He tugged at the sash around her neck, forcing her to her feet as it tightened. “Perhaps a little breath play’s in order, my love.”
“Perhaps a little puke play’s in order, my love. If you pull this fucking sash any tighter around my neck I’m going to get sick all over your pretty Ferragamos.”
Okay, I’ll play along, this should be interesting.
“It’s nice to see you haven’t lost your ability to be a sneaky little thief.” He pulled the sash tight enough to see a tiny spark of fear in her eyes. What he really wanted to do was tighten it enough to make her struggle, perhaps even claw at his hands to loosen it. But then there was that whole puking thing he wasn’t down for.
“People who live in glass houses…well, whatever the fuck,” she gasped. “You know the rest.”
“I don’t live in a glass house. I live in a mansion, with a dungeon. A mansion that has a safe that’s been broken into by my nosey wife.”
“That’s community property, buddy.”
“I see…nice to see that you’re not in the shadows, but in a space between them. That way you can see both the light and the dark, my little Ptichka.”
“I wasn’t aware there was light in you, my Pakhan.”
“It takes both light and dark to view life in truth.”
“Oh, truth…are we talking about truth now?”
They locked eyes, his narrowing suspiciously. She knew something and he needed find out what it was.
Perhaps he was going about this all wrong. He pulled her over to stand next to one of the chairs in front of his desk. With slow deliberation, he slipped off the aforementioned Ferragamos and socks, then unbuckled his pants and let them slide to the floor before lowering himself into the chair.
“Take off the robe. Come sit on my cock.” He kicked his pants to the side, never taking his eyes off her. As she straddled his thighs, he ran his fingers through her slit. It pleased him to feel his finger slide effortlessly through her slick folds.
“Fear is still an aphrodisiac after all these years, hmm?” he commented as he tightened the sash around her neck and yanked her hips toward him. “Now, here’s how we’re going to do this,” he grunted as he impaled her on his cock in one swift move. “You’re going to answer my questions or I’m going to choke the shit out of you. Those are your options.”
“Always so easy to work with.”
He hissed in a breath, bearing his teeth as he moved his hips beneath her. “Where did you go today?”
She tossed her head back and moved up and down on his cock, forgetting the question until he tightened the noose.
“You know where I went,” she gasped. “The library.”
“I know that,” he replied, his voice tight as he willed an orgasm away. His balls were already drawing up in response to her pussy’s snug, velvety heat. He grabbed a nipple and twisted it until she cried out. “What I want to know is why…”
“Research.”
Katrina was the journalist in the family, so her answer made no sense. He scowled, keeping his rhythm slow and steady. “Research for what?”
“You’re hiding something from me, Glazov. I have a right to know.”
“You don’t get to do that, Ptichka—you don’t get to turn this shit around on me.”
“Your father! I want to know about your father,” she blurted before she could stop herself.
Glazov’s jaw clenched and his eyes widened. Nostrils flaring, he shoved her away from him and rose to his feet, rage flaring in his eyes. She picked her robe up off the floor and slid it on as he straightened his clothes and strode out of the office to their bedroom.
She wasn’t going to let this go so she followed behind him. He was uncharacteristically untidy as he undressed, his hands accomplishing the task with jerky motions as he let his clothes drop to the floor in a heap. He crossed the room, beautifully naked, and grabbed the bottle of vodka. Keeping his eyes locked on her, he tilted his head back and took a huge swig from the bottle. After another swallow, he lowered the bottle to his side and stood there, chest heaving.
Not good.
She quietly padded over to their bed, drew back the covers and lay down. When she looked up, he was there at the side of the bed. He offered her the bottle…his way of apologizing.
“Have a drink on me.”
After a long pull from the bottle, she handed it back to him and lay there in the silence, waiting. He would talk when he was ready and not a moment before. Eventually, he set the bottle on the nightstand and slid into bed next to her.
