Burning for the Bratva: A Russian Mafia Romance Novel

by Maura Rose

  Kelly wasn’t just his wife—although she was in every sense of the term, thanks very much—she was his partner. She was an official lieutenant and basically the second in command, running things. Only Pavel was as close to Ivan in terms of business as she was.

  But then, he wasn’t sleeping with Pavel.

  The alliance had worked out well, too. They shared the docks with the O’Gills, the Murphys all but destroyed in the brief but fierce war, and the alliance had allowed him to gain the clout to work with other, larger families. And it avoided a monopoly, having a hand in the docks even if it was in name only and his men actually didn’t do anything with the day-to-day running of it, leaving that to Shane. He’d taken over shortly after the war, his father retiring although still alive. Ivan had come to rely on Sean even more than he’d expected, going to him for guidance. Pavel had been right—although Ivan wasn’t ever going to admit that to him. Having a mentor, someone to go to so that it wasn’t all up to him all the time, was actually giving him a better ability to make decisions on his own.

  “Everything’s going to be fine,” Kelly assured him. “You’re going to schmooze up to Boris, he’s going to think you’re a flattering young man who finally knows what it means to respect your elders. I’m going to flirt with Gabrielle because he is the definition of a stereotypical Italian who think with his dick and he’ll do whatever I suggest so long as he thinks I’ll blow him—”

  Ivan glared at her. “I still don’t like that idea.”

  “I’m not actually going to do anything,” Kelly promised him.

  He wrapped his arms around her anyway, brushing his mouth over her neck. Maybe if he gave her a hickey right… here…

  “No marks,” Kelly warned him.

  “You like them.”

  “Not when I’m about to go to a nice party I don’t.”

  “Mm, you sure?” Ivan flicked his tongue over the skin just underneath her jaw. “I distinctly remember someone—I’m pretty sure it was you, maybe I’ve got some other wife stashed somewhere—telling me that they loved it when I marked them up, begging me to bite them…”

  Kelly shivered, but then firmly pushed him back. “Later.”

  Ivan grinned at her. If he played his cards right, he could convince her to let him fuck her at the party. The Caparellis, according to rumor, had an amazing guest bathroom on the first floor.

  But for now he just settled for kissing her. “Whatever you say.”

  Kelly pulled back, giving him a suspicious look. “You’re plotting something.”

  “Wouldn’t you rather have me plotting something than nervous?”

  “So you admit you were nervous.”

  “I wasn’t nervous.”

  And maybe he was, just a little, but he had so much less of it now, so much less stress. He no longer felt like he was struggling in the shadow of a man who didn’t deserve to be casting any shadow at all. People were starting to talk about him, about Ivan, not about him merely in the context of being his father’s son. His family was stable, and he had a beautiful wife that adored him, that he adored in turn, even if they tended to show it in banter, in a way that most people didn’t understand.

  He knew that she loved him.

  They kept kissing, because Kelly might object to marks but she was always wonderfully eager when it came to sex in general, touching him all over. They were going to have to stop soon if they didn’t want to be late to the party but in a minute. Just one more minute.

  He’d thought that Viktor, that everyone who made such a fuss about love was ridiculous and probably exaggerating. Then he’d gone and fallen in love in about a week and was now stupidly in love with the same woman, so… he really didn’t have a whole lot of ground to stand on.

  “I have something that might make you a little less nervous.”

  “I’m not nervous.”

  “Sure you’re not.” Kelly smiled at him, then took his hand, bringing it around to her front and slowly moving it until it rested against her stomach. She flattened his palm against it, placing her hand over his.

  He looked at their hands for a moment, uncomprehending. What…?

  Then he got it. He looked up, saw Kelly smiling, glowing with how happy she looked. “Let’s just say you’re going to get to name an official heir soon.”

  Ivan picked her up before he even realized what he was doing, spinning her around and setting her back down on the ground only to kiss the breath right out of her. “What? When, how did you—when did you know—”

  “This morning,” she said. “I suspected for a few days, but I waited a little bit and then checked this morning.”

  He kissed her again. He wanted to flip his father’s ghost off, just a little bit, just enough to say, hey, despite setting me up for disaster, I made it. I took a sinking ship and I sailed it into the harbor and now I have a wife and a child and I will be a far, far better husband and father than you ever were. My child will never turn on me the way yours did.

  Something settled in his chest, something deeper than mere confidence, something that he knew wouldn’t dislodge itself no matter what nerves or passing worries might come.

  “I love you,” Kelly whispered into his mouth. She still so rarely said it first, still got scared, but she was doing better, she was learning, the softer edges of her coming out and balancing out the rougher, harsher edges. It was a slow transformation but a beautiful one and he loved being the one who got to see it up close and personal.

  “I love you,” he replied, talking about her, about his child, about his life, about everything.

  The End

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Maura Rose is a long-time lover of the written word with a penchant for cooking (and eating) copious quantities of Eastern European food. When she isn’t busy wrangling her two adorable children or spending time with her patient and eternally supportive husband, she can be found cruising the back country roads of the California county she calls home with the music cranked up to full blast and singing along at the top of her lungs. It is during these moments of solitude that she dreams up most of the plots of her spicy romance novels.

