Sergei: Russian Mafia Romance (Red Bratva Billionaires Book 2)

by Coco Miller

  My hands tremble as I lift my fork to my lips. “No,” I lie, before I take a bite. Again, I am moaning after I swallow. What the hell did they put in this food?

  Sergei drops his fork, watching me ever so closely. “You keep moaning like that and this dinner will be over very soon.”

  I don’t know exactly what he means by those words, but I can only imagine the worst, so I make sure to keep myself in check.

  We eat in silence as soft classical music plays in the background. When dinner is over, I rise from my seat to head to my room. As soon as my foot lands on the first step, I feel his calloused hand on the small of my back.

  “I want to show you something.”

  He holds out his hand, leading me down the long corridor of his mansion. I am nervous, biting my lower lip, wondering just what Sergei has in store for me. What kind of game is he playing with me while I’m here? Will he hurt me? Will he try to force me to have sex with him? Should I tell him that I’m a virgin? Will that make him reconsider? These thoughts keep cycling through my mind, unable to break free.

  Yet even with all the hesitation I feel, I still follow behind Sergei, feeling like I am walking to my own personal guillotine.

  I’m a total wimp.

  Why can’t I stand up to this guy?

  Chapter Four

  Sergei leads me out the back door of his mansion, never removing his hand from my lower back. Walking just as slowly as me. He doesn’t seem to mind, and I suck in a deep breath, hoping more than anything what he has to show me won’t hurt.

  Before he opens the door he stops and looks at me.

  “Why are you skittish?”

  “I’m not skittish.”

  “You’re acting like I’m rapist.”

  “You’re acting like I’m A rapist,” I correct him. I can’t help it. It’s the English nerd in me.

  “Kak?”

  I think he’s asking me to repeat myself.

  “I was correcting your English.”

  He chuckles.

  “Whatever right words are, you know what I mean.”

  “I don’t think you’re a rapist. It’s just the situation. A man I don’t know is taking me somewhere I don’t know, so it’s only right for me to be a little hesitant about it.”

  “Come,” he demands.

  As soon as I step through the door to the outside, lights flicker on. The sight before my eyes is like something out of a fairy tale. I can’t believe it. As if this house couldn’t be any more beautiful– it is.

  White, dazzling lights hang in garlands high in the treetops. A beautiful garden lay before us with intricate paved walkways.

  “Wow,” I say as he drops his hand.

  “This is my garden. You asked what I like to do, well this is it.”

  “You’re a gardener?” My eyes enlarge, and he laughs at my naivety.

  “No, I’m not gardener, but I do enjoy spending time here.”

  “Doing what?”

  We walk side-by-side further down the path, stopping at a small table with wrought-iron chairs.

  “Sit,” he instructs, pulling out a chair for me.

  “So, what do you do out here?” I ask after he sits in the seat across from me.

  “Mainly, I conduct my business out here. During night, it’s prekrasnyy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Beautiful...like you.”

  I clear my throat.

  “So what is it that you do, Sergei?” I ask as if I didn’t know. I know exactly what he does, but I’m curious to see how he will answer.

  “I run business.”

  “What kind of business?” I’m not letting him off the hook.

  “Family business.”

  “Why did you hire my father if it’s a family run thing?”

  “I took chance with outsider. He had good reputation for minding his own business. The daughter not so much,” he says with a serious look. I decide it’s best to drop this line of questioning for the moment.

  He waves his hand in the air. “It’s your turn for question now.”

  “Okay.”

  “What do you like to do besides read?”

  I don’t want to let him in on anything truly personal. Even though he is sexy as hell, and might not be exactly the monster that I thought he was, it’s best I don’t forget that he is still holding me here against my will. Friends is not something we will become. Ever. I’m just making the best out of a bad situation.

  “Oh, you know, a little of this and a little of that,” I answer. His eyebrow arches up, and a smirk blesses his hot as sin face.

  He studies me as I sit gazing at all of the varying colored rose bushes. “Close your eyes.”

  I do as he requests, and then I hear him stand from his seat. His footsteps fade into the night and then come louder as he approaches. He stands behind me, his breathing loud against the night air.

  “The great thing about roses are their soft petals.”

  I feel the velvet touch of a rose caress the top of my shoulder. His hand brushes through my wild tresses, sweeping some of my strands off of my skin. He continues running the rose along me as his voice lowers.

  “It can make woman feel sexy when the petals touch all over.”

  Goosebumps raise along my arm and the back of my neck as he continues the path of the rose. He lowers his head, and his mouth is inches from my ear.

  “Do you feel sexy, kotenok?”

  I nod my head yes unconsciously. Entranced by his words. Mesmerized by the accent. The petals of the rose brushing along my skin feel amazing, and I don’t want him to stop.

  “But, they can also bite too.”

  He pricks my skin with a thorn from the stem, and my body reacts with a jump. My eyes spring open in disbelief as his hands rub over the sharp pain.

