The Soldier (Chicago Bratva Book 4)

by Renee Rose

  He weaves his fingers into my hair, more a caress than domination, but then his words rasp out harshly. “That’s enough.”

  I pop off immediately, my gaze flying to his face to see if I displeased him.

  The hunger I see there makes my heart pound. He’s starting to show himself to me. That, more than anything he’s ever done, thrills me the most.

  “Show me how you touched yourself before I came in.”

  I stand, my fingers curling between my legs, but he shakes his head and lifts his chin toward the bed.

  “I-I was like this, Master.” I crawl up on the mattress and lie flat on my belly, my hand under my hips. Knowing he’s watching makes it a different game. I part my legs wider to give him a view, arch my ass in the air.

  I’m impossibly wet, dying to have him inside me.

  “That’s pretty. Gospodi, that’s fucking beautiful, Kayla.” He climbs over me. “I spend every weekend memorizing how fucking gorgeous you look when you’re obeying your master.”

  My body hums everywhere with the thrill of his praise. I hump my hand, showing him how much it turns me on to please him. To have him watching me.

  I hear the jingle of his belt and the rustle of his clothes, and then he climbs over me and drags the head of his cock through my juices. He rubs around my clit and my toes literally curl, arches lifting with pleasure.

  “Thank you for taking care of my pussy until I got here.” He shoves in with one smooth motion, burying himself deep.

  I cry out, arching with the delicious pleasure of it.

  “I’m going to spend the rest of the night keeping her wet and satisfied myself.” He eases back then shoves in deep again.

  I moan softly. Everything feels different tonight. Pavel is different—less reserved. His passion isn’t so restrained and leashed. I roll my hips back to take him deeper.

  He picks up speed, his breath already ragged, his need obviously as desperate as mine. He leans on one hand beside my head and holds my nape to keep me in place with the other as he rides me hard and fast.

  “Pavel… Master,” I gasp, already hurtling toward a finish.

  “You’ll come when I do,” he rasps, and I can tell by his roughened voice how close he is.

  “Yes!” I cry out.

  He arcs in and out of me rapidly as the room spins. I want it to last forever. I need it to come to its finish. My muscles tighten around his cock.

  “Don’t you come without me,” he warns, pumping faster.

  “I won’t,” I promise, but it’s not one I’m sure I can keep. But it doesn’t matter because he’s almost there. His strokes grow rough and wild, and then he shoves in deep and shouts.

  I come, squeezing his cock with my inner walls in tight little pulses as the waves of bliss roll out from my core to my fingers and toes.

  Pavel covers my body with his, kissing the back of my neck, his hot breath feathering over my ear. “I missed you,” he says.

  That’s twice he’s said it now. The man who communicates nothing of his own feelings with me.

  I’m freefalling into love with this man who I can’t have a future with. This man who lives with Sasha and is moving back to Russia.

  The heartbreak when this ends is going to be exponential.

  I hope I’m strong enough to withstand it.

  Pavel

  I bury my face in Kayla’s hair and breathe in her spring flower scent. Soon, if things come together, these moments with her won’t feel like stealing. Like another law I’ve broken. It’s starting to feel possible that Kayla could truly be mine. Not just my submissive but wholly mine.

  The more I let myself see the possibility of that happening, the lighter I feel.

  It’s crazy, this sensation of floating.

  Kayla’s phone rings and she moans. “Sorry, Master, I didn’t turn my ringer off.”

  I nip her ear. “That’s because you were talking to me with it,” I remind her. “Do you need to check it?” I reach with my hand. It’s somewhere on the bed near our knees. Finding it, I check the screen as I hand it to her. “Jagger Mason.”

  “Nope,” she says, swiping left across the screen. I ease out of her, and she rolls over beneath me.

  “Who is this man I have to kill for having your number?”

  Laughter lights up her pretty face. “Oh my God, did you just make a joke?”

  I toss the phone away from us. “Depends.”

  She keeps smiling. “He runs the promotions that we work. I already told him I couldn’t work tonight. I don’t know why he’s calling.”

