to the point of inflicting pain. In a fraction of a second, his mood goes from semi-light to full-on severe. “You came like a slut by these filthy hands, Princess. So how about you drop the high-and-mighty attitude?”

“You agreed to marry me, flaws and all, so you kind of have to accept me the way I am.”

“As do you—filthy hands and all.”

We stare at each other for mere fractions of a second that seem like years and decades. I didn’t mean it as a jab against his origins. It’s a defense mechanism of mine so I can create distance between us—though it’s an epic fail thus far.

In so little time, Kyle managed to get so close to parts of me I’ve been diligently hiding from the world, and that’s dangerous. Actually, it’s more than dangerous. It can destroy what I’ve been building for long, painful years.

“You’re not putting that toy inside me.” I stare him square in the face. “You can’t force me.”

He pauses for a second as if contemplating if he should do just that, but then he speaks with a calm that takes me aback. “Let’s make a bargain, since you love those so much.”

“What type of bargain?”

“You’ll wear any toy I want you to wear in exchange for information about where the Irish are going to strike next.”

I narrow my eyes. “How would you know that?”

“I have a spy.”

“The brotherhood’s spy?”

“No, mine. A colleague of sorts.”

“Vlad has his spy, too. He will find out.”

“His spy isn’t as highly ranked as mine.”

“How highly ranked are we talking about?”

“High enough that he can rearrange things so the Irish hit exactly where the Bratva want them to. Remember your recent plan about luring in the Italians to take the fall?”

“You’re supposed to do that without resorting to bargaining with me. You’re part of the Vory now, and it’s your duty to help.”

“Not if it doesn’t benefit me.”

“I will tell Sergei.”

“And I will just deny it. Do you have evidence of my spy’s existence?”

Ugh. The infuriating asshole. He hit me on the arm that hurts the most. There’s no way I’ll let go of such a golden opportunity, and Kyle knows that more than anyone.

“What’s it going to be? My offer expires in about…three, two—”

“Fine!” I heave out. “Just get it over with.”

He grins like the Cheshire Cat. “Glad to do business with you.”

“I’m sure you are,” I mutter under my breath. He tugs on the towel, but I plant a hand on it. “You don’t need to remove it.”

“That’s up to me to decide, and I say it needs to be gone.” With a swift twist of his hand, he yanks the towel free, letting it pool around my feet. I’m standing completely naked in front of him, again.