Bratva Addiction

by Coco Miller

  No, they wouldn’t dare to look at what is mine.

  A bold move, I’ll give her that, but if there is one thing she will not do in front of my men it’s command me.

  “Get up and go change.”

  Damn it, it’s hot out. Wearing a suit was not the best move on blistering a day like today.

  “I’m not doing anything. You are more than welcome to join me, but I’m not leaving this spot,” she sighs happily, placing big black sunglasses on her nose to cover those beautiful eyes.

  “I’ve been in that damn room like a prisoner. You say I’m not, but you lock the door behind you and I stare at the same four walls all day and night. So…you’ll let me have this or so help me, I’ll make your life a living hell.”

  “I’m going to go. Da, I’ll go.” Vlad turns left and then right, unsure of which way to go since both lead nowhere. He finally just scurries to the left, hiding under the tiki bar canopy where my man Rodulfo is bartending.

  I bend down and slide her glasses down her nose. Her eyes meet mine, hard as stone. I can tell that she thinks that she is set in her ways but I can’t wait to change them.

  “You are feisty. I like that,” I say, dropping my hand to her leg that’s warm from the heat of the sun. I slide my palm over her knee and down her thigh until my fingers are near her sacred warmth. “But you will not disrespect me in front of my men. Do I make myself clear, Alegra?”

  “As clear as murky water, Kazimir.”

  “Oh, you are a smart one, aren’t you?”

  She pushes her sunglasses up her nose, letting them settle where they belong and acts as though my presence doesn’t bother her.

  “You’re the one who decided that you wanted to kidnap a cute little vet student who was minding her own business. So now you need to deal with the consequences of that. I’m just going to live my best life and if that means being stuck here at your mercy then so be it.”

  She wraps her fingers around the blue Pepsi can, the condensation wetting her fingers, as she brings the rim to her mouth and sucks down the sugary goodness.

  Mmm, I want to kiss her again and taste just how sweet that soda is on her lips. My cock grows hard when I think about the time we spent rolling around in her bed, making her fall apart beneath me, just how sweet she tasted then.

  I skim my hand up her body, outlining the curve of her side breast, my cock jerking between my legs from the soft feel, and my lips fall to just an inch above in front of hers.

  “Oh, my Moya Dusha, you have no idea what it is like to be at my mercy but you will.”

  Her soft bursts of air puff across my lips and that red tongue flicks out, wetting her lips.

  She’s driving me crazy. I can’t focus on work. I can’t focus on anything with her around, tempting me like this.

  Her nipples tighten in her swimsuit and the thin material barely covers her sweet morsels up. All I can focus on is the valley between her cleavage, the round swells of her tits. A bead sweat drips down the middle and it takes all I have not to bend down and lick it off.

  She also leans forward, taking me by surprise. I can’t see her eyes behind those sunglasses and it pisses me off. I want to see what she is looking at.

  “You’re funny if you think I’m the one at mercy here.” Alegra runs her fingers down my lips, making my bottom lip plop against my top. She settles back in the chair, a smug smile on her face when she notices I’m hard as a fucking rock.

  Pushing aside my doubt, because I can’t help but wonder if she right, I take her hand and stroke it along my length.

  “Since you notice it, it’s all for you, Moya Dusha.”

  “I’m sure you have moya whatever’s all over this mansion.” She yanks her hand back as if I burned her. “You want to know what I believe, Kazimir? I think I’m only here so the debt is cleared. You don’t actually want me. You’re just trying to prove some sort of point.”

  The sun raises higher in the sky, casting my shadow beside her instead of on her. Her skin glistens in the sun, like a glowing bronze metal that I feel like a won.

  I’m a champion when I’m next to her.

  “It hurts that you think that. There have been no women in my life for a long time. I’ve fucked, yes, but I’ve never wanted or—” I almost let it slip that I love her, but I bite my tongue, and steal the soda from the table next to her to coat my throat.

  “What do I need to do to prove to you that I want you? That I honestly took advantage of a bad situation because I want you. I know I’m not a good man, but I can promise to be a good man to you.”

