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off the tack room so we could clean up before heading back to the house, I couldn’t resist the laughter that caught in my throat.

"Princesa, if you want me to spank your ass some more all you have to do is ask."

She got out of the car with a huff, slamming the door and making her way into the house as quickly as her sore ass would allow. The fabric of her jeans must have hurt her skin with every move despite the underwear she wore beneath them, but she did her best to not let me see the physical pain that was a consequence of her defiance.

I was sure the swelling in my greedy little pussy didn't help matters since I'd left her neglected and desperate for my cock. Once her anger abated, she'd have a more difficult time keeping me from seeing the symptoms of that. I'd gladly give her what she needed, but only after she admitted she wanted me.

After she gave me the words she so often kept from me.

I followed behind her, striding into the front doors of the house. Aaron met me at the door, stepping into my path with a solemn expression written on his face. I turned my gaze to watch as Isa settled herself in the breakfast nook, perching carefully with her eyes on the chess set on the small table that was so rarely used. She winced with pain as her ass hit the wood, but refused to give up and go to bed.

She'd need aftercare when she stopped being so stubborn. "Joaquín y su esposa se fueron al bosque," Aaron said, gathering my attention as the words struck me in the chest. Joaquin and your wife went into the woods.

"Qué hicieron ellos?" I asked. What did they do?

"No lo sé, Señor Ibarra," he admitted. "I did not follow them."

"Thank you, Aaron," I said, dismissing one of the younger men who worked security around the house. I turned my attention back to Isa, watching as she studied the chess board thoughtfully. When her eyes came back to mine, she froze solid with her hand in mid-air. Her breath hitched and she swallowed, and I knew without a doubt.

Mi princesa was hiding something.

Rage boiled my blood, but I turned my back on her to walk toward my office. I kept my steps as light as I could as I turned on the gas fireplace in the corner and brought it roaring to life, grabbing the three irons out of the cupboard where I kept them and chucking the ends into the flames.

I watched the fire dance over the irons, staring at the very different marks for a moment before I turned and stormed past where Isa still sat dumbstruck and slid out the back doors. "Rafe!" she called out, a commotion coming from inside as I hurried across the yard.

Joaquin stood in the clearing where the pyre would burn if I had any patience for delivering his mark another day, but given his latest betrayal involved my wife, I wasn't certain he would live to receive it. He stood still, waiting for my wrath to fall upon him as I approached. When he was within reach, my fist connected with his jaw so hard that he stumbled and nearly fell to the ground.

"Rafe!" Isa called again as she hurried out the back doors of the house and tried to follow me. Her aching body slowed her down, giving me a few precious moments with Joaquin before I would have to remind her what happened when she defended other men.

I would put him in the ground and never regret a moment of it if she dared to interfere.

"Did you touch my wife?" I asked, jabbing him in the nose. Blood sprayed my knuckles, but still he didn't fight back.

"Yes," he said. "I touched her." The raging fury inside me cooled to an ice I had never felt before, a cold and sharp thing that no longer cared if he suffered.

I just wanted him dead.

"Rafe! It's not what you think," Isa said, stumbling into the clearing. She stepped up to me, taking my hand in her grip despite Joaquin's blood on it. She gasped for breath, but when I looked at her I felt nothing but the shards of a betrayal that went far deeper than I could have ever imagined. "He taught me to fight," she wheezed. "That's all."

"So you did not fuck the man I left to keep you safe?" I asked, tilting my head to the side as she stared up at me in fear. Whether that fear was for herself or Joaquin, I couldn't know. I didn't think I wanted to know, because the unfortunate reality for mi reina was that she should very much be afraid for what the consequences of her betrayal would be.

"No!" she gasped. "How could you think that? It's only ever been you," she said, soothing some of the sharp edges, but my anger still pulsed within me.

She'd defied me with another man.

"Do you want to?" I asked, lashing out with my other hand and catching her around the throat. "Would you like me to bend you over so he can fuck your pretty little ass just like I do?"

"Rafael, stop it!" she yelled as I did just that, bending her over in front of me. Joaquin didn't move, didn't so much as twitch or glance down at the obscene position that put her jean clad ass in the air. "I don't want anyone but you. You're my husband," she whimpered.

Hearing those words from her, I knew without a doubt they were a manipulation. A reminder that I should be gentle with her, that I should be a good husband to my wife. But she hadn't married a good man. She'd married a man who put a gun to her head to claim her. She'd married a man who would kill anyone who thought to take away what was mine.

"You did something

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