Her words hit me like a sucker punch to my gut because I knew what she said was true. What I didn’t know was why it excited me so much.
Kathleen
I tried to avoid him as much as I could, but it was hard now that I was in unfamiliar territory. I accepted some things like using the office he set up for me, even though I knew the only reason he did it was to try and maintain control. He knew I had changed and that he no longer held the same kind of power over my emotions that he did before.
His excessive gift giving was over the top. If I showed any interest in anything, he immediately had it purchased for me. I had no intentions of letting him buy me though. I did feel a bit like I was between the proverbial rock and a hard place because I had to use the things he offered me. I didn’t speak the language or know the area which made shopping for myself difficult.
He provided me with a digital camera for my newest hobby, photography. I spent my days exploring Moscow and all of the wonderful sights. There was so much to see and so many beautiful pictures to photograph.
Of course, Yafon was by my side anywhere that I went. Sometimes, Vladimira would accompany me and play tour guide. She loved to watch my face light up in awe and wonder as she showed me all the beautiful treasures of the magical Moscow. There was so much history here, and the architecture was amazing.
Every once in a while, I would catch Glazov leaning against a building, stalking me, watching me the way he did. He showed up at the oddest times and stared at me as I photographed things. There was even one day when I was out shopping that I just happened to look up and saw him standing in the entrance of the boutique, just watching me as I checked out. When I turned to face him fully, he gave me a slight head nod and then left. I’m sure it was his not so subtle way of letting me know he was always watching and that I would never be able to escape him.
My husband relentlessly stalked me, accompanying me anytime he could, and never because I invited him. Sometimes, he would join me; other times, he would walk away. The only constant was that he was ever-present and always watching. Glazov wasn’t the type of man to make idle threats. In his mind, he was only keeping his word.
He shadowed me everywhere, and he was damn good at it. He was like a ghost, and I only saw him when he wanted to make his presence known.
I knew he was trying to make it up to me for tricking me into coming to Russia by faking his own death. I could admit, even though he had really pissed me off, that we were safer here, and I was grateful for that. My husband ruled Moscow, and the lines between legal and illegal were very blurred here. In fact, my husband was so powerful that he was rumored to have helped get the President into office.
I made my way into a small boutique to check out their matryoshka dolls. I had started collecting the little nesting dolls as soon as I arrived. Though I saw the spark of recognition in the store clerk’s eyes when I walked in, I was still shocked when she moved to lock the door behind me and turned the open sign over to closed. “Hello Mrs. Glazov, how can I help you?”
I looked at Yafon, but he only shrugged as if to say I should not be shocked that rumors of the American with fiery red hair had reached the locals. Everyone knew my husband, but more than that, everyone feared my husband.
I became enamored with a family set of nesting dolls and purchased them along with a set painted to look like Russian political leaders from the past and present.
I could still hear the shop owner thanking me and telling me to return as she turned the sign back over after I left.
I was gaining a new understanding of just how powerful my husband was here in Russia. I couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t leave the country. Something told me my husband would never let me escape with his child…
The child in me was growing daily, as was my husband’s obsession with me. I knew he was excited about welcoming his son into the world; I was excited too. What I wasn’t excited about was knowing my son would be born and raised in the Bratva sect my husband ruled. There was no escaping fate, though, and my opinion on the subject simply didn’t matter.
Kathleen
I lied in bed after taking a long, hot bath. My ankles were swollen from walking all day, and I needed something to take my mind off how badly my legs ached. I purposely pulled the covers from my nude body and spread my legs to finger my pussy. I knew he was watching me, and my inner exhibitionist wanted to taunt him. I wanted to make him suffer. I wanted to be the one to deny the man who was never told no. I had something he wanted, and I also had the power to refuse him. For probably one of the first times in his life, someone held power over him. He was going to pay for lying to me, and this seemed to be an effective way to make him think twice about ever doing it again. I was still pissed about being put through months of not knowing whether he was dead or alive.
