The King: Bratva Blood: (A dark mafia romance)

by SR Jones

  It means we could find ourselves in a war on both sides, against Popov and the Armenians he’s aligned with, rather than the hope Damen and I had of Allyov and the Armenians coming together to take out Popov.

  Cassie sighs and shuffles about under the bedding.

  If she’s here for comfort, I’ll give her it, but if she’s here for something more—all bets are off. I won’t be gentle, and I won’t be kind. I’ll work her body until she’s shattered and broken, but in the best way. I don’t love her, but I do want to imprint myself on her. I want to be the one she remembers years from now when she’s married with kids, and she thinks back to the man who no one has matched up to. Me.

  I don’t normally feel this way about my conquests. I like to make sure they have a good time in the sack, but I don’t worry whether they’ll remember me for all eternity. Once I’m done, I’m done. Cassie, though, I want this to be something more, even if it is short lived.

  If I was a good man, I’d tell her to go back to her bed right now, and not come in here again. She’s young, naïve, and if Vasily is correct, her heart is involved, and mine isn’t. Or, at least, not in the way she needs.

  I don’t think it’s capable of being.

  My heart took too many hits, and now it simply doesn’t work like most peoples. My father walking out and in quick succession losing my mother, grandmother, and worst of all, my sister, did something to me. It took me years to feel anything close to normality again. Just when I thought I had it all figured out, when I had someone I loved, in my friend Yulia, my father took that away too.

  Ever since that moment, I’ve been unnatural. I don’t feel in the same way. I know that after Yulia’s death, I failed Michael. He needed love and lots of it. I gave him a home, security, guidance, but I couldn’t give him the one thing he needed, unguarded affection and love. I’m always afraid that if I do love someone completely and unguardedly, then I’ll lose them. Or worse, they’ll betray me, and honestly? I don’t know if I could come back from that again. Or what I’d do to the person who did such a betrayal, or anyone in my path. I’m so scared of the anger and rage deep inside me that I’ve put up barriers so high I can’t see over the fucking top.

  So Cassie can’t have from me what she craves because I simply don’t have it in me. Or rather, I might, but I’m not willing to go digging and find out.

  She reaches for me, her small hand brushing over my waist. My naked waist. I’m not wearing anything tonight. I figured if she came here seeking that out, why put barriers in her way?

  Her hand moves down over my hip, and I hear her tiny intake of breath when she realizes I’m not wearing underwear.

  “You better be sure what you’re asking for is what you want,” I tell her.

  She stills, and for a moment, I think she’s going to walk away.

  Then she moves her hand back up, over my side and arm, feeling me, mapping me out. Her fingers trail over my chest, back to my arm, and in the dark she traces the outline of the bird I have there, as if she can see it, but I know she can’t. She must have committed the shape of it to memory. I like the fact that she’s looked at me enough to do such a thing.

  Her hand wanders over my chest and down my stomach. Then she sits up and pulls her nightdress over her head. I have the curtains closed because the security lights are on all night now, but even with the curtains pulled, they are bright enough to light the room up for me to see her shape.

  Only a week ago my room was lit by moonlight; now, those damn security lights blazing outside remind me that I’m under siege. They call me a king, but right now, this king is trapped in his castle, attacked on all sides. I need to make a move, but I’m not sure which move to make.

  Tomorrow, Andrius will pay a visit to Allyov. From there things will be put in motion, things we can’t come back from if they go horribly wrong.

  The woman next to me surprises the shit out of me when she climbs astride me. She lifts her arms above her head, giving me a glorious view of her heavy tits as she runs her hands through her hair, letting it fall down her back as she lowers her arms to her side.

  She’s sitting on top of me, and she’s stunning. Truly, Cassie has the best body out of any woman I’ve been with. She rarely shows it off, covering it in baggy trousers, running shoes, and boxy t-shirts, but underneath her casual clothes is a goddess, just waiting to be uncovered.

  I kind of like being the only one to know how hot she is. How big her breasts are, how tiny her waist, and slim but curvy her hips are.

