My eyes meet his and I see nothing but truth in them. He’s serious—dead freaking serious—and I shiver in disgust at the image that that scene paints.
“No man touches you, Inessa. You’re mine,” he continues.
“I’m not yours,” I rebuke.
“You’re my temptress, my beautiful, brown-eyed temptress. You belong to me,” he murmurs against my ear, his breath hot and his voice soft.
“No, I’m not,” I pant. Clearly, my body hasn’t received the message my mouth is trying to convey.
His hand slides from my hip to the waistband of my panties, and his fingers dive inside. He then fills me with a groan.
“This wet cunt tells me differently, yagodka,” he moans in my ear as he starts to finger fuck me. My hands fly to his shoulders as I stupidly widen my legs a little for him as I ride his hand.
“Fuck, you’re so wet and warm,” he whispers against my temple as the hand around my throat disappears.
I close my eyes, inhaling his scent around me, his body pressing against mine, and his fingers moving inside of me. It’s too much. I know this won’t last. This is a fit of jealousy. Tomorrow, he’ll be gone, doing who knows what. He might come back in a couple days to try and get into my bed again, and that will be the cycle.
“Dominik, no. We’re done,” I say, my voice breathy and so damn weak sounding, even to my own ears.
I hear his clothes shuffling, his belt clinking, and then a whoosh of fabric that I know, from experience, are his pants hitting the floor.
“Fuck. That.”
I gasp when his fingers leave my center and he spins me around, tearing my panties down my legs in an instant. My hands automatically fly up to brace myself when he wrenches my hips back and slams inside of me from behind.
“Dominik,” I cry out.
“No man touches you. This cunt is mine,” he breathes as he takes me with such brutal force that it knocks the breath from my lungs completely.
Dominik doesn’t say anything else. His hand snakes from around my hip, and his fingers press against my clit. I whimper, closing my eyes tightly when he begins to stroke me. The pain, the pleasure, his feral, primal need—it’s all too damn much. I throw my head back when my climax comes in a sudden rush, and he grunts at the same time, his thrusts never slowing, his fingers still playing my sensitive numb.
“Nik, stop, too much,” I plead through my gasps.
“Shut the fuck up,” he grinds out.
Tears prick my eyes at the pain, the agonizing pain that floods me until it turns to something different. It turns to pleasure, and I feel myself climbing yet again toward a release. I sob, tears streaming down my face when I come again, the climax nothing but a burst that rocks me to my core.
Dominik wraps his hands around my waist, his fingers digging in before he thrusts so hard inside of me I scream. Then he stills, and I feel his release fill me. I let my head hang as tears fall from my eyes. He slides out of me and then turns me around, his pants already back over his hips before he picks me up and carries me to bed.
“Please leave,” I whisper into his neck before he pulls my comforter back and lays me down. He ignores me as he unhooks my bra and tosses it to the ground.
“No,” he finally answers.
I watch him strip his clothes, my eyes taking in each tattoo on his chest, arms, and hands. They’re pretty, intricate, and they remind me of my papa. I’ve never seen Uncle Pavlov without a shirt, but I remember my papa had tattoos all over his chest and arms, the exact same color blue as Dominik’s. It just shoves in my face the fact that he’s Bratva.
I shouldn’t care. I’m going to be marrying one of them one day soon; but seeing it right here in front of me, something I’ve been avoiding by screwing him in the dark, a habit I’ve made by turning his bedroom lights out every time I’ve entered his space, it’s now in front of my face. It can no longer be avoided.
“You need to leave,” I say again.
“I said no. I’m your man,” he announces.
“You aren’t. You and I have never been anything more than a physical relationship, and now that’s over.”
“Are you afraid he’ll come in here and see you with me?” he asks, taking his gun out and setting it down on my nightstand.
I turn over to face him.
“There’s nothing between me and him. There’s no reason to be jealous,” I mutter.
I watch as he slides into bed, completely naked, before he wraps his hand around my waist, tugging me into his side so quickly that I have to press my palms to his chest for balance. I look up into his eyes and see that he’s determined. Yet, there still lies some secret and a sense of assurance beneath his intense gaze.