  “Ow!” I exclaim.

  He continues trailing the soft petals along my skin, running it over the spot where he pricked me.

  “Ah, but a little pain makes the rose that much more enjoyable. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Again, I am entranced and can’t coherently answer. I nod my head, and he sucks in a deep breath.

  “You like mixing pleasure and pain, da?”

  I turn my head so our eyes meet. His are dark. Darker than I’ve ever seen before.

  “I…um…what do you mean?”

  “Sex, Kai. I mean sex.”

  “Oh, I’ve only been with one guy before. Someone from college, so I don’t really know about that.”

  Sergei raises an eyebrow.

  “I can smell lie.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you virgin, Kai?”

  He remains behind me with the rose in his hand. It no longer touches my skin, but I want it to. I want him to.

  “No, I told you, I’ve been with one person before.”

  He closes his eyes, leaning his neck to the side until it cracks. “You’ll be the death of me, kotenok.”

  Oh God, he doesn’t believe me.

  “Mr. Isanov…” I begin, in an effort to swerve the topic toward another direction. I don’t need him dwelling on whether or not I’m a virgin, because I am not having sex with this man.

  “Sergei, call me Sergei.”

  “Right. Sergei, what happens if my father doesn’t pay?”

  “Then you become mine. I came to collect debt from your father. If he can’t pay, you will be his payment.”

  “I will be payment? What does that mean?”

  “You belong to me.”

  “That’s illegal! You can’t just keep me.”

  He lets out a sinister laugh and then stops suddenly.

  “Do you think I give a fuck what’s legal? What’s not legal?”

  His voice just turned icy, and now I am afraid. He’s one thing and then he’s another. One second he’s trying to seduce me. The next he is trying to frighten me.

  When he stands, I can’t help but marvel at how his muscles strain against the fabric
of his button-down shirt.

  He moves over to a bush with a blueish flower and plucks it.

  “Do you know what this flower is?” he asks as he sits back down.

  I glance at it and shake my head. I don’t know much about horticulture.

  “It’s called a Clitoria, named for its resemblance to a certain female anatomy part.”

  I stare at the flower and notice that it does look just like a vagina. My cheeks heat, and I turn away.

  “See, this part here,” he touches the flower bud, “this looks like woman’s clitoris.”

  My cheeks grow hotter as I watch him stroke the flower. It was sexual, and I try to stare at anything but him.

  He pulls at the long nub of the flower, rubbing it between his fingers. Our eyes meet, and I cross my legs to ease the ache between them.

  “This part of the flower appears like the lips of pussy.”

  His middle finger runs along the slit of the flower while his thumb continues to rub the small petal near the top.

  He licks his lips as he continues to play the flower like I imagine he could do to me. I push my thighs closer together, trying to ease the tension he is causing deep within my core.

  He brings the flower to his nose and takes a long sniff. “It smells so sweet. Would you like to smell it, Kai?”

  “Ok,” I utter like an idiot, completely under his spell.

  He smiles and hands me the flower. I bring it to my nose, and as I inhale the sweet scent, he growls a deep, low groan. My panties quickly dampen, and I want him to touch me like he did the flower.

  I hand the flower back to him. His eyes never leaving mine as he brings the flower to his nose once more. Taking a long pull from it, he smiles as he nuzzles his nose even deeper inside of it.

  My mouth falls open, unable to form words.

  “It’s late. Go to bed,” he says, dropping the flower on the table behind me.

  I rush up the stairs, running to the room I stay in while I spend my days here. I hate what just happened. I hate the way he makes me feel. The way his words turn me on.

  What is happening to me?

  I don’t know how to control these emerging urges I am beginning to have. Like a tiny butterfly, fluttering the wings of possibility into the night air, I think about running. Running as far away from this house as I can. I don’t want to break any rules, or endanger anyone, but I need to get out of here. Away from him. Before I allow him to do something that can never be taken back.

  Yet, I know if I try to escape that he will go after my family. I know it. I can tell under the smooth facade, the broken English, the pretending like he cares about what my interests are– Sergei Isanov is ruthless as hell. He is definitely the beast in this ass backwards fairytale.

  So I forget about escape for the time being, and go quietly to my room. Hoping that sleep will fix the hunger and the need that is beginning to consume me.

  Chapter Five

  Lying in bed, sleep won’t come to me no matter how hard I try. Sergei’s words play over and over in my head. If my father doesn’t pay his debt, I will be his.

  I toss and turn thinking about the flower and the way he touched it between his fingers. The way he gently caressed it and nuzzled it. I finally fall asleep with these same visions playing in my head.

  Suddenly in the middle of the night, I awake. My body is on fire with lust for Sergei, and I try my hardest to erase the thoughts of the way he stared at me. The way I imagine he would touch me.

  The junction between my thighs yearn for attention, and I press my fingers against my clit as I think of him. Touching me. Kissing me. Just anything to me.