  She takes off her sunglasses and folds them gently, setting them to the side. She lifts her knees to her chest, laying her pointed chin on them as she studies me.

  “I don’t know. I really don’t like that I’m here for the reason you say. Maybe if you asked me out like a normal person, I wouldn’t be so hesitant.”

  I take a chance and intertwine our fingers together, loving how right she feels.

  “Even if you said yes, once you found out about your dad, you would have left me. And since we are speaking hypotheticals, your father would most likely be dead because he cannot pay us back and my father doesn’t take any other sort of payment for financial debts. Taking you was a once in a lifetime exception.”

  I expect her to slap me, to curse me, to yell, to fight, to argue, something that lets me see that spark I love so much, but all she does is nod and flop back against the chair. The woman keeps me on my toes, I’ll give her that.

  “You expect me to just fall for you so easily without thinking about all that has happened? It’s a big deal that I was payment. It’s a big deal that I’m practically here to be your sex doll—”

  I cover her mouth with my hand, stopping her from insulting me and herself any further.

  “I’ll say this, if I wanted a whore, If I wanted a sex doll, it’s as easy as snapping my fingers. You are not that to me. I got you here, anyway I could. I’ve been entranced by you for far too long. You are more than a momentary past time.”

  “Take me out then.”

  I shrug off my coat, folding it in half and lay it on the back of the chair. It’s getting hot. If she really wants me to join her, I will.

  “Vlad!” I yell across the pool. “Keep everyone out.”

  Vlad nods and he and the bartender disappear inside, no doubt telling everyone to stay away. I loosen my tie and I never take my eyes off her. I smile, unbuttoning my shirt next and her lips part as she watches me. I take my time. With every pop of the button, she rubs her thighs together and her bikini bottom is so small, I fantasize that her wetness is flowing out of her, dripping down her thighs as she looks at me.

  It feels fucking good to know a woman of her beauty and intelligence wants a man like me. She might be fighting with herself, but her body doesn’t lie. It knows we are made for one another. It’s craving me. I can smell her.

  Next, I unbuckle my belt and unzip my pants, letting them fall to the concrete beneath my feet. I step out of them and then take my shoes off. I probably should have done that first, but I was too caught up in showing off that I didn’t think about it until it was too late.

  I lay down in the lounge chair next to her. My cock presses against the tight material of my briefs, the tip peeking out on my thigh. I don’t hide it. I have no shame in my size, because I know I have a big dick.

  “Mmm, it is a beautiful day, Moya Dusha. You are right to come in the sun.”

  “What? Come?”

  “The sun,” I remind her and catch her staring at my cock. “The light I was blocking earlier.”

  “Right, sun.” She settles back. Adorable.

  “And we will go out. I will be taking you to my favorite restaurant tonight. I’ll have a dress delivered. Be ready at seven.”

  “And what do you plan to accomplish with us going out, Kazimir?” she asks.

  I hold her hand again and she doesn’t pull it away.

  “I’m showing you that whatever you ask for,
I will make happen. I’m showing you that our untraditional beginning doesn’t have to dictate where we end up. I also plan to make you see that we belong together, and after tonight you’ll know.”

  Tonight, our bodies will join, our hearts will finally merge and she will understand what it means when I call her, Moya Dusha.

  My soul.

  9

  Alegra

  I push two fingers inside me while I shower the sun and sweat off my body, moaning at the memory of Kazimir sitting next to me in briefs, hard and massive.

  Tilting my head back, the waterfall of the shower hits my head, soaking my hair. I close my eyes and imagine his body. He’s tall, built, but not bulky. He has fine lines and definition throughout, like a runner or a swimmer. His dirty blonde hair and pale skin make his smokey blue eyes appear brighter, making a shiver run down my spine.

  He’s dangerous.

  And he doesn’t try to hide it.

  It exudes from his every pore and instead of being afraid of it, it turns my body into a volcano, ready to erupt from the power that cloaks me whenever he is around.