“I’m here now, every night. This is done with him,” he announces.
“That doesn’t work for me,” I say, my heart racing with a mixture of excitement and panic.
A week ago, I would have welcomed this. A week ago, I would have thought this was one step closer to a relationship; that maybe, just maybe, he wanted more with me. Except right now, I feel like a fence post and he’s pissing on me so no other dogs come sniffing around. Plus, I’m supposed to be getting engaged to someone, probably sooner rather than later.
“I don’t give a fuck what works for you,” he grunts before he presses his lips against mine.
“Dominik,” I sigh into his mouth as his hand cups my breast.
“Your body is mine, Inessa. No other man touches you. No other man sinks his cock inside of you. No other man but me,” he murmurs against my lips.
“I wish that could be true, for always, Nik,” I whisper.
His head wrenches up and he stares at me with confusion. I cup his cheek, running my thumb along his bottom lip, knowing that this must end between us. I must do as Uncle Pavlov wishes, and I’ll never be able to do that if Dominik continues to work his way further inside of my heart.
“This needs to be done.”
Dominik shakes his head and his eyes are alight with mischief, something I’m used to in bed with him—something that I don’t want right now. I feel his fingers gently run back and forth along the bottom of my breast, and I try not to moan. It feels so gentle and soft, so incredibly sexy.
“What do you want yagodka moya?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want, I can’t have it. You need to go,” I rasp closing my eyes tightly as he takes my nipple and lavishes it with his tongue. He’s being so tender and gentle, too freaking sweet.
“Tell me,” he whispers against my wet nipple.
“My uncle is going to draw up a contract for my marriage,” I blurt out.
He sits straight up, releasing me, and his eyes burn bright. I can see that he’s ready for a fight as anger swims in his gaze.
I STARE AT HER, at my Inessa. I’m shocked by her words. Completely and totally surprised by them. I cock my head to the side and try and figure her out. She’s not just a real estate agent. I never looked into her, just fucked her. The only woman I have ever brought into my own apartment on a regular basis, and yet, I obviously had no clue who she was.
“Who is your uncle?” I demand.
“Yuriy Pavlov,” she announces. I feel my blood run cold.
Dr. Pavlov, the same Pavlov that came to me and asked for protection for his daughter.
“You’re who he calls his daughter?”
“Daughter?” she breathes as though she’s surprised.
“He’s adopted you?” I ask, getting impatient and irritated with her.
“Well, yes, he raised me,” she nods.
“What the fuck,” I whisper.
“What the fuck?” I roar.
Inessa scoots away from me, her back hitting the headboard at the same time she brings her knees up to hide her body, cowering from me. I don’t blame her. I’m pissed as fuck. She’s Bratva. She’s fucking Bratva, and I never knew it. Her parents were killed and she was raised in this life; she was supposed to be sold into slavery, yet she was saved. A million emoti
ons run through me, hitting me like a goddamn freight train.
“You were never contracted?” I ask, trying to stay calm.
Her eyes widen and she bites her bottom lip. She looks so vulnerable, so fucking scared, and all I want to do is hold her. Inessa never looks vulnerable. She’s always confident, strong, standing tall, and not taking any shit. Right now, I feel the need to hold her, tell her that all will be okay, and take her gently. I do none of those things as I wait for her answer.
“I was, once,” she whispers before taking a deep breath. “His name was Gregori Zima. Uncle Pavlov burned the contract once he was killed and labeled a traitor.”
“You’re lucky he’s dead,” I grunt. The fuck was a mean fucking, crazy bastard.
“You’re asking me this. Does this mean that you are contracted?” she asks. I close my eyes for a moment before reopening them.
I look right at her and watch as her tears form, falling down her cheeks before she can even blink.
“I signed my contract when I was fourteen,” I admit.
“Why aren’t you married?” she asks with a shaky voice.