  “You’re beautiful,” I tell her as my hands grasp her waist, and I hold her still, keeping her in place as I admire her.

  Her nipples are hard, perky, and small. I like them too. I want to bite them, but now I need to be gentle with her because she’s still hurt. I push the thought of what Denis did out of my head, or I’ll get too fucking angry to be soft with Cassie.

  Instead, I focus on her, the way she’s breathing fast, her chest rising and falling.

  I flip her over suddenly, holding her wrists above her head in one hand, keeping her trapped as I watch her eyes widen in shock at the suddenness of the move.

  She tries to get her hands free, but I shake my head.

  “Oh, no, you’re not in control now, Cassie. I let you be the one to decide if we’re going to start this, but I’m the one who decides how it goes now we’re doing it.”

  Her eyes glint in the dim light, and I want to laugh. I bite her ear and then lick her neck. “I’m going to devour you,” I tell her.

  And I do. I kiss her all over. I kiss every inch of her skin, including her bruised breast which I kiss so gently it’s more like a whisper of air I brush over her. I learn her taste, her scent, and the places she likes to be touched. There’s a spot on her side, between her hipbone and her waist that’s ticklish, and each time I swipe my tongue over it, she shivers and giggles. I like to hear her laugh, so I do it a few times.

  When I get to where I want to be, I settle between her legs and stare at what I’ve wanted for so long. Her pussy is golden, I can see as much even with the gloomy light in this room. She’s got a trimmed patch of hair, and intriguingly it’s a lighter shade of blonde than the hair on her head.

  I take hold of one soft curl and pull.

  “Ouch!” She flinches.

  “Don’t worry, baby,” I say. “I’ll kiss it better.”

  I bend my head and part her folds with one hand before licking right up her center. Her taste explodes on my tongue. She’s wet, hot, and fucking delicious.

  I start off gentle, licking her, flicking her clit every now and again, and once or twice, sucking it into my mouth, but then I really begin to work her. I want her to come so hard she sees fucking stars. When her body begins to tense and tremble, I work a finger inside her and follow it with a second. She gasps, and I smile.

  “You going to come all over my fingers like a good girl?” I ask her.

  “Yes,” she pants.

  “Yes, what?” I demand.

  Her eyes darken and then narrow. I see it, the moment of glorious rebellion. She’s not submissive in every aspect of her life. No, Cassie is more … naïve, unsure, in search of comfort and safety, but in bed? She’s submissive.

  “Yes, what?” I repeat.

  “Yes, sir,” she says with a sigh on the end of sir, as if it’s a relief somehow to her, saying it.

  I kiss either side of her pussy as a reward, kiss her on her soft inner thighs, and then I go back to licking her clit, while I finger fuck her. She grabs the bedsheets and cries out as she comes hard and sudden. Her muscles grip my fingers convulsively, and I can’t wait for her to be gripping my cock the same way.

  I pull out of her and take my wet fingers and lift them to her lips. I paint those puffy lips of hers with my fingers as if I’m applying lip gloss.

  “Lick it off, Cassie,” I order.

  She does as I say, and she moans when I push the two fingers I fucked her with into her mouth. She sucks on them like she’s suckin
g dick, and I swear if I don’t get inside her I’m going to explode.

  Normally, I like to fuck from behind. I like to watch their assess jiggle as I fuck them, and finger their assholes when they come, but now… I want to see Cassie’s face. If I go on top, I might catch her breast where Denis left those God-awful bruises, so I flip us until she’s once more astride me.

  She still hasn’t caught her breath, and I do something rare. I turn the light on. It’s the bedside lamp and a soft glow, but I want to see her.

  Her cheeks are flushed, and a small red stain has spread across her chest. Cassie flushes when she comes, and I like it. I also file it away.

  I reach into the nightstand, fish around for my wallet, and take out a condom. Always glove up, it’s my golden rule. For the first time in forever though, I wish I didn’t have to. I’d love to do what I’ve fantasized about and fuck her bare, then make her walk around this house with my cum slicking her thighs.

