Roxanne knew she was in for it as soon as Antonio Wayne entered the room. It was too late to run, but the thought did cross her mind.

He crossed the threshold and raised his head ever so slightly, nostrils flaring like a wolf in the wild detecting the scent of fear on the wind. With his wife firmly in his sights, he prowled toward her, circling her where she stood by the bed, taking his time, enjoying her barely concealed discomfort.

“I knew you were up to something when I left this morning. I’m thoroughly convinced you enjoy making me angry. Perhaps you enjoy my interrogation sessions a bit too much, hmm?” he queried as he hooked his finger in the diamond O-ring of her collar and slid his hand over the curve of her ass, giving the firm flesh an insolent squeeze before continuing. “I have to admit, the most memorable of our sessions was the one involving electricity. Remember? Oh, the look of terror in your eyes that night, so delicious,” he purred, closing his eyes for a long moment, lost in his reverie. But just as quickly, he turned his focus back to his wife, adding a compliment of sorts. “As much as I enjoy torturing my enemies, they never measure up to you. Do you know why?” he asked as he tugged again on the ring.

She slowly shook her head back and forth, afraid to open her mouth for fear that nothing she said would be right. She had knowingly and willingly gone against Antonio Wayne’s wishes. Now she would pay the price.

He never took his eyes off her. He stepped back and loosened his tie. She gulped, wondering what he was going to do next. She didn’t have to wait to find out. He lifted the length of silken fabric over his head, leaving it looped and that’s when her eyes darted around the room, looking for a way of escape.

He pounced like a feral animal consumed by primal rage. Before she could respond to the threat, his tie was tight around her wrists. Antonio Wayne looped it over a hook that he had installed on the headboard for intimate moments such as this.

“The reason the interrogations are always so much more gratifying with you is because there is always off-the-charts fucking when I finish. You should have thought about the consequences before you snuck down to the basement and set that girl free. What the fuck were you thinking?” he roared as he tossed his shirt to the floor and began unfastening his pants, starting with his belt. When he was finished, he stood by the bed, gloriously naked and still as muscled and virile as a much younger man could only hope to be. He gripped the buckle end of the belt in one hand, his stiff cock in the other.

Chest heaving, he stroked the leather with the pad of his thumb as he harshly palmed his erection. “Let’s see if you feel so rebellious after I get done fucking you into submission. It’s the only thing that seems to work with you—hurting you with this cock.”

Her eyes darted frantically around the room as he reached down into the pocket of his pants where they lay crumpled on the floor. She squeezed her eyes closed so she didn’t notice when he removed something from his pocket and concealed it in his hand.

He climbed onto the bed and straddled her, carefully settling his weight on top of her. There would be no escaping his watchful eye, not until he decided she could be trusted.

He leaned in as if to share an intimate secret with her. “I have a surprise for you. I bought it specifically with you in mind.”

Her body jerked, as much as his weight on top of her would allow, when he flicked his wrist and the glimmer of a knife blade caught her eye.

“I see I have your undivided attention now. Good. But don’t worry. I won’t cut you -- well, not too deeply anyway. This,” he held up the knife, causing the sharp edge to glimmer a tint of blue in the trickle of moonlight coming through the window, “is a Spyderco Sage 2. The blade is titanium, which means it will hold its edge. This little notch is where you place your thumb – a small but important detail. Now, they made it that way because it’s slippery when wet. Did you know that often during a vicious knife attack the attacker gets cut for that reason?” He leaned down, rasping in her ear, “Because the blood is so very slippery.”

He straightened and considered her solemnly. “I love the look on your face right now—a mixture of terror and regret. Hindsight is a bitch—karma’s way of making us pay for our bad decisions. When are you going to realize that I’m always two steps ahead of you? I always have been, always will be.”

The rise and fall of her chest drew his attention to the thin layer of fabric covering her torso. Humming softly to himself, he gripped the knife and sliced through her shirt, slowly peeling back the sides as he licked his lips in anticipation.

He truly loved fucking his wife, there was no deeper gratification in the world and, yeah, he was secretly glad she’d gotten herself into trouble again. Nothing was more pleasurable to him than disciplining his nosey wife. Her inquisitive nature was always a sure thing. If he just waited long enough, there would always be another opportunity to spank that ass.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” he murmured as he admired her still-spectacular breasts peeking out through her lacey bra. She took care of herself and it showed. His cock surged, lengthening as if in agreement. He slipped the knife under the front of her bra and roughly sliced through it, causing her tits to pop out. “Mm, much better,” he purred as he stroked around a nipple with the tip of the knife. Her body shook, betraying her struggle to stay still for fear of being cut.

He chuckled, “Maybe if you had tried that hard to be a good girl instead of interfering with cartel business – again – you wouldn’t be in such a precarious position now. Now, you’re going to do everything I tell you to, to win my trust back. Aren’t you.”

It was more of a command than a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes, Sir.”

“But we both know I’ll never trust you. You’re too damn nosey to trust. Now, you may explain yourself.”