“My father was a hard man. We were a lot alike in that sense, but in the most important ways he wasn’t like me at all. He never tried to strike a balance between his ruthlessness and…family. Things like that. He drank too much. Fucked around on my mother. Beat the shit out of his wife and kids.
“When he died, I made the decision to come stateside just to get away from the legacy of shame and terrible memories he left. I vowed I would take his ruthlessness in business and use it against my enemies. I also vowed that I would not have a family. Bratva would be my family. Then…there was you.”
Cold, blue eyes found hers briefly, then closed on a deep, agonized breath as he continued, “Adjusting to family life was difficult for me on occasion, simply because I didn’t have anything to go by. I just knew I despised his example and was determined not to repeat it.”
He shrugged. “Anyway…it wasn’t enough that he fucked me up while he was alive; it appears he has come back from the grave to torment me.”
“What do you mean? How can someone come back from the grave and hurt you?”
He chuckled indulgently as he shook his head. “Always so full of questions.” He rolled onto his side and stroked his palm against her cheek. As always, it soothed him when she leaned into his touch. They were so attuned to each other that they could feel the joy and pain of the other as if it were their own; so deeply connected that it hurt.
“My father was jealous of me, of my youth, my quick mind – of my mother’s affection for me. As I got older it got worse. I was a natural leader and his men began gravitating toward me, taking my lead on jobs. He felt betrayed and hated me, eventually couldn’t stand to look at me.”
“Instead of asserting his power like a man of strength, he buckled under the pressure. You can’t be a leader and be insecure, Ptichka. He started staying out late and, eventually, not coming home at all. He abandoned his family, sometimes gone for months at a time. I became the man of the house. I took care my mother and Vladimira until our mother died, far too young. I began to hear rumors of illegitimate children. I confronted him about it. It was our last conversation. He said I’d never been a son to him and he didn’t even think he was my father. In that moment, it was clear why he hated me so much. He’d convinced himself my mother had an affair and I wasn’t his.
“He went so far as to tell me I wasn’t the rightful heir to the Bratva throne. I’d spent my life preparing to be the Pakhan; no one was going to take that away from me, not even my father. To protect myself I had a DNA test done. When the son of a bitch wouldn’t submit to it I kidnapped him and tied his ass to a chair. I tortured him to get what I wanted. I would need proof to do what was necessary to protect the Bratva legacy. I can still remember the night…
“You’re no fuckin’ son of mine. You’re a bastard and your mother’s a whore.”
“We’ll see about that, Daddy dearest. Open your fucking mouth.”
“Fuck. You.” His words slurred from too much vodka.
My blood boiled at what he was trying to do to me. Being Born Bratva was all I had. It was all I’d ever known and I couldn’t let him rob me of the only thing I loved.
I called out to Novak to bring me the blowtorch. He was the only man who had the courage to help me pull off what I was getting ready to do. To go against the Pakhan was certain death. And Novak was willing to die with me if necessary.
In true Novak style, he stood in front of my father turning the blow
torch on and off, waving the flame in his face just to torment him.
“You’re dead. You’re both fucking dead. I’m fuckin’ royalty,” he bellowed.
I grabbed the blowtorch. I went for the thing he loved most—his tattoos. I held it down against the ring tattoo on his finger—the meaning: Rely on no one. I burned it off. Next I went for the skull, crossbones, gun, and knife, which signified he was a killer. His screams were music to my ears but he wouldn’t allow me to get the sample. It wasn’t until he passed out from the pain that I opened his mouth for him and used a swab to get the proof I would need.
“Was he your father?”
“Yes. I knew he was. My mother never would have fucked around on him.”
“What happened then?”
“I took over. I stripped him of everything he had spent years building. I methodically took over the entire operation. I reveled in his suffering. I was paying him back for abandoning not only me but my mother. I was making him pay for telling me I wasn’t his son. Throwing me out to the wolves because he’d convinced himself I wasn’t his son.