  I slide my fingers out, wet and aching, my virginal hole pulsating with the need to be filled with more. My fingers aren’t enough. I need to be stretched. I’ve never had that feeling before, the need, the deep want to have sex, but with Kazimir I need it more than my next breath.

  I try sliding a third finger inside me and that does the trick, I groan and lay my head against the white tile of the shower stall. I press my hips down, sinking my fingers further inside me until I hit what I think is my barrier.

  A pathetic whimper leaves me, echoing in the stall. I hump my hand, seeking that gratifying release that I’ve been aching for since he laid down next to me at the pool.

  “Kazimir,” I whisper and press my thumb against my clit, crying out from the ecstasy zinging through my burning nerves. I’m learning so much more about how to please myself these past few days than I have my whole life.

  My free hand travels down my body, wet and slick from the water, and I cup my breast. I pretend it’s Kazimir’s hand, his skillful long fingers tweaking my nipple and his wide palm kneading my tit. He’d rock his wide dick between my legs at first, not inside me, but between my thighs. Then Kazimir’s fingers would replace mine, preparing me for something else, something bigger and better.

  Oh, god, the fantasy is so good.

  His lips are attacking mine, tongue shoving into my mouth, teeth scratching against my lips, his fingers pumping in and out of me fast and hard. The wet sound of my juices and the water splash and my skin turns boiling hot, but not from the shower, from his experienced touch.

  Every stroke of his fingertips burns me alive.

  I imagine his cock to be intimidating, just like the rest of him, proud and intense, standing straight in the air with a fat wide tip with a slit leaking clear fluid. I’d cup his balls (as if I’m brave enough to do that) and Kazimir would shout, flexing his hips up and then he’d accidentally slides inside my virgin hole, penetrating me.

  Taking my virginity.

  Owning it.

  And instead of stopping or apologizing like most men would, he’d keep going, pounding into me. It would hurt, the stretch, the burn, the ache, but it will also feel so good.

  “Oh, Kazimir,” I moan when the fantasy brings my orgasm closer.

  The doubt in the back of my mind screams at me to stop doing this, to stop imagining being with this man like this because once I fly over the edge, there is no going back. There is no stopping me from wanting the real thing.

  It’s a real bad idea to dream of him in his own house.

  Sadly, I’ve come to the conclusion that while this life is definitely not one I want, I want Kazimir Volkov. That is for certain.

  I pinch my clit and roll it between my fingers and with the thought of me coming on his all over his dick, I splinter apart, clenching around my fingers, soaking my palm with my juices. My mouth parts with relief and hot water fills it up. I spit it out and groan when I remove my fingers from my sheath.

  “I’m so screwed,” I pant, trying to catch my breath and to come down from this extraordinary high.

  Pushing off the stall, I wash my body and hair with shaky hands and wonder if I’m crazy for thinking about going through with this.

  The one question I keep asking myself is why? Why do I want a bad man that used a bad situation to benefit himself?

  Because there is something about him, something magnetic that my soul can’t deny.

  I believe there is some truth to his words when he speaks to me. A hard truth. One that scares me, one that makes me question the kind of person I am. He calls out this darkness I had no idea I had inside me. That’s why I’ve been fighting this so hard, because I’ve always been good and he makes me want to indulge in every deep, dark desire that I’ve ever had.

  That can’t be healthy.

  Turning off the water, I climb out and take a soft fluffy towel in my hand that smells of lavender. Damn, I can get used to living like this. Everything is luxurious and the best of the best. Like I’m living in a five-star hotel.

  I wrap one towel around me and the other in my hair and stare at myself in the mirror. I’m a bit darker than my usual shade of light bronze from the sun. My tan lines are faint, the straps reaching around my neck and the barely there triangles over my breasts look silly since they were too small for me.

  But Kazimir seems to like it. That’s all that matters.