  “I could kill him for you,” I offer.

  She giggles. The musical sound enters my chest and ricochets, lighting every dark shadow there.

  I smile down at her, drinking in all her sweetness.

  Her phone rings again.

  “I’ll kill him now,” I tell her, reaching for it. The screen reads, Kimberly.

  “It’s Kimberly. Your roommate, no?”

  She frowns and reaches for the phone, so I climb off her and hand it over. She sits up, the furrow between her brows deepening as she answers the call. I go to the bathroom to wash my hands and face.

  “Oh God,” Kayla moans into the phone, walking toward the bathroom door. “I don’t know, I mean, Pavel just got here, and he only has one night. Let me ask him.”

  As I dry my hands, I hear the tinny sound of Kimberly’s voice from the other end of the phone. “Why do you have to ask him? Is he really that controlling? Come on, you’re a grown up. You can make this decision on your own and tell him what you decide.”

  I’m not one to take criticism personally, so I wouldn’t give a shit, except I see the effect of Kimberly’s words on Kayla’s face, and I want to punch the wall. She’s gone pale, her eyes round. She appears almost sick to her stomach. Christ, does she think I’m too controlling?

  I guess I am because I step into her space and cup her elbows. “Tell her you’ll call her back,” I murmur.

  “I-I’ll call you back,” she says into the phone.

  I hear Kimberly protesting, but Kayla ends the call, looking at the phone, almost as if she’s frightened of it.

  “What’s going on?” I take the phone from her and set it on the bathroom counter.

  “I guess the event they’re working tonight is going to be slammed, and they need more help. Kimberly says Jagger said if I don’t show up tonight, I’m fired from doing any more promotions with them.” She peers up at me, as if gauging my response.

  I try to gauge hers. “But you don’t want to work tonight.”

  She spreads her hands. “Well, no. I mean, you’re only here one night. This is our time together.”

  “So, you’re not going,” I say. I’m her dom, and she’s looking to me to make this decision. If it helps to make me the bad guy, she can; I definitely don’t give a shit.

  But her expression grows more distressed. She sags. “I don’t know, I don’t want to let my friends down. I mean, I think one of the reasons they don’t like you is because they miss me. I never work with them anymore.” She blinks back tears.

  “They don’t like me?” Fuck, why is this the first I’ve heard about it? Of course, it’s totally my fault. I never made the slightest attempt to ask about her roommates. Or meet them. Christ, I could have made an attempt. I’ve never even seen her apartment.

  That suddenly strikes me as a major omission. How many others have I made?

  I shake my head. “Nevermind.” I hold her shoulders. “What do you want to do, Kayla? I’m a big boy, I won’t sulk if you need to go to work. I can drive you there—I rented a car this time.”

  She gives me her big eyes. The ones that lock onto my face like I’m the god who just lit the moon. “W-would that be okay? I mean, you flew all the way out here, and now I’m ruining—”

  “It’s not ruined,” I interrupt, brushing her hair back from her face.

  Hope sparks behind her eyes. “You could hang out there—I mean, if you want. It’s a privat
e event at a nightclub, but I’m sure I could get you in. Or, that would probably be boring for you—”

  “Sure.”

  Her eyes widen in surprise. “You’d come?”

  “Of course. I want to see you work.”

  “Great!” She’s happy now. Lit up like a Christmas tree in pure, unfiltered joy. She reaches for her phone to call her roommate back.

  Something I know so little about but is starting to seep in. It makes Kayla happy to get to go to work and have me come along. No, that’s not it. It’s about her being a pleaser. She’s happy because she didn’t have to disappoint me or her roommates.

  I wonder if she even knows what she really wants.

  I make it my purpose to figure that out. That’s what a good dom does. That’s what a boyfriend does.

  She and Kimberly make arrangements, and she agrees to meet them at the venue in forty minutes.

  I catch her with my arm around her waist as she lunges for the shower. “No, blossom. If you’re going to be out serving other men tonight, I want you smelling like my cum.”

