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Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 11) Page 11
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“Eat,” she gently urges.
Looking down I’m surprised to see food in front of me. Turning my head to face her, I give her a small smile. She shakes her head as if she cannot believe me, but doesn’t verbalize anything. I’m glad for it. I don’t know how to act, what to do, or anything.
“I would like to clean the bedroom and bathroom today. Can you point me to the supplies?” I chance asking after I’ve finished my breakfast.
Panya nods, and I notice a small smile tugs at her lips. “Mr. Sergei would like that I’m sure,” she points out.
My face heats and I know my cheeks have turned red from her acknowledgment of what Sergei would like from me. Inside I am aware that she knows about our relationship, she’s seen me naked more times than dressed, but there is still something very private about me and Sergei. At least, to me it is. He probably doesn’t feel the same, however, after last night I feel like maybe our relationship has shifted.
Taking the cleaning supplies, I hurry back toward our bedroom. I spend the day cleaning. The room is already spotless when I begin, but I don’t care. It keeps me busy and by the time I strip the bed, wash the sheets, and remake the bed, it’s already growing dark outside.
Once everything is finished, I tighten the belt on my robe and take a step back. Looking around, I inhale deeply smelling the familiar chemical clean smell that surrounds me. I think about taking the robe off, tightening and loosening the belt. Sergei made kind of a big deal about me being clothed here, but I’m more comfortable naked.
“You’re thinking hard over there,” Sergei’s voice rings out behind me.
Spinning around, my gaze connects with his. “I was trying to decide if I should leave this on or take it off,” I truthfully admit.
He lifts a brow as he regards me. I wait for him to speak, to give me instructions but he doesn’t. He stays quiet for far too long, then he finally speaks. “I have a meeting tonight. I was going to deliver the message to Panya, but…” His words trail off and he nods.
I don’t speak, I wait. It’s what I’m best at anyway, waiting for instruction. Sergei walks farther into the room, closing the door behind him. I hold my breath until the door lock clicks into place, and only then do I let out my breath. Sergei’s gaze dips down to where my hands are holding onto the robe’s ties, and I take it as my cue to tug on them, opening the black robe. I let the material fall from my shoulders until it pools at my feet.
“You cleaned,” he announces, and I nod my head, my voice still quiet. “I don’t know when I’ll be home tonight,” he informs me. My chest aches at his words. “I have to go to Katrina’s club for a meeting,” he murmurs and then my heart races with jealousy.
“Mistress Katrina’s club?” I ask, attempting to keep my voice even.
I know that I fail at keeping the jealousy out of my tone. His eyes flash with something, then his lips lift in a smirk. “Jealous?” he clucks. He’s smiling now, and it’s condescending, but he isn’t wrong. I am jealous.
“Take me with you?” I chance asking.
He shakes his head once, then he reaches out and cups my cheek with his palm. “Do you know how Mistress Katrina obtained you?” he asks ominously.
“She purchased me,” I state matter-of-factly.
Sergei shakes his head, his hand moving down to wrap around the side of my throat. “She stole you, Raisa. She took you from Zakhar and he knows it. He took one of her girls, and in order to get her back, he expects me to come up with a way to make things right.” He leans down, pressing his lips to mine before he rasps, “He won’t live to make the deal, krasotka.” His lips touch mine, they sear my own and I can’t hold back the moan.
His words swirl around inside of my head, but I don’t pay them any attention. I’m glad she stole me, I’m glad she gave me to Sergei. My life has never been so good, and I’ve never felt so happy as I do with him. I hope he’ll keep me, I hope that this is where I’m meant to stay, always.
Slowly, he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against my own. He looks almost sad, melancholy before he speaks. “Not this time, Raisa. I will take you down there if you wish. But not this time. This is business, not pleasure,” he rasps.
I want to demand that he take me with him. I don’t. It isn’t my place. I shouldn’t have even asked in the first place. My knees bend, and I slowly sink all the way down to the floor. The carpeting is plush against my skin as I reach for his belt and tug it open. He doesn’t stop me, in fact, I can feel his gaze on my face as if he’s actually touching me.
