Bratva Vows Complete Box Set: A Dark Mafia Romance

by SR Jones

  Her cheeks flush, and she looks away.

  “Don’t hide from me; give me your eyes.”

  She looks back to me, reluctantly.

  “What gives? You freaked out when I said I wanted you to come, I saw it.”

  She sighs. “I can’t come from sex. In fact, I haven’t come with a man before until earlier with you.” Shaking her head, she looks away again.

  “Hey.” I pull her face around to face me gently. I hitch my hips a little and her mouth parts. “Is this good anyway?”

  “Oh, yes,” she says, and she means it; I can tell.

  “So, no problem then.”

  “No pressure then? You don’t mind if I don’t … you know?”

  I’m going to make her come if it’s the last thing I do. But I’m not about to tell her and add to her anxiety over it.

  Instead, I kiss her. “It’s all good, baby. Just enjoy it however you want.”

  “Are you enjoying it?”

  Is she insane? I move again, and she gasps a little, and I change my angle and see the moment I hit the spot I’m looking for. She gives a little moan, soft and real, not the vocals of before.

  “I’m enjoying the heck out of this,” I assure her.

  Because I am, despite her trying to pass a fake orgasm off on me; she’s still the sexiest woman I’ve ever had in my bed. I think it’s her uncertainty, coupled with the amazing beauty that makes her so damned hot. A lot of gorgeous people, male or female, think all they need is their beauty. Half the time, they don’t try. She’s stunning enough to be a famous movie star, and yet she’s unsure of herself.

  As we begin to move together again, I remember she seems to like having her ear, neck, and collarbone area sucked and licked, so I go to work. Soon she’s doing her breathy sighing thing, the fake cries forgotten. I slide my hand between us and find her clit. Not sure how hard she likes the pressure, I start off gentle, and she responds, so I increase the pressure until I get the leg tremble I’m looking for.

  Her head rests to the side, her eyes closed, a small frown on her forehead, and her sighs are becoming gasps as her legs shake. She’s going to come, and I see the moment the realization hits her as her eyes open and her mouth widens on an 0 of surprise.

  Nails digging into my shoulders, she presses hard against me as her pussy sucks my dick in hard, rhythmic contractions.

  “Oh, God. Oh, my God.”

  She’s clenching around me, and it’s so fucking beautiful I lose it too, coming hard inside her, seeing fucking stars.

  When I start to come down, I look at her and see a shimmer of tears pooling in her eyes.

  What the fuck?

  “Hey, are you okay?” I brush away the tear spilling over.

  She nods, gives a small laugh, and sniffs. “Just a bit overwhelmed. I’ve never come with a man before, and you’ve made me come twice, and the second time... Wow. It was so … deep. I felt it right into my tummy.”

  She presses her hand on her belly as if to show me, and something cracks right open in my chest. Vulnerable and sweet, she’s nothing I ever thought I wanted but everything I have to have. Again. And again.

  Shit, I am in so much trouble here.

  Chapter 14

  Violet

  I can’t believe I tried to fake an orgasm, and he called me out on it, and I can’t believe he made me come so hard … twice. And from actual sex too, which I didn’t think possible. I’ve tried it myself, used a vibrator inside and my fingers on my clit, but nothing. I would try so damned hard, desperate to prove to myself at least I wasn’t broken as my stupid ex had insinuated. I’d end up with a numb clit and nothing happening.

  Andrius though, he somehow took the pressure off. It’s as if he read my mind, which is scary, gave me exactly what I needed in that situation.

  I turn to him. “I wasn’t expecting this. To be honest, I thought I’d be dragged back here by my hair and given a spanking.”

  As soon as the word spanking leaves my mouth, I realize what I’ve said. It was meant to be a light-hearted joke, but it brings back his words to me in the restaurant ladies’ room and as he dragged me out of the club.

  He faces me and brushes a lazy kiss across my lips, his grey eyes for once not cold but warm and content. Like this, they’re almost muddy instead of glacial, but beautiful still.

  “Oh, you’ll be getting a spanking,” he says.

  “I will?”

  “You earned it, don’t you think?”

  “Are you … serious right now?”