I took my time and spread my folds open slowly, running my finger up and down my soaking wet slit. I pinched at my nipples, purposely putting on a show to antagonize my husband.
I jumped when the door opened, and he entered dressed in drawstring pants.
“Get out of here,” I commanded as I plunged my finger into my folds, enjoying the look of agonized hunger on his face. Perhaps Alexander Glazov was not the only one with a sadistic streak. At that moment, I was quite enjoying being an emotional sadist.
He licked his lips as he watched me intently. He looked like a wild animal when he said, “Always the little cock tease, aren’t you?”
I watched as he stood by the bed, pulled his cock from his pants, and started stroking it. I licked my lips as I debated using him sexually. I needed to be fucked, and I needed it rough and hard. I spread myself open and taunted him further with my words. “Look at what you can’t have anymore. Maybe I’ll give you a taste. Maybe I’ll let you run just the head of that swollen cock of yours over my soaking wet slit.”
He sucked in air through his teeth and growled as if it was taking every bit of restraint he could muster to keep from slamming my legs back by my ears and fucking me until I couldn’t walk. I liked the thought of that.
I leaned over to take his cock into my mouth and sucked on just the head while I ran my tongue all along the underside. I pulled away and then nodded my head towards the door, chuckling. “Get out of here.”
I knew I was playing with fire and pushing him to take me. Hell, that’s what I wanted. I knew he was tormented because he didn’t want to be rough with me while I was pregnant.
“Come here, and I’ll let you put just the head in my opening.” He was raging mad. He looked like he was ready to kill me, yet I kept taunting him. He was right; tonight, I was a cock tease.
He still hadn’t said anything yet. I watched as he pulled his pants off and straddled me. “Rub the head of your cock over my pussy, now!” I demanded.
“You’re playing with fire, Ptichka.” His cold blue eyes held me frozen in place as he wiggled his huge cock at my opening. He slathered it in my juices and pushed just the head inside. My whole body was shaking.
“Still want me to leave?” Now it was his turn to taunt me as he slid around in my juices and played at my opening. I could feel my pussy clenching as if it wanted to reach out and grab hold of the source of pleasure being presented to it. I chuckled as I thought of a Venus Fly Trap.
I thrust my hips up at him trying to make contact, but he pulled away from me.
“I have ten inches of pleasure to sink into that hungry, little, hot pussy of yours, and all you have to do is ask for it.”
“Fuck me!” I demanded. He reached down and grabbed my ass with both hands, lifted my hips up to him, and pushed his swollen member inside.
“Are you sure, Ptichka, because I can leave like you asked me to?”
“Take it,” I growled like some feral cat in heat.
“I aim to please, my little cock tease.” He rose from the bed, and for a second, I thought he would leave just to prove a point. The fact was, though, we were both too far gone for that.
He flipped me over so I was on all fours and then pulled me towards the edge of the bed.
He slowly and methodically pushed into me as he spoke. “You know, because you’re carrying my son, I won’t fuck you senseless. You need to get your anger towards me out of your system while you are pregnant because once you have this baby of mine, I’m going to tie your ass up and fuck you raw.” He pulled his cock out and bent down to lick at the juices that were seeping down my inner thighs.
“You are one hot little vixen, aren’t you? Those hormones raging through your system have got you so horny that you’re running on pure animal instinct, girl.”
“Fuck me, Glazov!”
He ignored me and slowly pushed two fingers into my opening while he sucked at my clit with his big, thick lips. I lost it. He licked all around my mound, intentionally making slurping noises and telling me how good I tasted. He licked, sucked, and told me how hard he was going to fuck me after he got done cleaning me up. The man had mastered dirty talk.
He stood behind me and slowly pushed into me.
“Oh girl, I have missed this tight pussy of yours.” His shallow pumps became deep thrusts. They weren’t hard thrusts, just full, long, satisfying pumps. I knew he was scared he would hurt the baby if he fucked me too hard.