Freeing his hard, thick cock from his pants, I wrap my fingers around his length and slowly stroke him. Lifting my gaze to his, I watch him. Licking the tip of his cock, I open my mouth and pull him completely down my throat.
“Fuck,” Sergei curses.
His hands that were fisted at his side they lift and one of them tangles in the back of my hair while the other wraps around the front of my throat. I moan as he slowly fucks my mouth, taking control and owning it—owning me.
I can feel my pussy pulse, it aches between my legs, but I know that I won’t find relief, not yet at least. This, this is only for him. When he groans, I know he’s close, I can feel his cock growing even harder. He buries himself down my throat, his fist tightening in my hair, his fingers tightening around the back of my neck and he shouts as his cum slides into me, filling me.
Sergei’s entire body shivers. Slowly, he pulls out of my mouth, releasing me, and looks down. “You’ll be waiting for me when I return. On the bed, right now, Raisa,” he grinds out.
I stand and hurry toward the bed, crawling on top and lying down on my back. A few minutes later, I’m bound to the bed. My ankles are clipped to the footboard, my legs spread wide and my arms to the headboard, spread wide, and if that wasn’t enough my neck is clipped to the center of the headboard so that I can’t even lift my head.
Closing my eyes, I sigh. It feels euphoric, freeing, and I feel absolutely beautiful. Sergei leaves me with a light brush of his mouth against my own. I keep my eyes closed and I let my mind clear, let myself completely relax. It’s been a stressful couple of days, and as if he knows me better than I know myself, Sergei takes care of me and gives me what I need.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
SERGEI
Katrina lifts her chin as soon as Nikolai and I walk through the door. He grunts next to me. Glancing up at him, I notice that his eyes are pointed toward the stage. There is a woman strapped to a cross, naked and exposed, waiting for the Dominant in front of her to put on a show.
“Sexy isn’t it?” I chance asking.
He chuckles, turning his head back toward me. “Sexy, yeah. Practical for everyday life, not so much,” he shrugs.
I shake my head. “It is though, Niko.”
He clucks his tongue, a sly smile appearing on his lips. “Really? You and Raisa, you do these extreme scenes every day? Or sometimes do you just fuck, you and her in a bed, missionary or otherwise?” he asks, lifting a brow.
I lift my hand and flip him the finger which only causes him to burst out in a laugh. “Doesn’t mean that even when we fuck vanilla, that we are a vanilla couple. There is nothing plain and normal about me and my Raisa,” I mutter as we walk toward the back of the club.
He snorts but doesn’t respond. Once we’re at the door that will lead us underground, I send Katrina a text. It only takes a few seconds for the door to open. Katrina is in her full Domme costume tonight, her hair in a tight ponytail, her body encased in liquid leather. She is sexy as sin.
“She’s in a room,” she announces as we walk into the dark hall.
Both Nikolai and I follow behind her, twisting and turning through the halls. It takes me back to just days ago when I was following behind her on my way to pick up Raisa.
I didn’t know it at the time, I couldn’t have predicted what a treasure I would find in her.
What a beautifully submissive creature awaited me.
How much my world would change in just a matte
r of minutes.
Tonight will yield a different situation. This woman who is being held is a traitor. Not only to Katrina, but to me as well—to the Bratva.
“She is here. She’s been isolated. I’ve not talked to her as you requested,” Katrina says, unlocking the door with a bow of her head.
The woman is chained to the middle of the room, much like my Raisa was when I first encountered her, except this woman is a piece of shit. She’s naked, her blonde hair hanging limply in front of her face like a curtain. When the door slams closed behind us, she lifts her head.
Her face is dirty, her eyes wild, except when they land on me they fill with fear.
“So you know who I am?” I ask, keeping my voice cool and even.
She nods, a whimper escaping her lips. It does not make me feel any way in particular. Seeing her this way doesn’t make me feel any way either. She is nothing but a traitor. Nothing but a body. Nothing but fucking trash.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Orlov. I didn’t want to, he made me,” she cries.
