Sold to the Mob Boss: A Mafia Romance (Lavrin Bratva)

by Nicole Fox

  She licks her lips. “I want to taste you.”

  I growl and slide the rest of the way up her body until I’m planting a knee on each side of her head. I stroke myself just inches from her face. “You want this?”

  She nods.

  “Tell me.”

  “I want your cock, Nikita.”

  I guide my length into her waiting mouth. When I press the tip to her lips, she opens, eager to accept. She grabs my ass, pulling me harder into her. Already, her velvety tongue is threatening to make me explode any second.

  I pull away and she whimpers, so I bend down and kiss her lips. “You’re driving me crazy and I don’t want to come yet.”

  My hand travels to her breast to play with a nipple, squeezing just hard enough for Annie to feel it. When she groans, I squeeze again. My fingers travel down her body, pulling her underwear off, and settle between her thighs, flicking my tongue over her engorged clit. “God, you taste so good. So wet for me already.”

  “Nikita,” she cries out as my tongue plunges inside her, my teeth scraping her outer lips. “Yes. Please.” Her words come out in pants.

  The flat of my tongue washes over my clit as one finger, then two invade her, pumping hard and deep.

  “Oh, Nikita. Oh my God. Please don’t stop.” Annie writhes for a minute before her sex squeezes me and she explodes, twitching on my fingertips.

  Fuck. I damn near blow my load, but I want to be inside her. I need to be inside her. And now.

  “Open your eyes, Annie.”

  She stares up into my eyes as the tip of my cock spears into her until I bottom out. My thrusts are hard and powerful as our bodies pound together. I’m on fire. I snap my hips, withdrawing just enough, and slam back into her, violent need driving my body as I chase my own release.

  Without warning, I pull out and flip her over, pulling her hips up until she’s on her knees, before thrusting inside her again. Gripping her by the back of the neck, I push down until her cheek is against the dirt and grind into her over and over. “Your pussy feels so good. So wet and tight.”

  I fuck her mercilessly. It’s insane. Wild. Primitive.

  My sweat drips down on her, and she pushes up onto her hands until her back is connected with my body. My arms encircle her waist and hold her still as I thrust up, my mouth sucking her neck.

  Then I shift her again, lowering myself to the ground so that she’s on top of me, grinding her clit into my pelvis hard. My fingers pinch her nipples as she drives down over and over.

  I tell her to lean back and she obeys instantly, changing the angle and giving me better access to my clit. I rub her furiously, pushing her over the edge one last time. And when her sex clenches around my aching cock, I grab her hips and slam home one last time, exploding deep inside of her.

  Annie collapses on top of me and I wrap my arms around her, holding her trembling body. Basking in the sun and satiated, we lie there in silence. Something is brewing between us. Too soon to be love.

  Love? No, I don’t love. I fuck. I use. I dispose.

  Perhaps the time has come for that last part.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Nikita

  Annie shifts and slides to the side of me, my body missing the warmth of her skin. She sits up just as a cool breeze washes over us and goose bumps cover her skin. I grab her sweatshirt and hand it to her. “You should put this on before you catch a cold.”

  She takes the shirt from me and slips it on before standing to collect the rest of her clothes. I prop myself up on an elbow and my gaze runs over what the piece of clothing doesn’t cover. Those long legs, that plump ass, and her still-wet pussy. My dick begins to swell again and when she glances over her shoulder, her mouth dropping a little when her eyes land on my dick, I’m fully erect once more.

  “Annie, if you keep staring at me like that, you’re going to have to do something about my current situation.”

  Her tongue swipes her top lip and I groan, wanting to be inside her mouth. She puts on the sweatpants and starts to make her way over to me when something rattles from one of the bags. I swing my head over to listen. A vibration like an annoyed rattlesnake sounds again. I spring to my feet and grab a stick before heading over to the offending backpack with Annie at my side.

  “Stay back,” I say to her, my arm pushing her behind me. “Might be a snake.”

  “Um, Nikita, snakes that make that type of noise don’t live in this part of the country.”

  I turn and glare at her. But the sound goes off again and I inch closer, pushing the bag over with the stick. No animals. I throw the stick off to the side and grab the back, unzipping it and emptying the contents onto the ground.

  “You had a phone the entire time?” Annie asks as she scoops the phone off the floor.

  My brain stutters for a moment and my eyes take in more light than I expected, every part of me going on pause while my thoughts catch up. “I honestly forgot I threw the burner phone in the bag. Hell, I even forgot I turned it on.”