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  Want to send fan mail? Hate mail? Suggested recipes for pierogis? Email the author here: author@maurarose.com

  If you liked reading BURNING FOR THE BRATVA, check out these other books by Maura Rose:

  CRAVING MY COSTAR

  OFFSIDES LOVE

  BILLIONAIRE'S BOND

  BEHOLDEN TO THE BRATVA

  BILLIONAIRE'S BOND

  By Maura Rose

  Warning: This title contains graphic language, sex and steamy, star-crossed romance!

  Excerpt from BILLIONAIRE'S BOND:

  They pulled into a parking spot on the street outside of her apartment. Heather got her seatbelt off as quickly as possible but she still wasn’t as fast as Dan, who lit out of the car like it was on fire before walking around to the other side to get Heather’s door open. He reached a hand down and she took it, letting him haul her up and then close the door behind her a second before pushing her back into it, pinning her to the car with his hips. There was no hiding the erection she could feel pressing against her through the denim of Dan’s own jeans, nor was there any hiding the dark, thrilling look of lust in his eyes as he gazed down into her face.

  “You are going to be the death of me,” he warned, his hands coming up on either side of her to brace himself on the car’s roof.

  “Turnabout is fair play,” Heather replied, her breath catching in her throat and her voice coming out breathy and unsure.

  Dan slowly put more of his weight on her, trapping her against the car so that he could brush his lips slowly up the column of her neck and the line of her jaw. “You better be ready to deliver on that promise.”
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  “I believe I was saying all the things that you were going to do to me,” Heather replied, “So if anyone has promises they need to fulfill…”

  Dan growled and kissed her as deeply as he could, his tongue sliding against hers in a filthy, sexual slide that had her moaning into his mouth. “Keys,” Dan muttered, one of his hands coming around to grip her ass and haul her up onto his thigh.

  Heather was a little busy pressing up against Dan’s muscular leg, so she didn’t understand what he was saying at first. Then he groaned and said it again. “Keys. Heather, your keys, to get into the apartment.”

  “Oh, right, right.” Heather pushed Dan off so that she could grab her purse and rifle through it for her keys. She’d brought a small purse, and it had only three things in it: her phone, her wallet, and her keys. And yet, somehow, it took her an inordinate amount of time to find said keys.

  “Ah-ha!” She held them up triumphantly, wiggling them in the air.

  “Perfect.” Dan grabbed her gently by the wrist and guided her up the steps to her apartment, as if he lived there and she didn’t.

  Heather used her keys to let them into the door, giggling as Dan pressed up against her from behind and started kissing her neck. “We’re not even in yet, hold on!”

  “You’re the one who said you were impatient,” Dan pointed out, obediently following her down the hallway to the elevator. Usually Heather took the stairs to try and get in some exercise but right now she wanted a convenient wall to press Dan up against.

  The moment the elevator doors closed behind them he was on her and she was the one up against the wall, one of Dan’s hands coming up behind her head to cushion it and keep her from banging it on the hard marble. He kept kissing her and kissing her, until Heather’s entire world spiraled down into the narrowness of just the two of them. The feel of his body against hers, the sheer weight of him, and the hot, slick feeling of his lips and tongue were driving her insane. She couldn’t even remember if they’d pressed the button for her floor. Was the elevator even moving? She didn’t know and she kind of didn’t care.

  Dan’s hands slid underneath her shirt at her back and her stomach, his fingers gliding over the skin as if seeking to map her out. “god, you’re so beautiful,” he admitted in a rush, as if it was a secret. “You’re gorgeous like this, you’re gorgeous always.”

  Heather kissed him again to shut him up. Her heart was soaring at his words, wanting to drink them in, but her stomach was clenching in shame and she wanted to swallow his words down, muffle them until they were silenced and she didn’t have to think about it anymore. Instead she focused on the way his tongue felt stroking hers, his fingers digging roughly into her skin, and the feelsgoodalmosttoomuch sensation as she hooked a leg around his and ground up against him.

  Dan pulled back to nose at the skin behind her ear, and that was when Heather saw that the elevator doors were open. They’d reached her floor.

  “Dan,” she warned. Dan just made a humming sound and Heather pushed at him so that she’d have room, then grabbed two handfuls of his shirt and started dragging him out of the elevator. “The elevator stopped.”

  “I mean, we don’t have to go to your place,” he pointed out. “I’m okay with the elevator, really. We can just hit the emergency stop button.”

  “And then we get interrupted when the fire department arrives,” Heather replied dryly, yanking on his hand. “I don’t think so. C’mon.”

  Dan grinned at her, letting her pull him down the hallway to her apartment. Heather tried to get the key into the lock, which was a little difficult when Dan kept crowding her up against the door, kissing the back of her neck and sliding his hands back underneath her shirt to slide up just shy of her breasts.

  “Not helping,” Heather said, her hands shaking as she finally managed to shove the key into the lock.

  “I’d say that I feel terrible, but I’d be lying.”

