Volkov Bratva 2
The second book to the Volkov Bratva Series is now available Wide
Blurb:
I was never supposed to marry Andrei Belov. He was meant to marry my beautiful sister. But she did something very wrong to have the man in charge of the Volkov Bratva change his mind.
Now I’m married to a man many call a monster. He ignores me. I mean nothing to him.
I’m trapped and alone in a loveless marriage. My parents don’t care. They have what they want. Andrei doesn’t like it when I have friends. He doesn’t like it when others take care of me. He claims not to have slept with my sister, but Bethany is still around to cause me trouble, to make me doubt.
It all starts with a kiss to get what I want. If I kiss him, I’ll get a reward, but soon the game changes.
I’m Andrei Belov’s wife. In this world, no one is safe, especially not me. I didn’t know it, but I have an enemy, one that wants me dead no matter the cost. I wasn’t supposed to marry into this family, but now, there is no way out.
Excerpt:
“What the hell did you do?” I asked.
She stood up, pushing her long brown hair out of the way. I loved her hair. She never had it cut. The length was glorious, and I couldn’t wait to have it wrapped around my fist.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I … I need to get out of this apartment.”
“You’re not leaving this place.”
“Are you trying to kill me, is that it? You hate me so much that you want me to do the deed myself or something?” Her hands were clenched into fists.
This I wasn’t expecting.
“You’re not going to die.”
“Seriously? Can’t you see I’m dying already? Do you have any idea what it’s like to spend every single day here, doing nothing?” She yelled each word at me. “Before you I had a life. To many, it would have been boring, but I had a life. I enjoyed leaving and being free, but I can’t even have that anymore. Your boss, or whatever the fuck he is, was here, and you know what, I was scared, because I don’t know this way of life. I know you’re part of the Bratva, but I don’t even know if I’m supposed to say that. I didn’t grow up in this life. Ugh, what is the point? You should have married my sister. I’m pretty sure you would have been far happier with her.”
“Are you done?” I asked.
“Why? Bored of being in this place already. Trust me. I know I am.” She threw the cloth at me. “And I don’t care if you’re pissed off that I damaged your precious wood. What kind of an asshole lives this high up?”
I’m stunned by her language, by her aggression, and most of all by just how aroused I am. I take a step toward her, then another. With her fear in place of the heights, she doesn’t move, the line keeping her in place.
Sinking my fingers into her hair, I tug her close, not to hurt, but to guide. She gasped. Her hands went to my wrist. Her touch shouldn’t do anything for me. I shouldn’t enjoy it. There should be no happiness at having her hands on me.
When it comes to the opposite sex, I’m the one who’s always in control. They do my bidding. They are not permitted to touch me. But Adelaide is my wife. She is not like other women.
“If you want to play the victim, carry on, but I’ve told you exactly what you need to do in order to earn rewards.”
“Are you being serious right now? You expect me to kiss you to get out of this place? To have a cell phone? To even go shopping?” she asked.
I smiled. It wasn’t a nice one, and she flinched away from me as I did so, but with the hold I had on her hair, there was nowhere for her to go. She was stuck with me.
Holding her close against me, I relished the feel of her curves. They were so soft and so close. She smelled good as well, like strawberries and cream. My mouth watered for a taste.
“Do you think kissing me is so distasteful? Do you have any idea what I could have ordered you to do?” I asked. “I could make you go on your knees, take my dick between those fuckable lips, and choke on it. Force you to swallow every single drop of my spunk. Or I could have pounded your virgin pussy. Forced you to bleed over my dick for your first time. What about your asshole?” I grabbed her ass, pulling her toward me. “If your pussy and mouth haven’t seen a cock, then I bet your ass hasn’t either. Forcing you to take me there, just so you could breathe fresh air. So, the next time you think I’m a monster, why don’t you compare my request to the other things I could have forced you to do?”
“I hate you.”
“Get in line. There’s a long list of women who hate me.”
This time, she fought against me. I could make her accept me. Kiss her. Make her give me my due. My dick hadn’t seen a pussy in a long time, and I was well past due emptying my balls. With Adelaide, I didn’t even need to use a condom. She was supposed to be getting pregnant with my kid, but that wasn’t going to happen until I fucked her.
I let her leave and run away toward our bedroom. I’d give her a few minutes to gain her bearings, and then I’d seek her out. Annoying the fuck out of her was part of my plan. Hurting and raping her was not. Nor was terrifying her.
Some men couldn’t handle facing off with me. Adelaide was just a woman. I should have gone easier on her.
I moved toward my office, removed my jacket, and threw it across the chair. The scotch called to me. I made my way over to the drink, poured myself a generous shot, and drank it straight down, enjoying the burn.
A memory of my father flashed through my mind. I couldn’t have been much older than six or seven. My mother had asked me to go and grab the photograph album she’d left in his office. I had been a klutz back then, and as I lifted the heavy book, I knocked his bottle of vodka off the table. The glass had smashed. He’d entered as I tried to clean it up, and as punishment, he’d grabbed the glass and slashed me right across the arm, three times. I was bleeding, he’d punched me in the gut, and tossed me out into the cold. Three days later, the doctor had come to fix me up. I’d nearly died of infection.
Pushing the memory to the back of my mind, I put the glass down and made my way toward the bedroom.
Adelaide wasn’t there. I heard the sound of the shower running, and I walked toward the door. Her clothes were on the floor, and I saw the outline of her body in the frosted glass. My dick hardened. She was my wife. Mine.
After removing my clothes, I eased them onto the floor and stepped toward the shower. Opening the door to the stall, I stepped inside and heard her gasp.
She wrapped her arms around her body and turned her back to me, but I was a man who liked a woman’s ass, and the one she presented me with was sheer fucking perfection. Rounded, juicy, almost a little too big, but a generous handful.
I closed the door, moved in closer, and she stepped forward to try and keep some distance from me. There was nowhere for her to go. Reaching past her so that our bodies touched, I grabbed the soap.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Taking a shower.”
“I can’t even have one of those alone anymore?”
I smiled, lathering up my hands with soap. “Tell me, Adelaide, do you want to live?”
“What kind of question is that?” she asked.
“A real one.”
“Of course I want to live. Who wouldn’t?”
Putting my hands on her hips, I pulled her back against me. She was so damn tense. “Then I will start to teach you tomorrow morning,” I said. There wasn’t much to teach, not really. Ivan liked to consider this new era of Bratva to be modern, thinking outside of the box, and making sure our enemies didn’t have a fucking clue what to do.
Adelaide was too adorable to show disrespect, and I could imagine Ivan would find her cute as well. He wasn’t a stickler for tradition unless he faced someone he hated, and then he made sure tradition was served.
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