He groaned a very satisfied groan as he unloaded months’ worth of unspent desire into me. My arms and legs were useless, and all I could do was crumple to a heap on the bed. I barely remember a warm washcloth cleaning me off before the comfort of my husband’s body spooning my own put me to sleep. It felt good to be satisfied and back in the arms of the man I loved as we slept together for the first time in months.
His body was rock solid hard as he pulled me further into his embrace. I felt safe, protected, and loved by a man I had once thought incapable of such emotions. I knew now it wasn’t a matter of Glazov not being capable of love; it was a matter of him loving obsessively when he did.
Chapter Thirteen
Glazov
My mind wandered as I sipped on chilled vodka while awaiting my wife’s return. Yafon had already informed me that they were on their way home.
Being away from her had been one of the hardest things I’d ever endured. I wondered if that lunch date I set up with Vladimira had helped my cause at all. I didn’t have to tell my sister what to say to my wife; the truth was all she needed to hear. My sister was well aware of my sexual escapades before I married my wife. She knew there was a different woman every night. This was the first time Vladimira had ever seen me obsessed with a woman. I know my wife, and there’s no doubt in my mind that she questioned my sister about my previous women. Hell, I had counted on it. Judging from my wife’s behavior in finally giving in to me, Vladimira had been honest with her.
Staying away from my wife was the hardest thing I had ever been forced to do, especially when I knew how much she was suffering. My lifestyle was such that I was constantly plagued by threats from enemies and law enforcement. In Russia, it wasn’t so bad because I held more power. The distinction between legal and illegal activities was not so clearly delineated here, and for my family, who was responsible for putting the right men into powerful political positions for decades, the lines were even more blurred.
Coming back to Russia had been a necessary evil. I hated being without my wife, and once I had learned of her pregnancy, it became an almost impossible feat. There wasn’t a single day that I didn’t feel as though my heart was being ripped out of my chest. The woman had an effect on me that no other woman had ever accomplished. Before her, I was convinced I was incapable of falling in love. She shattered that belief, and I will never be the same because of it. Love had not changed me in the same way it does some men; I had not become more merciful towards my adversaries. If anything, I was even more relentless and more ruthless in my business dealings now that I had something to lose. I would do anything to keep my family safe and stay out of jail.
Before my wife, women threw themselves at me. They did anything I wanted them to do, and they did it without question. It was always the same. They would eventually want more from me, and I eventually grew bored with them. That was the way of things until my Ptichka. She had the fiery temperament redheads were rumored to have, and I loved it. She was the first woman I’d been involved with who ever stood up to me. The women before her catered to my every whim either because they feared me too much, or because they wanted the prestige of being the boss’s woman too badly.
I was obsessed with her, and my obsession only grew with each passing day. Now, she was the center of my universe. Her pregnancy solidified her place in my world. She was the woman carrying the next generation of Bratva. She couldn’t escape even if she wanted to now. I had succeeded in my plan; I will never lose her. From the moment I’d laid eyes on her, that had been my intention.
I couldn’t figure out how this woman had ensnared me in her web. I was completely and utterly captivated by her. There was no way I could explain how she permeated every aspect of my life, but then again, I have never been in love before.
Her screams of glee broke me from my reverie, and I watched as she tossed her shopping bags on the bed before she ran over to sit on my lap, facing me. I sat my vodka down off to the side and eyed her. It made me happy to see her happy. She was the one thing that brought joy into my fucked-up world of organized crime.
Kathleen
I screeched with joy as I entered the bedroom where my husband sat and waited for me.
Life-size nesting dolls greeted me, the largest I’d ever seen.
They stood in line, in order of descending height, and they were perfect replicas of us with three children, two older boys and a girl. They were absolutely exquisite. The time and attention to detail it must have taken to make them look so much like us was simply remarkable.