I rub the back of my neck, hoping that this conversation goes well. It’s not one that I wanted to have with her; at least not yet. It needs to happen, though. She needs to know. I’ve kept her at arm’s length and at a distance for long enough. I’ve lied to myself, saying that she meant nothing, when clearly she means something to me, or at least her body does.
“Larisa is a spoiled bitch and a whore. I haven’t wanted to marry her because the thought of sticking my bare cock inside of her and living with her makes me violently ill,” I admit.
“Dominik,” Inessa whispers.
“I want out of it. I’ve tried to get out of it, but unless I knock you up or catch her cheating on me publicly, I’m fucking stuck. The wedding is in six months.”
“Get the fuck out,” Inessa grinds out through a clenched jaw.
“Nessa,” I say, looking up at her.
“You’re engaged! You’ve been engaged! Get the fuck out,” she screams, almost hysterically.
I reach for her ankles, grasping onto them as I pull her down from against the headboard. I crawl on top of her, capturing her wrists with one hand and pressing them into the mattress above her head.
Her breathing is heavy and I can’t stop myself from dropping my gaze down to her prefect breasts before I take a nipple between my lips and lick her delicious bud. Fuck, she always tastes so fucking good.
“Spread your legs, Nessa,” I murmur against her nipple as I lick and suck her.
“Never again,” she says, but her voice is shaky.
I move my lips to her other nipple, wishing to taste her, to relax her and to sweeten her for me. My free hand massages her hip, and within minutes, her legs spread, allowing my hips to fall between them. I don’t wait even a moment before I glide myself inside of her wet heat. Once I’m fully seated inside of her, I lift my face and look down at hers.
Inessa looks wary, yet her features are soft, and her eyes are glazed over and so fucking sweet.
“Don’t sign anything. I’ll take care of you,” I whisper as I start to fuck her slowly, pulling out and sliding back with slow, practiced, gentled ease.
“What would that make me?” she asks boldly.
One look in her eyes and I know she knows the answer. I shake my head as I continue to fuck her.
“Say it out loud. I want to hear it,” she whispers as she lifts her thighs. I fall that much deeper inside of her.
I wrap one hand in the back of her hair, fisting it tightly; and with my other hand, I wrap it tightly around her waist. This fucking temptress. I shouldn’t have to say anything, answer to anybody. I’m a man. I’m a Brigadier in the Bratva, and I answer to nobody but my Pakhan. Yet, here I am, willing to answer to her, knowing she is not going to like the answer I give her.
“I’ll take care of you,” I murmur against her lips before I slide my tongue inside of her delicious, warm mouth.
I fuck her, filling her mouth with my tongue and her cunt with my dick. Inessa’s arms wrap around me, and she lifts her hips with each of my thrusts, meeting me, fucking me as I fuck her. Then she stills around me before she rips her lips from mine and cries out with her climax. I follow behind her, burying my face in her neck when I cry out with my own.
“You need to leave,” she whispers, even as her legs and arms keep me wrapped up tightly against her.
“No.”
I’m too exhausted to argue, mentally and physically. So, for the first time ever, I fall asleep wrapped in Dominik’s arms. His body is warm and heavy, and his legs tangle with mine as he presses his chest and hips against my back, his hand wrapped around my breast in front.
I’ve never slept all night with a man. This is not me, but somehow it’s comfortable and it feels too right. I should kick him out and make him leave, refuse to allow him to stay, but I don’t.
“Holy shit,” I cry as my eyes fly open.
My hips are in the air and my chest against the mattress. Dominik is behind me, his face buried in my pussy, and he’s eating me. Not just eating. No. He’s devouring me as though he’s starving. His tongue flicks my clit, again and again, and I can’t hold back my moan of delight.
I shift my hips, pressing my center even closer to him. When his hands reach up and grab my ass, his fingertips pressing into my flesh, I come—hard.
Once I’m breathing normally, or more normally, I feel Dominik’s hand slide up my spine and twist in my hair. His fingers wrap around the strands at the back of my head, and then he yanks my hair, pulling my head and neck back as he fills me with his cock with a groan.
My back is arched, my neck arched as well, and my scalp burns, but all I can focus on is the way he’s moving inside of me; the way he stretches me and fills me, like no other man ever has.