  I grab the phone from her and check the screen.

  Eitan.

  I let the call ring out without answering and grab my clothes, my erection gone and my pulse rate skyrocketing. “We need to pack up and move.”

  “Why?”

  “I’m not sure who to trust and if they’re tracking us through the phone we could be in danger.” I shove my legs into my pants, button them, and put on my shoes as fast as I can as Annie stuffs all the contents on the floor back into the bag. No matter how hard I try to control my breathing, dread won’t release its grip over me.

  The phone rings again. Eitan’s name flashes on the screen once more. I snarl and swallow past the growing lump in my throat as my finger hovers over the answer button for a second before touching the screen. I don’t say a word in case it’s not Eitan but someone who has his phone.

  “Nikita? Nikita, are you there?” my advisor’s voice comes through the speaker.

  “Yes.”

  “Are you okay? Where are you?”

  He sounds genuinely concerned but I’m not ready to give him any answers. “I’m safe. What happened?”

  “Augustin. He betrayed us.” The venom in Eitan’s tone tells me all I need to know. I can trust him. I remain silent and listen as he continues speaking. “He was with the men who were tracking Gino but then communication went dead. When I sent Jimmy to check things out, he called and reported all the men were killed. But he couldn’t find Augustin’s body.”

  I rake my hands through my hair, cursing under my breath. This is too familiar. Just like what happened to my father. My heart begins to pound until my head aches from the building pressure. “How did they find me?”

  “Augustin must’ve given him your address and the security code to the penthouse. When we raided his apartment, we found pictures and notes. He’d been tracking you.”

  Annie’s pacing in front of me like a caged tiger, her skin paling with each passing second. “And the weapons shipment?”

  “Gone. Augustin sabotaged it. Gave everything to Gino.” Eitan sighs on the other end and I know there’s more. “Nikita, Gino launched an attack on all our soldiers and businesses across the city.”

  “Fuck. Fucking fuck.”

  How could I have been so fucking stupid? How could I have been so blind and weak? How could I have been just like my father?

  God fucking damn it. I swore never to be like him. Anger boils deep in my system, as hot as lava. It churns within, hungry for destruction, and I know it’s too much for me to handle. The pressure of this raging sea of anger is the force I need to exact revenge and I allow it to fuel my darkest desires.

  I allow the darkness to swallow me whole.

  “Eitan, we’re at the site my father and I used to camp at. Get to the base of the mountain as fast as you can and tell no one.”

  “We?”

  I snort. “Yeah, Annie’s with me.”

  Eitan doesn’t say a word other than to let me know he’s on his way and then
hangs up. I tuck the phone into my back pocket and button my shirt, not wanting to waste another second.

  Revenge is the only thing I want right now. And I will get it.

  Annie timidly walks over to me and places her hand on my arm. I stare daggers at her and keep moving. She should’ve had everything put together already. She should know better than to waste time on stupid things like sympathy. We’re in a war right now.

  “Nikita, what’s going on?”

  “I found out who betrayed me. Now, it’s time for payback,” I sneer.

  Annie’s brows furrow as she looks at me, standing there like a fucking helpless deer. I’m halfway across the clifftop before I realize she isn’t behind me. I whirl around to stare at her. “Annie, what the fuck are you doing? I told you to get everything ready.”

  Her fingers curl into small fists, red coloring her cheeks. “Excuse me?”

  “I don’t have time for this. Eitan is meeting us at the base of the mountain. We have to hike back down. So: let’s go.” I’m impatient, fists clenching and unclenching, running my hands through my hair over and over again. I want blood spilled and I want it now. Why can’t she understand that? Why can’t she see that it’s time to strike back?

  She looks at me with an unreadable expression. Something akin to fear, sorrow, confusion, all of those and none of them. Part of me wants to hold her and make her understand. Look at what’s happened!

  But I can’t—because in so many ways, she did this to me. I became too enthralled with Annie and now many of my men are dead. Others will be soon, too, if I don’t hurry. Lives were wasted because I was paying attention to the wrong thing. My businesses can be rebuilt. My soldiers can’t be brought back from the grave.

  “I told you—we need to go. Now.”

  Annie flings the backpack in her hands at my feet. “I understand you’re angry, but don’t take it out on me. I was shot at too, remember?”

  I reach down, grab the pack, and sling it over my shoulder before grabbing the second pack and doing the same. If she’s going to throw a temper tantrum, then I won’t waste the energy on getting her to understand what’s happening. Is she sad? Hurt? I don’t give a fuck. There’s no time for sadness or pain.

