Finding Isabella

| 15 - Alexi |*

*Warning: spanking, praise, light degradation

My heart breaks at Isabella's admission. The men that touched her will pay. I will torture them until they beg for death, and then I will kill them slowly. My strong fighter, the brave woman I love, was hurt badly by men who deserve nothing but death.

"When we get back to Italy, I will give orders for them to be found and brought to one of my warehouses for their punishment," I say softly. Isabella stiffens, rejecting my touch.

"I told you, we're not going to Italy with you," she states.

"We're not having this argument."

"I know we're not, because Christian and I aren't going," she pulls away and shuffles out of my reach. I get up, matching her confrontational stance, and cross my arms.

"It's like you want to hate me for no reason, regardless, you and Christian will be on that plane with me in the next few hours."

"Not happening."

"For fucks sake!" I shout. "Fine. You want to make me the villain so badly, then I will be. You will pack your bags. You will get on that plane. You will come back home where you belong, to my country, my house, and my bed. You will be my queen for as long as I live." I stalk over to her and grip her chin, forcing her to look at me in my eyes.

"If you want me to be the bad guy, then I will play the part. If you want me to give you a reason to hate me, then I will do so. I'm done being nice and patient with you. You are mine. You are the mother to my son, my heir. And you will be my wife—willingly or not. Now go pack. We leave for the plane in half an hour."

"Calum," she acknowledges her brother pleadingly.

"He's right, Isa. I know you don't want this, but you will come around. It's for the best," her brother says, backing me up.

"Dad? Jess?" she pleads for someone to step in. But they won't, they know not to. They know she is mine and there is nothing that can stop me from bringing her home where she belongs. She releases a loud, frustrated noise before stomping off toward the room we shared. I nod at her brother, father, and Jess to silently thank them for backing me up and then follow behind her. She tries to slam the door in my face, but I stop it with my hand. Now, she's pushing her fucking luck. I make sure to lock the door behind me, knowing I will need the privacy to punish her for the disrespect.

"You loved Italy. You will still love it," I say as I step closer and pull her in by her waist. Her eyes narrow at me.

"Why can't you just hate me the way I hate you?" she shouts as she tries pulling away from my grasp.

"Because you have given me no reason to hate you."

"You're my dad's biggest rival!"

"Not anymore. It was a misunderstanding."

"Fine! You want a reason? You were my failed mission. I was supposed to seduce you and kill you. I only came into your life to splatter your blood on your own fucking doorstep."

"Yet here we are. I'm alive, and you're in my arms."

"Because I fell in love with you!" she screams. Her anger dissipates and her voice softens, "I fell in love with you and I couldn't kill you. And then I found out about Christian, and I just knew I would never be able to complete my mission."

"Who hired you to kill me? How are you alive if I am as well?"

"The Russians. I was supposed to kill you and provide your head as a trophy, but I never went to the meeting point. I cut ties with my contact. They didn't know who I was then, and they don't know now. The League protected me, they even put you on their 'off limits' list so nobody else could take the job. I just need you to hate me. We only met because I was supposed to kill you, and yet you dote on me like I'm the best thing that ever happened to you."

"Because you are the best thing to ever happen to me," I grab her chin and tilt her head up to look at me. "I'm fucking pissed that you were supposed to kill me, and you will pay for that. But I still love you with every inch of my being. You want me to hate you because you feel guilty. You're punishing yourself for something that didn't even happen, amore. Stop punishing yourself. It's not healthy. Now, it's my turn to punish you—for what you just admitted and for the disrespect you've given me."

I let go of her and sit on the end of the bed, "now strip completely and then come bend yourself over my knee."

"But—" she starts to protest.

"Now, Isabella. Do not make me strip you myself, or I will spank you thirty times instead of fifteen."

She doesn't verbally respond to my command. Instead, she strips off all her clothing and walks to me, offering herself up like the good girl I know she can be.

"Good girl," I praise before holding out my hand. She takes my hand and I use it to pull her down across one knee, placing the other leg on top of hers to keep her in place. "What's your safeword Isabella?"

"Red, sir."

"Good girl. Now you're going to count each one, and thank me afterwards. Understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good." With that last word, I bring my hand down across her bare ass and relish in the smacking sound of my palm hitting her flesh.

"Ouch!" she shrieks and squirms to get away.

I tsk her, "wrong. We start again. Count." Then, I bring my hand down on her ass again.

"Ow! One. Thank you sir," she cries.

"Better," I say. My hand meets her bare cheeks four quick times in a row.

"Two, three, four, five. Thank you sir."

I spank her again. "Six," she counts. "Thank you sir."

Again. "Seven. Thank you sir."

When she finally counts the fifteenth spank, her ass is red and her voice is cracking. I can hear the sniffles from her crying.

"Now, isn't that better?" I ask as I let her up and hold her waist, forcing her to face me.

"Yes sir. I feel like I can release all of that anger," she admits, "like I don't have to feel guilty anymore."

"Exactly. That's what punishments are for, mio amore. They fix behavior, but they also help get rid of all those negative feelings you harbor toward yourself," I explain while I wipe away the few tears on her cheek. "Now, let me make you feel better."

Gently, I swap spots with her, lying her down on the bed so her back is touching, but her ass is hanging off. I get on my knees, so I can support her legs on my shoulders, and I can't hold back the small smug chuckle when I see how wet she is.

"It looks like someone enjoyed their punishment more than they admitted," I muse with a smirk and run my finger gently along her slit. She lets out a soft moan and presses into my finger, making me laugh again. Teasingly, I draw circles on her clit with my thumb, barely applying pressure. I slip two fingers inside her, loving the moan it elicits when I do, and start pumping. Slowly, she starts riding my fingers, setting her own pace and working herself closer to a climax.

"That's it sweetheart," I coax. "Fuck yourself on my fingers like the desperate little slut we both know you are for me. Just like that. We both know you can go faster."

"Fuck, Alexi," she moans. It's a tantalizing sound.

"You're going to come for me, aren't you, kitten?"

"Yes sir."

"Good," I say before diving down and sucking her swollen clit into my mouth. The action brings her crashing over the top, climaxing with a breathy moan and a few whimpers. She grips my hair like it's her lifeline, and it feels so damn good. I remove my mouth and fingers, letting her calm down.

"Fuck, Alexi," she pants as she comes down from her high.

"Let me grab a warm wash cloth and some lotion for that ass, mio amore," I say. "Stay there and rest, but don't fall asleep yet."

"I thought I needed to pack," she smiles lazily.

"We can leave later tonight, just lay down for a little bit."