Nikolai chuckles behind me and Katrina snorts. I don’t make any kind of noise whatsoever. Tilting my head to the side, I continue to just watch her, waiting for a few seconds before I speak.
“You didn’t look abused to me? So please tell me how he forced you.”
She gulps, her gaze losing contact with my own. “He threatened me, threatened to take me,” she admits.
“So to save yourself, you sold out your boss?”
She puffs up her chest, attempting to square her shoulders and her eyes narrow. “You would do it in a heartbeat, anybody would. I do not feel guilty for protecting myself,” she grinds out.
I shake my head, laughing humorlessly at her attempted observation. “Suka, I would never sell out the Bratva. I would never sell out someone who meant anything to me. What I would do is kill anyone who did though,” I shrug.
“I’ll do anything. Whatever you want. Take me, use me, keep me. I don’t care, just don’t hurt me,” she pleads.
My hand reaches for my gun, but I freeze. “Niko?” I ask, turning my gaze to him.
“Boss,” he mutters, taking a step forward from his place behind me.
I look at him straight in the eye, ignoring Katrina and the girl. “I have a buyer who likes to keep pretty things for himself. He’ll treat her well enough, he’ll give her a firm hand. Do you think she deserves to live? Deserves to be used as a little fuck toy for the rest of her life?” I ask.
I hear her cry out from her place on the floor and I turn my attention toward her. She’s shaking her head screaming the word no. “No?” I ask.
“Honest, boss?” Niko asks. Lifting my chin, I wait for him to speak. “I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of living. She needs to die. Slowly. She doesn’t deserve to even serve as a slave. She doesn’t deserve shit,” he spits.
Nodding, I grip my gun’s handle and take it out of its holster. She screams again, but I drop my piece. Nikolai hands me a knife and I walk closer to her. Crouching down in front of her, I press the tip of the knife against the base of her collarbone.
“You know, this man kept Raisa from the time she was fifteen until now. Ten years, Zakhar abused her and you were so quick to save your ass and sell her out. So quick to sell out Katrina and get Lusha kidnapped. No love for your fellow humans, for your fellow women.”
She whimpers, tears streaming down her face. Sliding the knife down, I press it against her skin, watching as blood trickles down her chest all the way to her lower belly. Lifting the knife away, I repeat the motion on untouched skin. Over and over again until all I see are stripes of blood.
The girl cries, wails, as I mark her. I accidentally slice a nipple off and I should feel guilty, or really, feel anything, but I don’t. I feel—nothing.
Taking the knife, I slice the inside of her thighs and watch her blood puddle beneath her body. She’s making a mess, an ugly mess. Katrina makes a noise behind me and I glance back. “Just end her, Sergei,” she mumbles. “She’s weak.” Katrina tries to be tough, but at the end of the day, she is weak.
“Do you hold affection for her?” I ask, turning back to her.
Katrina looks from the girl, then back to me. “I did, once,” she admits. Which means she still does. Weak and soft.
I turn my gaze back to the girl. “You betrayed your lover. You’re a disgusting excuse for a woman, and human,” I hiss.
Lifting the knife, I bury it deep in her belly. She gasps, her eyes wide and her chains clank together as she tries to break free but after a few seconds her body goes limp.
“Clean-up crew will be at the back entrance in five minutes,” I announce as I stand to my feet.
Leaving Katrina crying, Nikolai and I walk out of the room. “Katrina understands, she will be fine,” Niko says as we walk toward the back of the building.
“It doesn’t matter. The suka had to die,” I shrug.
“Zakhar?” he asks.
I chuckle, lifting my chin as I step out into the cool night air. Taking a cigarette out of my pocket, I light it, inhaling the first drag. Closing my eyes, I release it before I speak. “He should be dead any day. Vladimir is the best Torpedo I have. When he’s gone, we’ll go in and grab Lusha. Should be easy enough.”
“I hope so,” Nikolai grumbles.