“He put me in a dangerous place by forcing me out on my own. The only person who stood beside me was my cousin, Novak. We fought for our lives like wild animals in those beginning days. Now, my father could have gotten a DNA test himself, but he didn’t want to love me. He abandoned me emotionally for years and then physically. I felt no guilt for making him pay.
“Each man that had worked for him came to work for me. It had never been done before. No one had ever dared to even speak against a Pakhan, much less take over their organization. We did that. Novak and I did what no one had ever done. We took back what was rightfully mine. In turn, I made Novak my right-hand man. There’s nothing we wouldn’t do for each other.”
“Okay. Those are your past secrets. What are you hiding now?”
Silence, then, “The shooting…we believe it’s one of my father’s bastards trying to do what I did to my father—take over.”
“I didn’t know you had a brother.”
“I didn’t either, but I suspected. I heard rumors but I never paid attention.”
“Glazov…this is a nightmare. If that guy thinks he should be the Pakhan, he will do anything to take over. He’s already shown us what he’s capable of. We’ve got to find this guy and kill him.”
His eyes flared with heat at her words. He had never seen her like this – so decisive, so ruthless. “This isn’t like you, my little bird.”
“I’ll take down anyone who fucks with my family. You’re all I’ve got. Bratva is all I know now. I’ll be damned if I’m going to let some ghost from the past haunt me or my family. Think about it, Glazov; I’m the best partner to help you to help take this bastard down.”
“And why do you say that?”
“Just think, Glazov. Fear, adrenaline, and a healthy dose of marriage bonding, are better than any drug you can imagine. I know you better than anyone, I have your back like no one else. Let’s do it, you only live once, baby.”
“You only die once, too, Kathleen.”
“You know as well as I do that, if you’re not living life to the fullest, you’re already dead. Let’s get this fucker. No…let’s annihilate him. Together—you and me. Let’s go down in history not just being born Bratva, but fucking saving it from the flames. You want to leave a legacy? Then let’s do it together.”
“Come here, closer to me,” he said softly. she wrapped her body around his, their limbs tangled together. “You have been so much more than I deserve. You are the most fearless woman I have ever seen.”
“It isn’t that I’m not afraid, Glazov. But it’s the fear that pushes me forward.”
“You are a magnificent Bratva wife, the best any man could ever ask for. The first time I saw you on the security tape was like a lightning bolt. Now, back then I was not the man I am now; I thought it was the lust of a man for a woman. But my soul recognized what I did not, and it compelled me to move mountains to make you mine.”
He pressed her cheek to his chest and gave a long, satisfied exhale as he ran his hand up and down the length of her torso. When he finally spoke, his voice was barely a whisper. “I often think to myself that I couldn’t love you any more than I do and yet my love for you grows stronger, deeper, with each passing day. I would do anything for you. If you desire to kill with me, so be it. In fact, I look forward to it. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a closet sadist buried deep inside that heart of yours.”
He effortlessly lifted her up and over to straddle him. She tilted her head back as she eased down onto his cock, primed and ready to finish what they had started in the office. Her hands settled on his chest and she began to move, gasping as she stretched to accommodate his size. Even after bearing his children, she sometimes struggled to accept all of him inside her body, but the pleasure was worth every twinge of pain. Who’s a lucky girl?
He sank his fingers into the firm flesh of her hips. As her thrusts became more urgent, he jackhammered his hips to meet her rhythm. She was so damn sexy when she gave herself over to pleasure. His hand made its way down to the apex of her thighs and nestled there. Her swollen clit felt plush and firm as his fingertip slid in ever-smaller circles around it until finally pressing down and stroking the bundle of nerves.
Kathleen clenched her fingers, digging her nails into his massive chest. She thought she heard him hiss at the contact, even as the orgasm rolled through her and pulled her under.
Glazov’s body froze in place for a long moment as he seated his cock to the hilt and released his seed into her depths.