  His eyes narrow. “Deadly. I didn’t do it last night, or now, because it’s not what you needed then at that moment; you’d have bolted. But you do need it. Don’t you, Violet?”

  His voice lowers.

  “No, of course not. I don’t want to be spanked.” I’m lying because I so do, but part of me is terrified of it. Partly because I don’t know what it will unleash in me; partly because I don’t know what it will unleash in him. He’s big, and I’m small, and he might really hurt me. I’m also ashamed and puzzled as to why I would want such a thing.

  “You’re such a liar,” he says with a lazy smile. A sated beast for the moment.

  “Why would anyone want to be spanked. You’re being ridiculous.”

  He pulls me into him and brushes the hair back from my neck, giving it a kiss. “A whole host of reasons. They like the sharp sting of pain. Or maybe, they don’t like the pain but like the psychological side of it, giving in, giving up power to someone else. Or maybe … maybe it’s that they need boundaries, and need to know someone cares enough to enforce those boundaries fairly and without anger. If I’d put you over my knee last night, you’d have been terrified, and I’d have been angry. Instead, you’ll get your punishment this evening.”

  “What?” I squeak, trying to move, but his arms restrain me.

  “Don’t worry, my zaika, I’ll take it easy on you the first time. Ten light strokes with my palm is all you’ll get for last night’s behavior. Come to the library this evening, after we eat, and wear a skirt.”

  I flush and try to move once more. “I won’t come to the library, no.”

  “Fine, it will be twenty then, medium strokes.”

  “You can’t do this; you’re not my … boss or something. I don’t want you to do it, so no. I’ll leave,” I say.

  He turns to me and raises my chin. There’s light dawning outside, and it makes his eyes seem ghostly.

  “Why do you deny you’re intrigued, and you like the idea?”

  “It’s … wrong. It’s … weird.”

  He snorts. “No, it’s not. Not if you like receiving it, and I like giving it.”

  “Why would you like hurting me?”

  “Oh, zaika, I won’t hurt you. Not too much anyway. I know all about pain, how hard to hit someone to hurt them. There is pain, and there’s pain. For instance, some pain is pleasurable.”

  He reaches down and with two fingers squeezes my left nipple hard enough to make me gasp, and then lets go. It throbs. Not in an unpleasant way, but quite a nice one. There’s a corresponding throb in my core.

  Crap.

  “Why should you be the one who gets to dole out the pain?” I ask, disturbed by my reaction.

  “Baby, you want to tie me up and whip me, feel free.” He kisses the top of my head and moves away from me, getting out of the bed. “I’m going to make us breakfast.”

  When he leaves the room, I throw my arm over my face and hide from the world for a while. What have I done? I’ve slept with the man who is my captor in one sense. Maybe he didn’t take me, and he’s said I’m free to go, but in doing this, I’ve complicated things tenfold.

  I wanted him though. I had to have him. The itch he placed under my fevered skin proved too strong to ignore.

  Sighing, I force myself to get up, and a small throb of discomfort between my legs reminds me of what we did. It’s closely followed by a new, needy ache. We’ve just done having sex, and I already want more? This isn’t me. I’m not a
particularly sexual person. Deciding another cold shower is needed, I head to the bathroom to take a wash before breakfast.

  When I enter the huge kitchen, I pause when I see Justina is also awake and sat at the breakfast counter sipping a coffee. It’s still early, but the day doesn’t look as if it’s going to be as bright or warm as recent weather. We’ve had something of a heatwave for the time of year, but today is the familiar grey of most British days.

  Andrius is standing by the stove, spatula in hand, back to me. Wearing a t-shirt fit tight across his big, broad back, with faded jeans. He’s delicious. More so than the food in the big cast iron pan in front of him.

  “Hey.” I go and sit by Justina, offering her a shy smile.

  “Hey, yourself.” She winks at me, and I try not to flush.

  “Do you want a full English?” Andrius asks me.

  His words, so British but said in his strong accent, make me smile.

  “Yes, please,” I reply, my stomach rumbling. Must be the booze that’s made me so ravenous. Or maybe the sex. My face heats another notch.