“I’ll take care of you,” he grunts as he fucks me.
He pounds into me, hard and unrelenting, his aggression clear. He’s trying to make a point, not only by the way he’s moving his body, but also by the tone of his tight voice.
“No,” I whisper as tears sting my eyes.
“It’s not a goddamn option,” he roars as his hand that was wrapped around my hip reaches out and lands hard on my ass.
“Dominik,” I whimper.
“You’re not anybody else’s. You’re fucking mine,” he grinds out, twisting my head around to look at him.
He’s serious, his look determined, and his eyes focused on mine and nothing else. He’s trying to tell me something, to make it clear that I’m his and I’m not going anywhere, but he can’t make me stay. He’s engaged, and I refuse to be his whore.
“I’m not your whore, Nik,” I whisper. His eyes darken before he stills inside of me with a groan.
“You’re mine, Nessa. If that means I treat you like my whore, then you’ll be that for me. But you’ll only be mine,” he rasps as he releases me and then moves, pressing his chest to my back as I fall to the bed.
“You’re an asshole. It’s not right, it’s not normal, and I refuse,” I whisper as tears fall from my eyes.
“Nothing about this life is normal or right. If you thought it was, you’ve been living in a dreamland,” he murmurs against my ear as his hips continue to gently, lazily, move in and out of me.
“You need to leave,” I rasp as a knock raps against my front door.
“Who the fuck is that?” Dominik snaps, pulling out of me and grabbing his slacks.
I watch as he slides them on over his hips, with no boxers, only zipping them up before he walks out of my bedroom. I run over to his shirt on the floor and slip it on over my naked body, buttoning it as I hurry after him.
Dominik wrenches the door open to Konstantin, who’s face goes from surprise to glowering. Dominik’s already straight back tightens even more. My eyes scan his back, and I realize it’s the first time I’ve actually seen it before. He’s got a rose on his shoulder, and a scary, mean looking bull
on his side. My head jerks when I hear my name. Both men are now looking at me.
“What?”
“What time do you want me to come back to escort you to work, kroshka?” Konstantin asks. My eyes fly to Dominik’s, which are now narrowed on me. He then turns back to Konstantin.
“You’re not needed this morning,” he barks.
“My duties are to be Inessa’s Byki,” Konstantin announces.
“Yeah, you’re to be her Byki, which, by the way, I arranged. I’m your Brigadier. However, I did not give you permission to fuck her, so today, you’re not needed. You’ll be reassigned.”
Dominik doesn’t allow a response. He slams the door in Konstantin’s face before locking it and turning to me. His eyes are dark, glittering with anger instead of their usual passion. The harsh look on his tight face, combined with the angry glare in his eyes, makes me—for the first time since I’ve known him—scared of Dominik. I now see the man he is. The hard man. The Bratva man.
“You need to explain to me why he’s calling you baby,” he growls.
My spine straightens in defiance, the fear suddenly overridden by my anger.
“You need to leave,” I say, repeating myself—again.
“No, and I won’t say it again. You’re my blyad, my whore, and you’ll know your place,” he says, pointing at me.
“Fuck you,” I whisper as tears fall from my eyes once more.
“Yeah, I’ll do that too, Nessa, a fuck of a lot. But you won’t be fucking anybody but me.”
I don’t say another word. There’s nothing left to say to him. He wants to think I’m his whore, then he can think that. However, today I’m going to talk to Uncle Pavlov, and I’m going to put a rush on my own contract. Before that, I’m going to be checking into a hotel.
Dominik thinks he can just break into my apartment, use my body, then go on about his business. When we were together originally, I was in charge of my body, I agreed to our arrangement. Now, I don’t agree, and I’m not going to allow him to take me by force or persuade me.
I’m done.
I walk into my bedroom, ignoring his anger. I have shit to do today, and I refuse to stand around and argue about something that is useless to fight about. Stripping off his shirt, I toss it to the floor before I walk into my bathroom and lock the door.
Tempting the Badman (Russian Bratva #5) Page 6