I was thrilled, not only because he purchased them, but also at the amount of thought he put into having them made. It was endearing, to say the least.
I jumped onto his lap and wrapped my legs around him. He nodded at Yafon, a silent command for the bodyguard to leave.
I looked into his face, and he looked angry as he eyed me. I never could get an accurate read on him.
His eyes cut through me as he unbuttoned my shirt and began pinching and pulling at my tits.
“Stop it,” I whined, “that hurts.”
He pulled my bottom lip down with one thumb as he used his other to rub my nipple until it stood at attention.
“You have no idea what real pain is.”
His hand tugged at a fistful of my hair as he gritted his teeth and glared at me.
He ran his tongue over his teeth, making a clicking noise as he stared at me.
He bent closer and whispered, “Lift that skirt up, spread those sweet little lips, and sit on my thick, hard cock. Now!”
My hands trembled as I lifted up my skirt, moved my panties over to the side, and slowly lowered myself down onto his erection.
His hand tangled in my hair as he thrust up into me. “Do as I say, and do it now, Ptichka. Fucking isn’t going to hurt that baby.”
I grabbed his shoulders and began moving up and down with more force.
“That’s it. There’s that ‘I’m going to come face’ I love so much. You better not, though. No more doing whatever you want. Your body belongs to me; therefore, your orgasms belong to me. Do you think you can control me with that hot little pussy of yours? You deceive yourself if you believe that’s true.”
Every nerve in my body was on high alert. The way his eyes dared me to disobey him and the threats he hissed in my ear only served to stoke the flames of my passion for him. He grabbed my head, fisting handfuls of hair and pulling hard by the roots, right before he whispered, “Come.”
His mouth muffled my screams as I convulsed on top of him. If sex was good before, then it was off the charts now. Being pregnant only intensified the experience.
Glazov wasn’t just good looking; he was sexy. The fact that he was dangerous turned
me on regardless of how hard I tried to fight it. Never knowing what was going on inside that head of his only made him more compelling. He was an impossible conundrum I was determined to piece together and figure out. His power pulled me in, enticing me to delve deeper into his world of depravity. The wickedness in him called out to the darkness in me—a darkness I never knew existed until Glazov.
Chapter Fourteen
Glazov
I stood in the ring and stretched my neck back and forth as I sized up my opponent.
My sadistic need for blood had reared its ugly head, and my need to feed it was escalating. What I actually needed was a good torture session with one of my enemies, but this would have to do for now.
I flexed my fists and immediately began assaulting my opponent ruthlessly. Though my sparring partner was a professional fighter, he stood no chance against me. The crunching sound of disintegrating bone was loud in the ring as I mercilessly beat the man.
Blood flew, feeding my sadism and adding fuel to my burning need to hurt someone. There was a method to my madness; this kept my wife safe. Better to pummel a willing opponent than to subject my wife to pain.
My men stood around the ring and watched with avid interest. Some of them were as sadistic in nature as I was. They had to be ruthless, blood hungry warriors to carry out some of my commands when they interrogated those who dared to cross me. They had all been handpicked by me. Some of them were even childhood friends whose fathers had served my father. We were all just one, big, dysfunctional, fucked-up, bloodthirsty family.
We needed each other; we needed the semblance of normality. The need to be accepted started in our childhoods when we first learned we were a different breed. Knowing other families involved in organized crime gave us the solidarity children need. Over the years, we grew into men who no longer cared about what was politically correct. Though times had changed, we continued to preserve our fathers’ antiquated beliefs. Even our women upheld our traditions and lived their lives as fate determined. We clung together as family, and they bonded in a sisterhood of women whose husbands were in our Bratva sect. As cold-blooded as we were and as unemotional as we seemed, we still needed to feel like there were others like us, those who followed the paths their ancestors paved for them long before their births. We were answering the call of Bratva and supporting one another in our beliefs. We were telling ourselves that our lifestyle was normal, telling ourselves we were normal.
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