Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) (6 page)

Kathleen

I eyed my timid employee and tried to push away thoughts of kicking her out of my house. I chose to work from home today, and she sat on the other side of my desk telling me how sorry she for drawing me into a mobster’s world. Part of me felt guilty about how much I was struggling to get past the stunt she’d pulled. To be honest, though, I grew up with addiction, and I’d already had my fill off it. I made a personal decision to never let people into my life who were going to bring that kind of baggage with them. If I had known about her gambling problem, I never would have hired her. None of this had come to light until the day I was blindsided with the debt she owed Glazov. On the outside, she looked like many addicts who have learned to hide their addictions—perfect. She had the perfect husband, kids, and home life. As knowledgeable as I was on the subject, I never saw any signs of her addiction until she dropped the bomb on me. It would have been much easier to leave her to her mistakes if I wasn’t emotionally attached, but now I was. I just couldn’t leave her at a gangster’s mercy, not that he had any.

“It amazes me, Robin, how you can boldly go into an underground poker game and borrow money from a known killer, yet you sit here in my office like a scared child awaiting correction. I swear, if I find out that you’re gambling again, you won’t have to worry about Alexander Glazov because I’ll kill you myself!”

Robin scurried away, making some excuse about needing to get home early. I knew she just didn’t want to tempt fate and was trying to get away from me. She, of all people, knew how serious a businesswoman I was, and she needed her job. Pissing me off further was not a smart thing to do right now.

I pushed myself away from my desk and decided it was time for a hot bath and a glass of Merlot. I made my way into the bathroom and peeled out of the jeans and t-shirt I had worn for the day.

I eyed myself critically in the mirror and ran my hands over the light bruises Glazov left on my breasts and inner thighs. I could feel the moisture begin to gather at my core, and whether I wanted to admit it or not, I knew the sex with Glazov was better than any I’d ever experienced before.

There had only been two serious boyfriends in my life, and neither of them knew a woman’s body like Glazov. Though he was rough at times, he could also be slow and methodically tender. It was as if he knew when to be hard and when to be soft, and the combination of the two had left me begging him for mercy.

I shook off the memories of the night before and grabbed my robe. After throwing it over my shoulders, I headed for the kitchen. A hot bath and a glass of wine would wash away the stress of the day and get me relaxed for a good night’s sleep.

I spent the rest of the evening unwinding before I climbed into bed. There was nothing I could do about my situation tonight. Tomorrow was a new day and would bring new possibilities. I’d sleep on things and see if any new opportunities to escape my blackmailer were miraculously revealed to me in the morning.

I also planned on spending some time researching Glazov’s lineage. Maybe if I could get some Intel on his father, I would understand the psyche of a man who’d been born into the Russian mafia. I did know enough to realize Bratva was as much a part of him as his DNA. I knew from what I already studied that these men groomed their sons from birth to take over the business. They raised their sons knowing they would someday pass down the legacy of Bratva to them. They were meticulous, driven, and calculating in their sons’ training. I just needed to know more about Glazov’s father in particular. Even if I had to sneak into his office and download documents, I was going to find out what I wanted to know. He wasn’t the only one who knew how to get Intel. I might not be trained like a member of his Bratva sect, but I was trained in the art of survival. I was also curious, and I’m the type of person that, once my curiosity is piqued, I’ll stop at nothing until I find out what I want to know. Right now, I wanted to know what made Alexander Glazov tick. I just hoped the knowledge wouldn’t be my undoing.

Glazov

My cock stiffened as I thought of my little Ptichka sleeping in her bed. I had spent my nights moving from woman to woman for years, always able to let go and move on to the next conquest with ease. This was the first time I could remember not being able to get a woman out of my head.

She plagued my thoughts to the point where I found myself sitting outside her home. I had a compulsive need to make sure the keys Yafon made for me would work. I pushed away the sudden anger that welled in my chest when I thought about the possibility of her having someone else in her bed. She damn sure better have enough sense not to be fucking anyone else. I resolved to make sure she was clear just how serious I was on the matter. She wasn’t accustomed to being around a man of my nature. I would show her mercy until she understood how underestimating me would be a grave mistake. If it were anyone else, I would just allow them to make their choices and then kill them if they chose poorly, but I didn’t want to have to kill her. I didn’t want to lose her.

I wanted to see if she had bruises. I was intentionally rough enough to mark her during our lovemaking sessions. She was mine now; she just didn’t know it yet. I grabbed the bag I packed to leave at her house and then directed Yafon to go home. I was not only marking her, I was also marking my territory by leaving some of my belongings in her home. Every time she opened her closet and saw pieces of my clothing, it would remind her of me. Taking her was as much a mental feat for me as it was physical. Much thought went into the things I subjected her to; everything I did had meaning when it concerned my Ptichka. I stood by her bedside to watch her sleep for a moment before I quietly made my way into the bathroom to see if she kept candles there.

Bingo, as the Americans say.