He doesn’t sound completely convinced and I have to admit, just to myself because I would never admit it to him, I’m a little concerned as well. The amount of money that Zakhar has could buy him a hiding place, and possibly freedom.
We leave the club, just as the clean-up crew arrives. I don’t need to stay and watch them, they will do what they’re paid heftily for.
“Take me to my office, yeah?” I instruct.
Nikolai’s brows shoot up in surprise, but he doesn’t comment on my decision to go to work instead of home to Raisa. I’m not staying away from her to be a complete dick, I have a reason for my method.
First, I need her to sweat it out a bit, spread and bound to the bed. She was having issues with her newfound freedom, with the change in our relationship and I could see that she was struggling. This is for her, to give her the balance and control she craves.
Secondly, I need to make a few phone calls and I don’t need her or Panya to overhear me. These are delicate. These are personal.
Once Nikolai arrives at my office building, I hurry inside and take the elevator to the top, where my private office is located. It’s empty, dark, and quiet as I walk down the halls. It should probably make me feel uneasy, but it doesn’t. Nikolai waits for me, he knows where I am, and nobody would dare to fuck with me.
Slipping into my dark office, I flip on just one of the overhead lights before I sink down into my chair and pull out my phone. Searching for the name I need, I press send.
“Orlov,” the voice growls on the other end.
My future son-in-law, Kirill, doesn’t sound pleased to hear from me, but I could give a fuck. He’ll always take my call no matter when I press send.
Clearing my throat. “You’ve not done anything stupid, have you?” I ask.
“Like marry her before you arrive?” he asks on a chuckle.
“She’s my daughter, Kirill. At the end of the day, remember that she was mine to give to you in the first place,” I remind him.
He grumbles, then coughs to clear his throat. “I remember, Sergei. I will wait for you,” he agrees.
“I have something I’m finishing up here, I expect to be there within a week’s time,” I say. He grunts his agreement and I end the call before he can respond.
Leaning back in my chair, I look at the ceiling of my office. What the fuck am I doing with Raisa? What the fuck am I doing with Zakhar. I want him dead, I ordered his head but to what avail? What will happen when he’s dead? I can’t think that I’m going to get away with this shot scot free. There will be consequences.
Picking up my phone again I twirl it in my fingers.
I make one more call.
An important one.<
br />
One I probably should have done a long fucking time ago.
RAISA
I keep my eyes pinched closed, my breathing even, and I wait. My pussy isn’t just pulsing or aching anymore, it hurts and it’s dripping with need.
I don’t just want release.
I need it.
I need to be touched.
I need to come.
I need Sergei.
The door lock clicks and I inhale deeply before I let it out, opening my eyes. I can’t lift my head very high, but what I can see is Sergei and just the thought of him here in this room has me moaning. He walks up to the foot of the bed, his finger touches my ankle with his fingertip and I whimper.
“How are you, krasotka?”
I let out a ragged breath before I tell him exactly how I feel, exactly what hurts. With each word I breathe, his fingers dance up the inside of my thighs. I pull my arms and legs, but all that happens is the metal hooks rattle.
When Sergei’s fingers make their way to my center, he slips two inside of me. I cry out, unable to hold it in. He curls his fingers inside of me, his eyes finally finding mine.
“Are you going to come for me? You’re fucking drenched,” he groans.
I’ve never heard his voice so soft, so sweet before and it turns me on even more. His other hand slides up my side, his fingers finding purchase on one of my nipples, and he tugs it hard. I cry out, shaking my head from side to side, wishing that I could move closer to him, touch him, anything.
“If you come, I’ll fuck you, Raisa. You have to show me how badly you want it, krasotka. Give it to me,” he growls.
My back bows and his words send me over the edge. I come, my pussy clenching around his curled fingers as I sob with my release. He slowly removes his fingers and crawls between my legs, but he doesn’t stop there, he doesn’t stop until his face is above mine. He’s completely clothed, and I groan when the fabric of his suit touches my sensitive skin.