“I just wanted to help, Sir. We only just got Tony back; I don’t want him to hate you.”

“How kind of you to worry about my welfare. I think it’s your welfare you should be concerned with, though.”

The snip, snip of the knife cutting through first one side of her panties and then the other reminded her of the peril of her present situation. His moves were controlled and disciplined. As always, he had a plan and he was precise in his execution of it.

He lived for moments like this with his fiery, redheaded wife. She gave him everything his sadistic nature craved. She was his only drug of choice and he was her only addiction. But she needed to learn a lesson.

Intent on adding just the right touch of degradation, he placed the knife to her throat, silently daring her to defy him.

“I want to watch you finger fuck yourself. Do it now. Don’t deny me.”

She could tell he was spoiling for a fight, that he wanted a challenge. It was a fine line she would walk tonight, between the submissive he dominated so freely and the temptress he craved. Now it was her turn to make him crazy. So, she taunted him, licking her finger and pressing it between her legs, spreading her legs so wide he could surely smell her wanton need for him.

“Is this what you want to see, Sir?” she asked oh-so-innocently as she pumped two fingers in and out, in and out. “My fingers deep inside my pussy, before you fill me up with that big Colombian cock?”

“Ah, fuck,” he growled, gritting his teeth so as not to cum all over her before they even got started. “Are you wet for me? Show me.” So she did, using her fingertips to pull her inner lips apart so he could see her glistening entrance and watch the soft flesh clenching in need for him.

“Would you look at that? Look at that wet, sweet, needy pussy,” he rasped, transfixed by the sight. He pressed the knife against her throat. She rolled her hips, tempting him with the scent of her arousal. His nostrils flared with need and the growl that poured from his throat emboldened her. She stroked her clit as he palmed his cock, priming his hard length as he watched her every move.

“Take what’s yours, Sir. Make me pay, punish me for every sin I’ve ever committed against you.”

He smacked her hand away from her clit impatiently. He controlled her pleasure and her pain. He decided when to allow her to cum, when to trigger her orgasm, and when to keep her hovering on the edge of ecstasy. This woman still intrigued him, still inflamed his baser instincts. He had accepted many years ago that he would never, ever get enough of her.

He tossed the knife to the side where it landed with a thud on the end table. He folded her legs back, pressing her thighs into the mattress, and drove his cock home in a single, merciless thrust that had her crying out in agonized pleasure. The sound only inflamed his need to sink into her depths, to grind his cock into her as deep as her flesh would allow.

She wondered if she had pushed him too far this time. “Sir, please don’t hurt me. I’ll be good, so good for you.”

“Too fucking late. You’ll take everything I give you. You asked for it; you pushed me over the edge, now you’ll take it.”

As he pounded into her again and again, she moaned her submission and sobbed incoherently, begging him to forgive her and to fuck her harder, always harder.

 “Mine. I own you.” He emphasized the words with every thrust of his aching cock. Each time she got close, he’d slow down, smacking her ass to make it clear that he owned her pleasure. She would never be the one in control.

He needed to make her pay for her interference and she needed to give him the satisfaction of accepting his discipline—until the next time. He braced his weight on an elbow, slid his other hand beneath her collar, and clasped her throat tightly.

“Come.” It was a command he snarled in her ear, not a request, and her body did what it always did—it submitted to Antonio Wayne’s will. With his hand tightening around her neck, her pussy clenched around his cock like a fist. The delicious pressure sent him hurtling over the edge in one of the hardest orgasms of his life. He pulled his hand away and smacked the headboard with the force of his climax. His hips surged forward, releasing all his anger, all his pent-up frustration deep within her, marking her as his once again.

Later, she got up to go to the bathroom. He propped his arm behind his head and enjoyed the sight of her spectacular ass as she walked away, his handprint still visible on her flawless skin. When she returned, he patted the space next to him and lifted his hand for her to come to him. She took his hand and slid under the covers, curling up against his side.

He had one more point to make. “You want to be involved, so I’m giving you what you want – but on my terms. You are going to help Tony find out what this woman is up to.”

She leaned up on an elbow with a frown. “I don’t think she’s up to anything. She’s just a woman who got into a bad situation and Tony got her out of it.”

“Every woman is up to something,” he said imperiously. “It is in a woman’s nature.”

She rolled her eyes. “That may be the most sexist thing you’ve ever said, honestly…”

He scowled, seeing nothing wrong with what he’d said. They had had this conversation many times before, so she knew his views on the matter. “Why? It’s true. You continue to prove my point every day. It may not be true of every woman, but it sure as hell applies to you. It’s what makes you so intriguing.”

“Yeah, well, keep your intrigue reserved for me. I don’t think you want to see the cage fighting beast come out to play.”

“Still jealous after all these years? I’m flattered.”

“Well, if keeping an eye on Tony’s girl will put your mind at ease, I’ll do it for you. Anything for you.”

“No, you’ll do it for the cartel. Don’t ever forget, cartel and family always come first. This bitch isn’t cartel or family.”