As lips roamed and hands stroked and soothed, it crossed Kathleen’s mind that this kind of passion was exactly how Bratva babies were made. Hmm. The thought brought a smile to her lips but was gone as fast as it had arrived. She collapsed onto his chest, her hair tumbling in scarlet waves over his arm. Smiling at the satisfied purr that rumbled from his chest, she fell asleep with Glazov still inside her.
Chapter Eleven
He had lost sight of her when she went into the adjoining room. But from his vantage point within a small thatch of trees just beyond the compound wall, his night vision binoculars were giving him a front row seat to yet another Alexander Glazov fuck-fest, this one in their marital bed. Even though he didn’t like watching her in the monster’s arms, the stranger would take anything he could get and was just glad to get a glimpse of her at all. It made him crazy when he had to go for days at a time without seeing her—crazier than he already was.
She didn’t belong with that monster. Glazov wasn’t the rightful heir to the Bratva throne. No, she belonged with him—the true Pakhan.
He was enthralled with the sight of her long, red hair swaying in seductive rhythm with her body. He made believe it was his cock she was riding, his chest she was clawing. He closed his eyes, giving in to yet another fantasy as he one-handed his cock from his pants and began stroking it. He cupped his balls, imagining she was sucking them into her mouth, rolling them around on her tongue. Pre-cum glistened on the hood of his shaft, so he slid his hand back up his length and caught the drop with his thumb. He spread the cream over his sensitive flesh, imagining her tongue swirling around the hood before sucking him down to the root.
He watched in fascination as his little bird writhed; wished he could hear her moans of pleasure; groaned as her womanly hips moved sensuously against her lover’s in an increasingly urgent, frantic rhythm; and seethed as Glazov manhandled the luscious breasts and ass that rightfully belonged to the stranger.
The muscles of the stranger’s neck and jaw clenched as he struggled to stave off the orgasm that threatened to undue him. We come together, always together.
At long last, she arched her back in climax, mindlessly clenching and kneading her own breasts as her auburn mane tumbled over her shoulders. He tightened his grip and allowed himself to give in, his pleasure peaking with hers, his seed spilling uselessly onto the ground as she collapsed on Glazov’s chest.
&nbs
p; He turned away briefly when Glazov wrapped his arms around her, biceps bulging has he pulled her against his chest, his legs tangling with hers as his hands roamed possessively over her curves.
The stranger waited impatiently for Glazov to take his hands off his little bird. He wanted to gaze at her nakedness and pretend that he was the one next to her. But they never moved. The stranger’s nostrils flared and he threw the binoculars to the ground. They had fallen asleep still connected, still…joined.
He seethed with jealousy as he clenched his fists. It was bad enough knowing that, even now, the monster’s spunk lingered inside her; he wanted that Bratva fraud’s dick out of her body, now.
His balls throbbed at the thought of taking Glazov’s most prized possession, his beloved Ptichka. The stranger looked forward to the day when she would gaze up at him hungrily, preferably while she deepthroated his dick. He would breed her over and over again; would make her bear his son.
If she wouldn’t come to him willingly, then he would do what was best, what needed to be done. That’s what great leaders did. No doubt, she would be angry at first when he caged her, might even try to fight him off when he took her. But he would show her; he would make her let him in so he could show her. And she would learn to love him. When his baby was growing in her belly, she would have to love him.
As for Glazov, the stranger already had plans to cut off the head of the monster and impale it on the tallest spike of the wrought iron gate at the entrance to the Bratva compound. That would send a clear message to the men under Glazov’s rule. It would earn their respect and make them fear him. As they should.
The stranger was a cause-and-effect kind of man. When he was crossed and pushed over the line, he retaliated. Well, he’d been pushed beyond all endurance and now it was time to set things right. After all, Glazov had stolen what was rightfully his, so it only made sense that he, at long last, should lay claim to the life and the woman that had always been meant for him.
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