  I won’t, though. Instead, I tear the condom and roll it down my length. Needing her mouth, I tangle my fist in her hair and pull her to me, taking her in an aggressive kiss. To my surprise and delight, she more than matches my hunger, and our teeth clack as we taste one another. Her lips are so soft, but her tongue and teeth nip, lick, and demand, and I give her what she wants. I want to crawl inside her, to stamp myself on every part of her.

  I’ve never been this hungry for a woman before. Fucking for me is like eating. It’s a pleasure, but fleeting. A good fuck is like a nice burger, it hits the spot, but it’s not something you’d remember weeks later, or that you’d rhapsodize about.

  I like sex. I like to have a lot of it, but there’s always been a small part of me that’s wondered, why all the fuss? Why the obsession? I’ve seen grown men throw everything away to have some woman who caught their eye. In fact, I’ve facilitated a few such downfalls myself.

  It’s always been a point of pride with me that I’d never be one of those men. Pathetic and needy. I’d never walk over burning coals for a fleeting taste of pussy, not when it’s so plentiful to me. The scary thing is, I’d crawl over those coals for more of Cassie.

  I help her balance by holding her hips as she lifts herself and sinks down on my cock.

  Fuck me, she’s so wet, but still so tight. I look at where we’re joined as she raises up and sinks back down. Her lips are puffy, like the ones on her face, and her pussy is a deep pink. I want to be nowhere but balls deep in her for the next few months.

  She lifts off me and slams back down, picking up the pace now and working for it. Her tits bounce, those gorgeous, full, ripe tits, and I want to palm them and test their weight, but I won’t; not while she’s sore.

  Instead, I hold onto her waist, my big hands almost spanning it, and help guide her as she fucks me. When she’s panting and straining, reaching for something she can’t quite get, I use my thumb to stroke her clit.

  “Oh, lord, yes, yes, yes,” she chants as if praying.

  Then I stop, I stop, and her mouth falls open. “Say please, sir,” I demand.

  “What?” She’s fighting it again, her breath coming rapidly as our gaze’s lock, something intense passing between us.

  “Ask me nicely,” I say.

  “Please, sir,” she says.

  “Please, sir, what?”

  “Please, sir … make me come.”

  “Good girl.”

  In this moment, I don’t feel like a king—I feel like a fucking god.

  I’m going to come. I need her to first, so I tap her clit, hard and fast, not sure if she’ll like it, but she does because she cries out and grips my cock as if she’s fucking strangling it.

  I come so hard I see the stars I wanted her to.

  I flip us again, so she’s underneath, me still inside, and I kiss her ravenously. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me back. Not wanting to, but knowing I must, I pull out of her, tie off the condom, and throw it into the small trash can by the bed. Then I go back to kissing her.

  I can’t get enough of this girl. My hand presses between her legs, cupping her pussy, and she moans. Goddamn, she moans as if we’ve not just fucked, as if she’s not just come twice.

  Needing to see if I can make her come again, I keep cupping her whole pussy, pressing it, and she presses back. She’s so swollen and wet that when I slip one finger inside it just glides in. I wish she were sloppy with my cum; that’s the only way this would be hotter. I add a second finger, then a third. And soon I’m fucking her with my hand, three fingers inside her, and the heel of my hand pressed right up against her.

  She’s pulsing against me, and I don’t know if it’s because of aftershocks from her previous orgasm or because she’s about to come again. Her fingers grip my shoulders, and her eyes widen as her neck strains, and she parts her lips… She’s reaching for it, chasing it, and it’s the most fucking beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

  Then she comes, her cunt rubbing up against my palm as she cries out over and over.

  When she’s finished, her head falls back, and I stare at her in awe. I’ve never had a woman so openly carnal in my bed. I’ve had women who are filthy fucks, who love all kinds of depraved shit, but I’ve never had someone so greedy for me as Cassie. I’ve never had someone so honestly submissive. It’s always been a game, but it’s not a game between us.

  She wipes her face and gives a soft laugh. “You broke me,” she says.