  Justina knocks her knee into mine beneath the breakfast bar, and I focus on steadfastly ignoring her.

  Andrius plates up the food and passes a steaming pile of carbs and fat to me. I tuck in and give a groan of appreciation at the buttery mushrooms. They are gorgeous. The whole thing is. Crisp bacon, fried tomatoes, mushrooms, hash browns, and two perfect poached eggs. Toast as well.

  “You missed the baked beans,” I joke.

  “Yeah, can’t stand them,” Andrius replies with a wink.

  This is surreal. We’re sat here as if we’re a normal family, happily eating our breakfast. Andrius winked at me, winked. Yet he’s an underworld thug, and in a few hours, I’m going to his library to take my punishment. I clench my teeth at the thought, but my pussy clenches too, involuntarily.

  Ugh. I need to go read some third wave feminism and get my head on straight.

  “What plans do you guys have for today?” Justina asks.

  Andrius looks up from the plate of food he’s practically inhaling. He chews, swallows, then takes a drink of his orange juice. He picks up one of the heavy linen napkins we all have by our plates and wipes his mouth. “I’ve got work to do. So have you.”

  “Oh?” She looks at him.

  “Yeah, I want you to go back to the city house, air it, make sure everything looks normal. Get some food ordered in to be delivered next Thursday as we’ll need to head back then for a meeting Allyov has set up all day Friday.”

  “Okay.” She nods and wipes at her own mouth. “I may as well go to my yoga class if I’m in the city, come back here afterward, so be home about nine thirty.”

  Andrius smiles, and my stomach drops. This turn of events means I’m going to be alone when he gives me my punishment. For some reason, having Justina in the house made me feel safer. An illusion maybe, but a comforting one.

  “What are you going to do, Violet?” she asks.

  “Read,” I tell her. Not much else to do; the day is dim, the weather sour, like my mood is beginning to be, and it’s not as if I can go anywhere.

  Justina brightens the hours ahead when she says, “I don’t have to go to the house until later, right, Andrius? Can I take Violet to the discount shopping mall for a few hours?”

  He considers her, taking a sip of coffee. “Take one of the guns, keep your wits about you, and only go there, and I’ll say yes.”

  She can use a gun? My stomach tightens at the thought of why she should need to, and why she and I on an innocent shopping trip would need one.

  “Of course, I’ll go get ready. You get yourself properly dressed, Violet, and we can go.”

  She slides past Andrius, then puts her hands on his shoulders. “Can we have a credit card?”

  His lips twitch, and he pulls his wallet out of his pocket, hitching his left side up a little as he does so. Such a simple movement, but just him doing so turns me on. God, I’m done for.

  He opens the dark brown leather, which makes an expensive creak, and pulls out a platinum card. “Here. Spend whatever you want, but keep an eye out at all times. Okay?”

  She nods again and rushes out of the room to get ready. I stand and go to follow her, a bit uncertain about this shopping trip now.

  “Hey, come here.” Andrius beckons me over.

  I approach him warily, not sure what he wants. He pulls me into him, so I end up on his knee, and his arms come around me as he kisses me. His lips are warm and taste of coffee, and he smells of delicious aftershave. I moan into the kiss and he deepens it, giving me his tongue. I hated French kissing with my last boyfriend because he was too wet, and it made me gag. With Andrius it’s perfect and always gets me ready for something more. It’s as if my body is reacting to this meeting of our mouths by wanting a meeting of other, more secret areas.

  Before I get myself too turned on, he finishes the kiss, places me back on the floor, and scoots me forward with a gentle push and then a pat on my bottom. “Go enjoy yourself, and don’t worry about the gun; it’s normal for us to be careful. She often takes it. I only wanted to make sure she remembered now she’s got something precious of mine with her.”

  While I’m not mad crazy about being referred to as a thing, I love him seeing me as precious, and in a sick way, as his. Twisted, warped, and dark, it burns bright in my chest.

  I go and get changed and put on dark skinny jeans, a long-sleeved t-shirt with a rose on the front, which I bought because I loved the hot pink of the rose. On my feet I’m wearing my trusty ankle boots. Sensible black leather, with a short square heel, they are versatile and go with all sorts of stuff. I have to think of these things when I buy clothes because I don’t have a lot of money.