  I moan softly. Dipping my hand beneath the waistband of my panties, I slide a finger inside myself. I rock into my hand, moaning a little louder this time. What would his fingers feel like inside me? Would he mix pleasure and pain? What would that feel like?

  The thought has my fingers racing along my wet skin as I bring myself closer to orgasm. My hips buck, rocking into my hand faster, and my moans grow louder. I try to quiet down, but it feels too good imagining Sergei’s hands on me.

  “Sergei.” His name leaves my lips in a whisper. Almost as if it’s a secret between me, myself, and I that I’m getting off on thoughts of him.

  My orgasm shoots through me like a freight train, all flashing lights and high speeds. So powerfully that my back bows off of the bed.

  As soon as my body stills, and the after effects begin to fade, a noise emits from the corner of my room. My eyes grew wide, and I immediately sit up. In the soft, dim light, my eyes meet powerful dark ones. Sergei’s haunting eyes.

  He was in my room.

  Saw what I did.

  And now I’m incredibly mortified.

  “Get out!” I shout to his shadowy figure in the darkened recesses of my room, but he doesn’t move. He just stands there watching me. Then finally after a solid minute, he moves toward me. Calculated and controlled as if he owns the room, which he does, but it almost feels like he owns me as well.

  “Kai,” he speaks softly.

  I pull the covers higher to my chin as he comes even closer. I don’t want to answer. I can’t read the look on his face, and honestly I’m embarrassed.

  “Kai.” He addresses me firmly this time.

  “Yes,” I finally say after another minute of silence.

  He growls and cracks his neck to the left before speaking in his thick, sexy, Russian accent.

  “I can do better.”

  “Do what better?”

  “Give you orgasm.”

  I almost choke on my own saliva.

  “Instead of whispering my name, I’d make you come so hard that you’d be screaming it.”

  Wetness quickly gushes between my legs. Even though I’d just had an orgasm, I am so ready to have another.

  Sergei is unlike any high school or college guy who tried to get with me. His confidence is daunting and downright scary. It’s definitely real, not for show. I don’t know how to respond to what he’s just said. What does he expect me to say to something like that?

  “I smell your sweet piz`da.” He moves closer so that he is within reaching distance. “Your cunt. It wants me, da?”

  I am battling between remaining stock still under the covers and wanting to touch him. I have only been able to fantasize about feeling his hard body beneath my fingertips these past few nights, but now he’s right in front of me. Thankfully, I show some self control and keep gripping the sheet instead. It acts as my imaginary force field.

  He exhales a slow, measured breath, then raises his hand and caresses my cheek.

  “Think about it, kotenok.”

  I shiver from his touch but hold steadfast to my convictions. There’s no way I’m going to give my virginity to my captor. Nope. Not happening.

  “Get out,” I manage to say.

  Finally the seduction is over, and he leaves the room. I blow out a sigh of relief as I wonder to myself, just how many more nights of this can I put up with?

  Chapter Six

  For the next few days, Sergei keeps his distance from me, and I spend most of my time in the garden, reading.

  Sometimes he and a few of his Russian cronies leave the house for a few hours, but for the most part he spends most of his time in his home office with the doors closed or in his personal gym.

  Dinner is always tense. He speaks to me as if my father will never pay the money; as if he already owns me. In some ways, I think he already does. I think about him every single night when I lie in bed. It’s actually quite annoying.

  It’s been almost a week and my mind plays over the fact that my father still has not rescued me. Why does he owe Sergei money anyway? How much does he owe? Did he misplace it? Did he steal it? Did he borrow it? Is he ever going to pay it back? Is he losing any sleep not knowing what’s happening to me here?

  I am sitting in the library alone, reading, when Sergei walks in. His debonair attitude weighs heavily on his stance as he stares at me. I
guess he’s finally ready to be in my presence again. What a tempermental a-hole.

  “Has my father contacted you yet?”

  He crosses his arms, his eyebrow arching over his devilish eyes.

  “Nyet.” No.

  “How much money does he owe you?”

  “A fucking lot.”

  “More than the cost of a Mercedes or an Audi?”

  “Da.” Yes.

  “Oh,” I say, sinking back into the comfy high-backed armchair. That is a lot of money.

  “You could always work off his debt, Kai.”

  Now he wanted me to play the part of Cinderella and clean his already impeccably clean house?

  “How? Like with chores and stuff? You’ve got a housekeeper for that.”

  “I definitely have chores that only you could do, Kai.”

  He moves closer. With every step in my direction, my insides burn. There is no doubt that everything about Sergei is sexy. The way he talks, smells, walks. Hell the way he breathes is even sexy.

  My brain scrambles as he inches closer. His signature smell wafts over me, and I breathe it in as if it is my only oxygen. It is very masculine, a scent to to drive all women crazy. He should bottle it up and sell it.

  As my mind continues on its crazy tangent, I realize he is practically standing over me.

  “Do you want to pay off your otet’s debt?”

  I need to get out of here.

  “Yes.”