  Her breath catches.

  I slap her bare ass. “I want my handprints on your skin and your pussy sore enough that you remember I’ve already been deep inside you tonight and by tomorrow morning, I’m going to turn you inside out.”

  She lets out a soft whimper of desire, and I nibble her ear. “I love you,” I murmur.

  There. I said it. It’s the truth, but it was hard for me to admit out loud the first time. Now I’ve owned it, just like I own her.

  She whirls in my arms but buries her face against my chest, like it’s too intense to look at me. She bites my pect, and I full-on chuckle.

  Me.

  Chuckle.

  Love is definitely changing me.

  “Get dressed.” I tell her, gently nudging her away. I give her ass another hard slap because I meant what I said about wanting my prints on her.

  Not that I don’t always want them there.

  Soon, if I can make it all come together, she will wear those prints every fucking day and night.

  15

  Kayla

  I get to the nightclub, which has been booked for the private event, right on time. The promotion is to get sign-ups for insurance consultations, which is probably why Chuck couldn’t get anyone to replace me. Personally, I think the concept is lacking. Sure, I can talk a guy into signing up because I’m cute, wear a skin-tight shirt and give him attention, but the chance of him no-showing the appointment he makes seems very high. What incentive would he have to meet them?

  But that’s not my problem. We get paid a flat fee plus a bonus for every appointment booked, so these stupid events can be lucrative. I’m just a thousand times grateful that Pavel was willing to come along. I don’t want to be apart from him for even a minute. Not when he only has twenty-four hours in town.

  Especially not when he just told me he loves me.

  He loves me!

  I’m still floating.

  Not that it changes our circumstances. But it still makes my soul sing. Knowing he feels the same way I do.

  Pavel parks his rental car in the lot, and we get out. Kimberly, Ashley, and Sheri are getting out of Ash’s Cooper Mini at the same time, and Ashley waves and shouts.

  I wave back and jog toward them then stop, realizing I’m being rude to Pavel.

  “Sorry,” I say, turning back.

  “I don’t need babysitting.” There’s an indulgence to his tone, the kind I usually only hear after he’s put me through a long night of torture, and it’s time for aftercare. But he’s been more outwardly affectionate since he got here tonight.

  It makes me feel like I could fly.

  I flash him a smile and run to my friends—well, as best I can run in my high-heeled boots.

  “Here’s your shirt.” Sheri tosses me a hot pink crop top with the insurance company’s name in black letters across the tits. “I brought you a skirt, too, because I didn’t know what you were wearing.”

  I’m in the sweater dress, so it’s a good thing she brought the skirt. Except I see Pavel glowering at the short, black faux-leather mini.

  He curses in Russian under his breath.

  “This is Pavel,” I say brightly, even though they obviously already have guessed as much. “Pavel, this is Kimberly, Ashley, and Sheri.”

  He shakes each of their hands, his cool, assessing gaze traveling over each of their faces. I know he heard what Kimberly said on the phone earlier about him, and I’m still cringing over it. Not that Pavel seems like the type to get hurt feelings, but I wish—I want—them to get along. But Pavel isn’t like Sasha’s husband Maxim—the kind who charms women with his powerful but benevolent demeanor. Pavel is Pavel—the bad boy with a dangerous air and a smile you have to work very hard to earn.

  My friends may not see what I do at first.

  Hopefully, they will eventually.

  We go inside, and I tell Chuck I have to change but will be ready in just a few minutes. In the bathroom, I shimmy out of my sweater dress and put on the tight crop-top and miniskirt. I brush my hands down my ass, remembering the sting of Pavel’s slap. The possessive words he growled in my ear about smelling like his cum.

  My nipples grow hard and chafe against my bra.

  Out on the floor, the room is already starting to fill. Pavel’s at the bar holding a high-ball glass with a clear liquid—vodka, I assume.

  It occurs to me that I don’t know his favorite kind. Or even what he likes to eat, beyond room service food. There’s so many things I don’t know about him.