  My hair is a mess, so I pull it up into a high ponytail and then apply a slick of lip-gloss and a coat of mascara before heading down the stairs. I go into the kitchen to see Andrius loading up the dishwasher. I offer to help but he waves me to a chair. “You might be a while,” he says.

  Then he picks something off the shelf and hands it to me. It’s a phone. Not my phone but a phone, which makes me feel a lot better. It’s old-fashioned looking.

  “It’s a burner. No one can track it to you. Please, don’t use it to call anyone from your old life. It may not be safe. If you want to call someone, you can. I’ll give you a different phone for that. This has my number and Justina’s number programmed into it. It also has the number of my friend, Reece. He’s a good guy, and if you’re ever in trouble and Justina or me don’t answer, call him. Okay?”

  I swallow hard, the breakfast a congealed lump in my stomach now as fear takes hold. “You think I’m in danger, don’t you?”

  He sighs and runs a hand through his thick, dark hair. “I don’t know. How can I? I don’t know who you are. You won’t tell me. Not the full truth, and Allyov is sticking to his story that he simply grabbed you for me. So, the answer is, my gorgeous little one, I don’t know if you’re in danger or not, but you might be. For this reason, please always keep the phone with you, and call me immediately if you sense anything is wrong.”

  For a moment, I want to confess everything to him. We had sex last night, and it was mind-blowing; surely he won’t hurt me if I tell him the truth. Then my rational side kicks in. He’s a fucking hitman, for the mob. He is capable of a lot of things. I doubt he feels love in the same way as a normal person. I’m a naïve little girl in this world, and I’m already halfway falling for him simply because he gave me two amazing orgasms and seems to care if I live or die. Which is more than most people in my life. He’s not the same as me. He’s hard, scary, and not likely to fall for someone from one night of great sex. If it was great for him. He did most of the giving, most of the work. Crap, maybe he found it mediocre at best. Not liking the thought, I push it away and put the phone in my pocket.

  Justina clomps into the room, wearing skin-tight black jeans, a loose t-shirt with a picture of a swan on a lake in pinks and purples, and the swan
is wearing a tiara. The shirt is seriously girly, but with the jeans, the heavy boots, and her big silver rings and bangle, it looks bad-ass. I wish I had a sense of my own style.

  “Come on, Violet,” she says with a grin.

  I get up to follow her, and she frowns. “Where’s your bag?”

  “I don’t have one,” I tell her. “I can go get my drawstring bag.”

  She wrinkles her perfect mouth in distaste. “Please don’t. First stop, the handbag shop.”

  I shake my head at her. She is holding a big black bag with serious metal hardware on it. “I like yours,” I tell her.

  “Gucci, and they don’t have this at the outlet center, but they do have Armani, and Mulberry, and a ton of others. We’re going to have so much fun.”

  “Do I need to have my bank balance on screen at all times,” Andrius jokes.

  “Maybe,” Justina says, then waves her fingers at him as she strides out the door.

  I follow her and get into the passenger side of a sporty red car, as she climbs into the driver’s. This is her car, she told me as much the other day. She has one here and one in the city. Nice life.

  As we pull away, I glance back at the house, part of me wishing I was still there, wrapped in the fairy-tale world I’ve created with Andrius.

  We reach one of those sprawling retail parks that seem to be springing up all over the U.K., and Justina parks near a store with a shiny white front. It houses glittering bags and shoes in its brightly lit window.

  We get out of the car, and she takes a deep breath in. “God, I love shopping. It soothes my soul.”

  “I’ve never been shopping in the way you do,” I tell her.

  She raises an eyebrow at me. “What, for fun?”

  “Yes. It’s always something I do when I need to get something, and then I worry because I’ve always got so little money.”

  I don’t feel embarrassed about saying I don’t have a lot of money. It’s not a personal failing, and indeed the way Andrius makes his, one could argue I’m the better person than him … or Justina.

  “Let’s indoctrinate you in the way of the materialistic world.” She smirks at me.