  Taking in the exquisite detailing of the crown molding in the bathroom, the clawfoot tub with golden legs that have the appearance of leaves, the shower which felt like a rainforest, are one of many things that separate Kazimir and I. He is wealthy and is used to all this, but me? Most of my clothes are from the thrift store.

  We are so different, yet something brought us together.

  Yeah, his selfishness, Alegra.

  “I’m not wrong there,” I mumble to myself and turn off the bathroom light as I walk into the bedroom. There’s a large black box on the bed with a bright purple ribbon. My face heats when I think that someone entered the room and overheard me… finger fucking myself.

  I peak around the corner and see the door is shut, so whoever was here is long gone now. Rubbing my hand along the box, it’s matte and smooth. It even feels expensive. There’s a white card underneath the ribbon with an imprinted design on the edges. I take it out and read the handwritten cursive.

  “I can’t wait to see this against your skin. I look forward to seeing you. Be ready at 7.”

  −−Kazimir.

  The smile that takes over my face hurts. I’m giddy. Nervously excited. This is going to be my first real date ever, and it’s with a Russian mafia man. Holy crap, what has my life come to?

  I pluck the ribbon from the beautifully tied bow and watch it fall, coming undone. Once that is out of the way, I lift the box and see perfectly folded lavender tissue paper. I peel it back, piece by piece, and am amazed by the gown in front of me.

  “Oh my…” I pick it up by the strapless neckline. It’s the prettiest dress I have ever seen.

  It has a sweetheart neckline with crystals along the seam where it curves down between the breasts. It’s a pale yellow and the bottom half is tulle with a large slit surpassing the midthigh. It’s risqué, but at the same time, elegant and timeless. I glance back in the box and see a silver pair of stilettos.

  “Holy fricking crap!” I exclaim, reaching for the expensive pair of Jimmy Choos inside. How am I supposed to wear something like this? What if I scuff them?

  The clock reads five-thirty. I need to get ready now. I still need to do my hair and makeup. He thought of that too. In a matching bag next to the box are a ton of hair products (that I actually use) and all kinds of foundations, blushes, mascaras, eyeshadows that will work perfectly with my skin tone and the color of the dress.

  A woman must have bought all this stuff.

  I wonder who.

  With a shrug, I start
to get ready. I blow dry my hair and straighten it with the brand new flat iron in my gift pack. By the time I’m done, I’m sweating and fan myself. I can’t put on makeup with a wet face.

  I wait a few minutes until my body regulates to the temperature of the room and turn on the fan, groaning from the makeshift breeze. Now I get to work on my face. I start with a light coat of my favorite tinted moisturizer, some pinkish blush, mascara, gloss, and a little Fenty highlighter on my cheek bones and under my brows to give myself a natural glowing appearance.

  I look beautiful.

  Now the clock reads seven and the night ahead of me awaits.

  10

  Kazimir

  I tap my knuckles on the door at seven o’clock on the dot. I’ll admit this, I am not a nervous man, but I have not taken a woman out in a very long time. Not one that I actually give a fuck about.

  For me, it’s always been about fucking. Just getting off. I didn’t care to get to know them before. All the men I work with are the same. Very few of us have significant others.

  All that mattered to me was the climax, but right now, waiting for Alegra to open the door, I know this is more than a one off climax. I have to make a good impression tonight.

  I feel like she’s giving me a small chance. Tonight could help me seal the deal, and if I fuck it up, she’ll resent me more than she already does.

  The doorknob turns, and that’s when I remember I kept her door unlocked, entrusting her not to leave, and when the door finally opens, I would have fallen over if it wasn’t for the wall holding me up. I have my hand pressed against it.

  Holy fuck.

  Never in my life have I seen a woman so beautiful. I knew that dress would look beautiful on her. Her breasts are pushed high, her waist small from how tight the corset is and her face glows. Her hair is smooth and styled back into her perfect pixie style and when she steps out, she smells of vanilla and sugar.

  So sweet, like dessert, and I want to eat her. I want to skip the main course and stay inside, lift that dress up those soft silky legs and push her panties to the side and slide my fat cock inside her.