  Will I ever get to learn them? Tonight, for some reason, I feel hopeful that I will. Tonight, everything feels open. Different.

  I meet with Chuck to get my appointment book and assignment and head out into the crowd. It’s some kind of young businessman convention—who knows what, exactly, but basically the place is packed with entitled white guys in suits, all looking like they’re just out of college. By the way they’re hitting the open bar, they could be still in college.

  Give it a couple hours, and these guys will be handsy as hell. I’ve seen this sort of scene before.

  I steal a glance at Pavel, pleased to find he’s watching me with that intensity that sends jolts of heat to my core. I head out into the crowd, mingling with the men, chatting them up, getting their phone numbers entered into my system for appointments. Everywhere I go, the inexorable pull of Pavel’s gaze follows me, an invisible connection between us that he could use to snap me back to his side with one gentle tug.

  But he doesn’t snap my leash. He doesn’t sulk about the turn of events, even though I want to. Now that I’m here I’m angry with my decision to come. This job has been a great way to pay the rent for the last year, but it’s not like it’s a resume-builder or a place to meet influential people. I just felt pressured by Kimberly—maybe because she was judging my relationship with Pavel.

  The fact that my roommates think I’m in an unhealthy relationship does concern me, but they also don’t understand kink. Sasha gets it more, but she’s pretty far from normal. She was raised in the bratva. Her father was so medieval he arranged her marriage.

  When I consider things like bringing Pavel back to Wisconsin to meet my parents, it’s pretty hard to imagine.

  What we have is not normal.

  But isn’t normal overrated?

  Halfway through the shift, I lose my drive. I usually work these events like I’m being graded and have to get A pluses straight down my report card, but tonight I can’t see the point. These customers are asses, and the client we’re working for is cheesy as hell for using hot girls to sell their stupid insurance product. It’s probably some kind of swindle, anyway.

  Or maybe it’s just that when measuring the importance of doing this job well compared to the importance of the man patiently waiting for me at the bar, there’s no comparison. Besides, I have a real job now. I went to Lara’s office and signed the contract. I’m now officially a working act
ress. I would be quitting this job soon, anyway. I won’t have time with filming the show.

  The more I think about it, the more annoyed I get at being here. Not that I’m going to walk out tonight. I have way too strong a work ethic for that. But I know now that I made the wrong choice, and Pavel and I are both paying for it.

  “Hey.” I hear Pavel’s sharp voice, and I whirl to see some inebriated asswipe squeezing Kimberly’s ass like it’s dough that needs to be kneaded. Pavel leans against the bar, looking deceptively casual. “Hands off the women.”

  My heels click as I walk swiftly over, not that Pavel or Kimberly need back up from me.

  “What are you, their pimp?” the dumbass snorts, but he has let go of Kim’s ass.

  “I’m the guy who’s going to make you swallow your teeth if you don’t apologize to her.”

  Kimberly’s not like me. She doesn’t run from confrontations. She folds her arms over her chest and cocks her head expectantly.

  The guy looks from Pavel to Kimberly.

  “Sorry,” he says, not really sounding it.

  Kimberly hip checks his table, sloshing the guy’s drink into his lap. “Oops. Me too.” She sashays over to where I stand beside Pavel. “Thanks,” she says to Pavel then elbow nudges me. “We should bring him to all the events.”

  “Yeah, I think this is my last one,” I tell her. “I’m not feeling it.”

  Kimberly blows out a breath. “Yeah, this one sucks. I’m sorry I guilted you into coming.” She points a finger at Pavel. “Don’t you go punishing her for this or whatever it is you do.”

  Beside me, Pavel goes very still.

  My face flushes. “Kimberly.”

  She shrugs. “Whatever. Consenting adults and all that.” She rolls her eyes and leaves us.

  “I’m sorry,” I moan.

  Pavel’s throat works. I see that torment I saw in his eyes the night on the balcony.

  “Oh God. Don’t listen to her. She doesn’t get it, okay? We know what we have is perfect.” I press my body up against his. “It’s amazing.”

  He’s characteristically hard to read.