Page 22 of The Bratva's Forced Kidnapped Bride
Finally, finally, he was inside me again, and it only took a few deep strokes for me to be clinging onto him, shuddering and screaming. Screaming his name.
He fell on top of me, spent and breathing hard. When I let go of my death grip on him and let my arms fall to my sides, he rolled off of me. We both lay there, panting. I could feel him looking at me, but I kept my eyes closed.
That was amazing. Mindblowing. With the aftershocks of a third orgasm still making me weak, I already craved more. I instigated this to get back in the driver’s seat, to regain control. Even now, with the cuffs off, I was well aware I wasn’t in control of anything regarding Anatoli Ovinko.
And somehow, at that moment when he lazily slung his arm across my middle, I didn’t even care.
Chapter 16 - Anatoli
A single scorching night with my wife had to be enough. Still, I had to keep her close, didn’t I? For the next few days, she went everywhere with me, making the rounds of visiting my family’s homes, meeting my cousin’s children, and waging a campaign to win the hearts and minds of anyone who felt I’d betrayed them by leaving. Masha played her part well, cooing over babies in a way that made something tighten up in my chest, and that I had to push away.
She seemed to realize how much everyone liked her, and was either enjoying their company or using it to her advantage to try to get everyone to open up and spill information she thought might be useful. Maybe she was even looking for allies. There were moments when I wanted to believe she sincerely liked my family, but those were as dangerous as thinking what we’d shared in bed was real.
I only left her locked up under guard at the apartment when I had meetings with my uncles, and she didn’t take it well, clearly pissed off that nothing had changed after our single night of passion. Did she think it would?
In truth, it had. She threatened to consume me; my desire for her was so great. It could very well overwhelm my need for revenge. It was a nice little break, but the next night, I escorted her to a guest room and slammed the door on her shocked outrage. Or maybe I was wrong and it was hurt I saw in her eyes? Impossible. The taste of her had made me forget who she was. And what she was capable of. So, no more.
There were still a few more people I had to have personal meetings with, and we couldn’t return to LA until after the big party that wouldn’t just include my family but most of the peoplewho worked for us. There was no real reason for her to go with me to the current meeting I had on the books, at my cousin’s bar. But I didn’t like the idea of giving Masha too much free time to conspire against me, so I rapped on her door.
“Change into something nicer,” I said.
“Surely I’ve met everyone by now,” she said. “And we haven’t been home more than half an hour since the morning meeting you dragged me to.”
“You haven’t met half of them,” I said. “We’re a very prolific family.” I tapped my foot, and she went to the closet where all her clothes had been moved.
“Do you want to choose, my lord?” She said it sarcastically, staring me down until I raised a brow at her. “I guess if I don’t pick something, you’ll demand another show?”
Did she look hopeful? Those recent memories assailed me: the sight of her skin, the feel of her under my fingertips, the sound of her moans. The screams I had wanted to draw from her for so long, just not the way I originally intended. She shouldn’t have affected me the way she did. She shouldn’t have been affecting me now.
“Put that gray dress on. Five minutes.” I turned and left, smirking at her disgruntled huff.
She was not in control. I just had to make sure I was.
Masha met me at the front door with ten seconds to spare and looked utterly gorgeous. I told her so, and she scowled at me, her cheeks turning pink. What woman hated a compliment? Oh, right, my wife. Unless it was about her marksmanship or ability to forcefully squeeze answers out of unwitting victims. We drove in silence until we got to the bar, and I waited for herto look disdainfully at the rather drab building halfway outside the city.
She smiled instead. “Looks like one of my uncles’ places on the outskirts of Moscow.”
“Does he distill his own vodka like Josef?” I asked.
“Of course, though I’ll have to taste Josef’s to judge if it’s better.”
“Have at it,” I said. “You’re not driving.”
There was no way she’d let her guard down enough to get drunk, but she did sample my cousin’s offering, throwing her head back as she downed the shot with gusto. This was only partly a meeting, and my cousins’ wives were there to gather around her and keep her occupied while Josef and the others filled me in on their points of view. As I expected, they were divided.
None of them had gotten along particularly well with Konstantin, but some were averse to sudden change. I assured them that I had no desire to interfere with how they ran their businesses. Instead of flatly accusing Leonid of being untrustworthy, I leaned heavily on the fact that he was too old to take on so much responsibility.
I had come home to Volgograd to appease some far-off sense of duty to my long-dead father, but ever since I’d been back, the fire to take my rightful place had been lit. It now burned strong and bright, and I was ready to take over.
“Leonid is sharper than ever, and in good health,” Josef said. “But giving in to Ava’s demands is madness. Let her leave and grieve Konstantin in St. Petersburg with her family if that’s what she wants, but to take half of everything with her?”
The others grumbled, and I stoked their anger with a little bit of kindling I’d just recently learned. “Last year, Leonid visited her parents six times. I had no idea they were that close, especially when Ava and Kon didn’t go with him on those visits.”
Just as I suspected, they were surprised by that, and I let them conjecture among themselves until one of the wives called over to us that it was time for dinner. The bar had no kitchen to speak of, but a catered meal had arrived, and soon we were all gathered around a table, talking and laughing and catching up.
As usual, Masha got along with everyone and fit right in, complimenting the food from the local restaurant that Josef’s wife ran. She asked questions in a way that got my cousins talking, but not in a way that had their guard up or suspect anything untoward. She was a consummate spy and in her element. Only I knew she was expertly gathering intel, just as I knew she’d never get a chance to use it.
Since I couldn’t take my eyes off her, I noticed the split second her mask slipped, showing how exhausted she truly was. We’d been going nonstop since we landed, and I was beginning to feel the strain, too. It was barely a blink, and the tired look was gone; she was back to being bubbly and charming.