Next, I grabbed a couple of ice cubes from the freezer and put them in a glass. I lit the candle, set the ice down, and continued to watch the rise and fall of her chest as I disrobed.

I stroked my cock as I looked at her pouty little lips and thought about what they would feel like wrapped around my shaft. I couldn’t make up my mind if I wanted to grab her by a handful of her hair and force her mouth down on my cock, or if I wanted to spread her legs and run my tongue up and down her sweet, little, pink flower.

The fact that she slept nude made the decision easy, and I positioned myself between her legs to lap at her core. Her hips moved in sync even though she wasn’t fully awake yet. I lifted up my head and called for her. “Ptichka, my little bird, I’m always watching you, Ptichka.”

Her eyes shot open in fear, and I felt my cock jump. I tilted my head to the side and eyed her in the dimly lit room. “You better be glad you are here alone.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Tsk, tsk, you just don’t get it, do you?” I crawled up and straddled my large body over hers, pinning her arms down with my knees. “You’re property now—my property.”

I leaned over and grabbed the candle I had left burning on the nightstand. “I wouldn’t jump around if I were you; this wax is very hot.” I smirked to let her know I was being a smart ass. She was clueless to the intricacies of wax play, and I was anxious to educate her.

Her voice came out in a threatening manner, which amused me greatly.

“Don’t. Hurt. Me!”

I ran my tongue back and forth over the corner of my mouth while I studied her. “I don’t think you are in a position to tell me what I can and cannot do.” I tipped the candle over just enough to drip two wax drops onto one of her breasts. My cock twitched when she sucked in air through her teeth in response to the heat. Everything about this woman turned me on; she was a fighter just like me.

“How hot the wax is when it hits your delicate skin is determined by me. Do you know that, Ptichka? If I hold it close…” She cried out as the hot wax hit her abdomen. I continued, “It’s very hot. If I hold it further away…” She jumped in anticipation, but I could see her relief when she felt that it didn’t burn.

I leaned over to set the candle down and got the cup of ice. I dipped my fingers in and began to sprinkle drops of water over various parts of her body. I watched as goose bumps rose and her nipples hardened to stiff points.

“Your body responds to me very well. Do you enjoy the things I do to you?”

“No,” she snarled.

My laughter rang through the night air, and she never expected what happened next as my expression went from amused to sinister.

“Don’t. Talk. To. Me. Like. That!” I grabbed her chin and squeezed until I saw tears welling up in her eyes.

I shook my head as I snarled at her. “Your tears do
not
move me to mercy. All they do is turn me on. You have no idea how sadistic I am, but you will learn. It would be wise of you to not anger me. Do you understand what I’m telling you?”

She nodded her head as the tears continued to make slow trails down her cheeks. I reached down to wipe one away with the pad of my thumb and then placed it in my mouth to taste her fear. I never once broke eye contact with her.

“Touch me. Touch me like you touched me the other night, Glazov.” Her hands were gentle as she ran them over my cock. Everything about her intrigued me. I slapped her hand away to purposely confuse her. She needed to be kept on edge. I didn’t want her learning how to read me.

I started stroking my cock and sliding the head up and down her slit until she began to move her hips in time with my strokes. I would barely push my cock inside her and then pull it out to tease her. I watched for every little signal as she responded to what I was doing. Her legs had spread open a little bit more, her hips moved, her pupils were dilated, and her eyes began to beg, silently pleading for everything her pride kept her from saying.

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off me, Ptichka!”

She shook her head and bit her bottom lip. There was such earnestness about her. She radiated everything good and right—everything opposite of me.

I slid my cock up and down her slit and wiggled it in and out of her, making sure to rake it over her swollen clit every time I pulled out. “If you come without me granting permission, I’m going to be very displeased.” I shook my head for emphasis. “And you won’t like me displeased.”

“You’re going to make me come if you don’t stop.”

“I might do that just to purposely get you in trouble.”

“Glazov, please stop toying with me.”

“That’s never going to happen. You’re just too much fun to play with. While we’re on the subject of sex, you need to be ready for my driver at ten tomorrow morning. There will be a doctor at my home to test us for any STDs. When I fuck you, I want to feel every crevice and fold. The thought of that tight little pussy of yours contracting around my cock and milking me is making me crazy. I’m done talking, Ptichka. I want to taste you.”

I folded her legs back and placed my hands underneath the cheeks of her ass. I raised her up to my face as if she were a delicacy I was going to treat myself to and, in my mind, she was. She tasted delectable. I flattened my tongue and ran it over her opening in long, slow, agonizing licks. I looked up at her through hooded eyes when she groaned to see she had clenched her fists around the sheets. Once again, I brought her right to the edge and stopped.

I waited for her body to calm down and then started all over again, increasing her hunger for me.

Tears now poured down her cheeks as she begged me to let her come, but I wasn’t done. I pushed two fingers into her opening and alternated opening them like scissors and gently rubbing over her g-spot.

She screamed out, “I’ll do whatever you want!”

Bingo—the magic words. I’ll let her come now...