  Heather turned around and let him pin her up against the door, kissing him slowly, then hooking her leg around his at an angle to neatly turn him so that he was the one against the door. Dan made a groan of appreciation, his hands sliding over her ass and squeezing gently, and then Heather found the door handle and promptly opened it, sending Dan reeling backwards and almost tumbling to the ground.

  “Okay that,” he panted, pointing an accusing finger at her but smiling all the same, “Was a dirty trick.”

  “Oh no, he’ll never sleep with me now,” Heather said in a completely flat, deadpan voice.

  Dan laughed and grabbed her hands, reeling her back into him, and Heather kicked the door closed behind them. “What the hell am I going to do with you, you little spitfire?”

  “Fuck me?” Heather said brightly, smiling.

  The humor went out of Dan’s face and he growled, his hands coming up under her thighs to lift her up. Heather gave an involuntary shriek, completely startled, her arms and legs wrapping around him out of pure instinct because holy shit Dan could pick her up and carry her like she was made of nothing. Something. Something lightweight. She couldn’t really be expected to think up good metaphors at a time like this.

  Heather had to give him directions to the bedroom, laughing as Dan tried to kiss her and carry her and stumble to the bedroom all at the same time. She peppered kisses all over his face, raking her fingers through his hair, laughing into his mouth until he finally dropped her onto her bed, so hard that she bounced a little.

  “You’re an awful person,” Dan informed her, pulling his shirt up and off, “Laughing at me like that.”

  “I’m an awful person in many ways,” Heather said, ignoring the pang in her chest at that. “That’s really the thing that tipped you off?”

  “You’re lucky I like you,” Dan replied, crawling up the bed between her spread legs. He put his hands on her thighs and spread them wider, making fresh heat run through Heather’s body. She was so turned on from this, his hands on her legs, his dark eyes gleaming, a teasing smile on his face. “Let’s get this stuff off of you, hmm?”

  Heather nodded, eager to comply, shucking off her shirt and letting Dan help her get her pants and the rest off. She ran her hands over his chest, feeling the skin jump and twitch underneath her, and then grabbed at his belt loops. “Off,” she chanted. “Off, off, off.”

  “Bossy,” Dan teased, getting his pants off himself when Heather’s hands started shaking too much, and oh, god, Heather needed her mouth on his dick this very instant.

  She considered the merits of grabbing Dan and flipping him over—growing up with a boy for her best friends and numerous cousins had meant she turned out to be a bit of a pro at wrestling—but then thought that might lead to accidental flailing and injury, so she licked her lips pointedly, then looked up at him through her lashes.

  “Can I blow you?” she asked.

  Heather had never seen someone have a heart attack, but she was pretty sure that Dan’s expression right now was the same expression that they’d have on their face if she did. “I, uh.” He flushed red. “Yeah, yes, I mean, please.”

  Heather laughed, helping him flip so that she was straddling him. She liked that she could throw him off balance like this, reduce him to stuttering and pure want. She gave him a wink, and then slid her mouth over the head of his dick. He wasn’t the biggest she’d had but honestly, thank god for that, and he was nice and thick which was what she preferred. She hummed around him, dragging her tongue up the underside, then tonguing his slit. Dan swore, and she encouragingly put one of his hands in her hair so he could hold on. He tugged a little and she moaned around him, taking him in as deep as she could, encouraging him to tug at her hair again. Someday she’d take her time and figure out all the little ticks and quirks of him, the things that made him thrust up into her mouth and the things that made him shudder, but right now she was feeling a bit too impatient for that. So she just set a slow but deep pace, taking him in as far as possible and then pulling off until only the tip was inside her mouth and she could s
uck on it, swirl her tongue around, and then go back all the way down again. Dan kept swearing above her, tugging at her hair every time she did that thing with her tongue. Once she could feel his hips starting to twitch with more force, she pulled off completely, smiling up at him as she licked her lips to catch the last of the salty tang of his precum.

  “You look like…” Dan’s voice seemed to catch in his throat, his pupils blown wide and his face flushed. “You look like sin, get up here.”

  Heather obliged him, crawling up his body so that he could kiss her and lick the taste of him from her mouth, his hands sliding down her back to her ass so that he could guide her into grinding against him. She wanted him inside of her, rocking into her… she reached up, blind, trying to find the lube she kept in her bedside drawer. “Condoms?” Dan asked. “I brought a couple in my wallet, if you don’t have any.”

  Heather helpfully held up the condom she also kept in her bedside drawer, one of several she’d bought that morning. Dan grinned at her wickedly, and then she was definitely flailing and almost hitting Dan with her elbow as she suppressed her instinct to fight back when he flipped her, ending up between her legs again. Dan nosed at the inside of her thigh, scraping her teeth along the sensitive skin there, and Heather moaned.

  “I’m going to have fun with this,” Dan promised her, his voice low and making her shiver. He kissed his way up her thighs, then started to lick around and through her folds. Heather arched up, her body responding to the teasing touch of his tongue. He was purposefully avoiding her clit, swirling his tongue around and lapping into her but not putting it where she wanted it, needed it, most, driving her crazy until she was grabbing at his hair and shoulders, arching her hips to try and get him to go where she wanted.