  “Good,” I reply. “I wanted to. I want to break you wide open, Cassie, and see your fucking soul. I want all of you. Every deep, dark hidden corner.”

  I don’t know why the hell I’m saying these possessive, stupid words, but they come tumbling out.

  She looks at me, and her eyes clear, and then she shakes her head. “No, you don’t get to have all of me, Konstantin.”

  What the fuck? “I don’t?” I ask.

  “No, you don’t. You get this, but you don’t get it all. Only the man I love, the man who loves me in return, gets it all. We can do this again, though; it was fun.”

  She kisses me, and it’s nice, but the hotness has gone. In fact, it’s as if a veil has come over her, and she’s cool and collected.

  She’s like me. Like I am after sex. I’m normally the one to close down, if I ever opened up in the first place, which I don’t. I did now, though, and this woman has slapped me in the face.

  Fuck her. Who does she think she is?

  Two can play at her game.

  “I prefer to sleep alone,” I say. It’s cold and hard, and I see it hits home because there’s a flicker of hurt in her eyes. I must be fucking losing it because despite the shit she’s just pulled with me, I don’t want to see that hurt. “I have nightmares,” I grind out.

  “Ah, I’m sorry, that sucks.” She kisses me sweetly. “I hope you don’t tonight. I hope you’re tired out enough not to.” She winks at me, gets out of the bed, covers herself, and walks out of the room as if she doesn't have a care in the world.

  What just happened?

  I should be glad, happy I had the best sex of my life and then the woman left. Every man’s dream, right? I’m not glad. I want her back. I want to sleep holding her, with my nose in her coconut and lime hair.

  Then I want to wake her up, repeatedly, and fuck her all over again. I want her to fetch my mail to me in my study, between her perfect little white teeth, crawling. I want her to sit on my knee while I pet her, feed her, and treat her like the precious fucking thing she is. Then I want to fuck her again and again. I want to do this every day, for however long it takes for us to be sated. Which, the way I feel right now doesn’t seem possible.

  Cassie was never going to be a once and done kind of a woman for me, and now I know just how much more she is, and I don’t know what the fuck to do about it.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Cassie

  Walking away from Konstantin last night was one of the hardest things I’ve done in my life, but I did it because of what Andrius said. I thought about his words, as
I first got into bed with Konstantin, and I decided there and then I’d finish the night by walking away.

  I can make him chase me if that’s what it takes.

  In fact, once I did the deed and walked away, it did me good. I felt empowered because I realized that I really was okay with going back to my own room. I’d made a conscious choice to have great sex and take responsibility for that and the aftermath. I didn’t need the big man to make me feel okay. I went back to my own bed like the adult woman I am and fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.

  Maybe the sleep bit was due to the unbelievable orgasms I had.

  It was the best I’ve had ever bar none. I smirk as I think about it now, in the kitchen alone, again, thank the lord. I really like being able to make myself a snack or a drink now and again, and I’ve figured out when the housekeeper is out of the room for her break.

  The man made me come three times, I think as I grab a carton of almond milk, some bananas, and some chocolate spread. Smoothie time.

  Three times, and they were all epic. God, but he’s good in bed. Intense, focused, passionate.

  I’ve got my ear buds in and one of my favorite songs playing, Peter Gabriel, Sledgehammer. I love the beat, it’s sexy. I wiggle my hips in time to the tune and wonder how I’ve never felt so alive before. So very alive.

  My whole body is still on a high from the sex, and I want more, more, more. I swear, I’m addicted to that man already. To his big hands, and his even bigger cock, his gorgeous scent, and his amazing taste.

  Humming along, I shriek when a voice close by says, “I see you got what you went looking for last night.”

  I pull my ear buds out and turn to face Andrius. He’s leaning against the counter, cocky smirk fastened in place.

  “Can’t a girl dance without men making assumptions.”

  “So I’m wrong.”

  I can’t stop the damn stupid smile that plays over my lips.

  “Ha,” he says playfully.

  I glance around and see no one around or lurking in the corridor outside. “I took your advice,” I whisper.