Chapter 74 Begging To Be Punished

Chapter 74 Begging To Be Punished
Dmitry

Braide leaves without saying goodbye, which is fine by me, the fucker’s presence was an inconvenience to me anyway.

I didn’t bother seeing him out. We’ve said everything that needed saying and a few things that didn’t need saying at all, and I have no interest in extending this morning any further than it’s already gone.

He said he came here for Rhonda but I could see the way his eyes were devouring my Kitten.

I pour a coffee I don’t particularly want and stand at the counter drinking it anyway, anything to do with my hand is better than giving in to the urge to break other parts of his body.

The house settles into quiet around me and I bask in it for a moment because silence means I can think without someone’s face making me want to put my fist through a wall.

Except the quiet feels off.

I set the mug down and stand there trying to locate the thing that’s bothering me. It takes about four seconds.

I walk to the bottom of the stairs.

“Gianna.”

“Kitten”

I heard nothing but I calmed down. Knowing my kitten she could be in the shower or maybe she had her earphones in.

She could be doing that thing she does at times where she hears me and decides not to answer purely in spite or if she was in the mood to be bratty, which is both infuriating and one of my favourite things about her simultaneously.

“Gianna.”

Still nothing.

I took the stairs three steps at at time and knocked on her door but I got no response. I push it open and stand in the doorway, observing every detail of the empty room.

Her bed was unmade, so she wasn’t live on goodgirlgonewild; her bonnet was sitting on the floor beside the chair, her phone charger still plugged into the wall, cable hanging loose but there was no phone attached to it.

She left in a hurry or she left without thinking and with Gianna those two things are almost always the same thing.

I came back downstairs and called the one person I’ve asked to keep a close watch on her.

“Donny.”

He appears at the end of the hall immediately, reads my face in about half a second and straightens.

“Miss Gianna, sir. She took the back stairs roughly an hour ago according to the CCTV footage. I assumed you were aware.”

An hour ago? I stare at him like he has grown two heads.

“You assumed,” I repeated with my eyebrow raised in disappointment.

He has enough sense to say absolutely nothing after that. I dismiss him with a look and he disappears.

I stand in the middle of the living room with my phone in my hand and try to be rational about this.

She’s an adult and she could leave the house. She has a life that exists outside of these walls and she’s allowed to live it without clearing it through me first. I know all of that.

I know all of that and I’m still standing here while my heart got creative with different painful scenarios she could be in. With Kevin? Braide?

I opened the Tamer chat, maybe she was live elsewhere or maybe she dropped a message but there was nothing and according to the site she logged off hours ago and hasn’t been back.

I scroll to her last message and read it again.

Kitten: kitten, I think it’s time to go house hunting and stuff.

I read it earlier and thought she was just talking, the way she says things sometimes that sound like decisions but are really her thinking out loud.

But now I’m reading it again and it sounds less like thinking out loud and more like she already made up her mind about something.

I put the phone in my pocket to watch the cctv footage Donny was referring to.

The grainy video showed her leaving through the back stairs and not past the living room where Braide and I were sitting.

The back stairs, which means she didn’t want to be seen leaving and she didn’t want to be stopped and she did that deliberately. Gianna does nothing without a reason and even her impulsive decisions have reasons underneath them, they’re just faster than most people’s.

I paced the length of the room once while refreshing my messages on both phones but it’s obvious that she didn’t drop a text, there was no sign of a note in her room earlier and she didn’t ask Donny to pass a message, nothing.

My pretty dirty kitten was really begging to be punished.

I tried to distract myself with thoughts of teasing her without making her cum, slapping that wet greedy pussy of hers without penetrating even if she begged for it.

I thought about being the tamer on the phone, watching her touch herself while telling her not to cum. I imagined letting her watch me play with my dick and my piercings without letting her touch herself at all.

But the fact that I have no idea where she is is doing something unpleasant to my chest that I don’t have a word for in either language. My already hardening dick went flat again with that reminder.

My phone rings just then.

I pull it out expecting her name on the screen but it seems God hates me.

It was Mama.

I close my eyes for exactly one second. Then I pick up out of duty rather than out of affection or want.

“Dmitry dear.” Her voice comes through warm and practiced, the fake warmth she uses when there are others nearby that she was performing for and she needs me to be cooperative.

“How are you?”

“Fine.”

“You don’t sound fine. Ty ne spish?” \[You’re not sleeping?\]

“I sleep perfectly.”

“You don’t.” She moves past it the way she moves past everything that doesn’t serve her point. “I won’t take much of your time. I’m calling because Candace arrives Thursday.”

Ah fucking fantastic, one problem rids itself and another tries to pry itself back in. But Candace isn’t my problem, my mother is.

“She’ll stay at the family apartment,” my mother continues, smooth and unhurried like she’s reading from a script.

“I thought you should hear it from me directly rather than find out another way. She’s a good woman Dmitry, she understands what this family needs, she always has. Ona ponimayet nas.” \[She understands us.\]

A short pause as if she was giving me time to take it in, not that I needed it.

“She’s been patient. More patient than most women would be in her position and I think compared to the little shit —”

“Mama.” One word but it was backed with a no nonsense message.

She stops.

“I heard you. Thursday.” I acknowledged, eager to get off the phone and get a hold of my kitten.

There was a brief pause but she didn’t hang up.

She speaks again but this time the warmth has dropped and something harder has taken its place underneath.

“Dmitry Orlov, this is not something you get to keep ignoring because it’s inconvenient for you. The clause exists whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. Candace is still very much important to our family and this family’s position depends on—”

“I said I heard you.”

This time the pause was enough that I genuinely wonder if she’s ended the call. Then quieter, softer, the version of her I find most difficult.

“Ya tol’ko khochu zashchitit’ semyu.” \[I only want to protect the family.\]

“I know you do,” I said, combing my fingers through my hair and hoping she’ll hang up.

After an uncomfortable silence, she ended the call.

I stand there with the name echoing in my head.

Thursday was in two days. That means I have just two days to figure out how to say something I’ve been not saying since I got back to New York and every day I don’t say it the version Gia eventually hear gets worse.

She deserves to hear it from me and she deserves to do so before Thursday.

Before Candace walks into this city wearing her best smile and her best intentions and her very legal marriage certificate.

My phone buzzes on the counter.

It was a Tamer notification which means Gianna has logged back into the site.

The tightness in my chest drops about half a degree.

I sit down and open the app.

Me: Hey. You good?

Her reply comes in quickly.

Kitten: Better now. I just need a break from everything around me. There’s just too much drama.

I almost beg her to tell
me more, all I know right now is her thinking about moving out. But I need to know that this Rhonda situation didn’t ruin the little effort I put in.

And that Candace’s arrival won’t shatter it completely.

I shut my eyes, biting my tongue from cussing God out. This isn’t his fault, it’s mine.

My fucking fault.

Me: If you need to vent, I’m always here for you baby.