  She was never meant for this world; that much is obvious to me, now. I can hardly believe I didn’t see it before. My men are paying for it. I’m paying for it.

  Time to turn that around.

  “Are you ready or not?”

  “Yeah,” she says and brushes past me without a second glance, charging ahead toward the path.

  No matter how much I try to convince myself I don’t care, I hate the way she looks at me. Hate the brush-off and how wet her eyes are. But this is my life. I’m where I am because of how I handle myself. Why change when I’ve been successful, especially after the mutiny erupting at my feet?

  I close my eyes and picture how the conversation would go, if I could even figure out where to begin:

  “Last night was a mistake. My world is different than yours. You wouldn’t understand and you can’t understand. And as for the sex, it was great. But that’s all it was. Just sex. Nothing more.”

  Would she cry? Hit me? Curse at me or spit in my face? I can’t say for sure.

  And then another thought occurs to me: have I made an enemy? We’re making our way down the path, faster than last night, and though I can see Annie wincing at every step on her tender feet, she doesn’t stop or slow down. Fury emanates from her.

  What if I had left her behind and Gino had gotten ahold of her?

  Fuck.

  She’s a weakness. Not just a mistake of the past. Not just a temporary flight of fancy, easily fixed and forgotten. She’s seen my home. Heard about my past. She knows me in a way that few do.

  And Gino is just the man who would exploit that.

  I grind my molars when she turns around a bend and disappears into the trees. The bag on my shoulder shifts when I stomp to follow her. I stoop to readjust the strap, and the burner cell tumbles to the forest floor.

  My eyes go wide. Annie found the cell phone so quickly when I dumped the bag out. And she wasn’t afraid the noise could’ve been a snake. Not to mention I don’t remember turning the phone on.

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  It must have been her. She turned it on when I was sleeping. She’s been playing me from the very beginning.

  I rip the phone from my pocket and scroll through the call history and text messages. Nothing. But she could’ve erased them. She must’ve betrayed me when I was sleeping. My gaze lifts to search for her but she’s gone. How could I have been so stupid to expose myself so badly?

  I race off toward the path. God only knows what awaits me at the bottom of the mountain. Maybe a squad of police. Maybe Gino. This whole ‘innocent abductee’ routine could’ve been an act. Gino could’ve orchestrated the whole thing. And Augustin. He was the person who grabbed her, wasn’t he? Or at least, that’s what was reported to me. Was this all a lie?

  The bags are weighing me down and catching on every overhang and bush. Every hang-up is costing me time, as Annie hurtles down the mountain ahead of me. She’s getting further and further away.

  I growl and continue to race on until I spot her. “Annie!”

  She doesn’t stop or turn around. When I’m within arm’s reach, she releases a branch she had been holding out of the way. It arcs back like a whip and smacks me in the cheek, splitting open my skin.

  “Fucking hell!” I curse. I can feel the blood trickling down my jaw.

  Rage blinds me. I lunge towards Annie. One hand flies up to her throat and lifts her into the air, pinning her against the rock ledge that runs along one side of this flat part of the trail. Dust floats around our feet.

  “Did you betray me?” I roar. “Was it you?”

  My voice echoes in the empty woods. The only other noise is Annie struggling to breathe. “Nik ... Nikita ... stop! Please ...” Her words are hoarse and faint.

  Suddenly, her dancing feet lash out and connect with my groin. I curse again and drop her. She falls into a puddle on the ground, wheezing.

  The woods are silent.

  “I didn’t do anything,” she says after a while. She isn’t looking at me, or at anything, really. Her eyes a vacant, thousand-yard stare. She’s rubbing her throat. I can see the red imprints of my fingers on her soft skin. “I didn’t know you had a phone. And if I wanted to betray you, I would’ve hiked down the mountain while you were sleeping instead of waiting for you to wake up, you fucking beast.”

  I’m still breathing hard. Anger? Shame? It’s hard to say why.

  She glares up at me with pure hatred in her eyes. I almost stumble backwards at the sheer force of her gaze. I’ve never seen anyone with such venom in their stare. It’s haunting in a girl like her. She was innocent when I met her. Now ... I’ve made her into something else.

  “I just want to go home. I want to graduate and get a job like a normal fucking person,” she says. “I want to forget you ever exist.”

  She pushes herself back up to her feet. Her hands ball into fists at her side and her lips press so tight they’re a thin line. “What, you have nothing to say now? After you accused me of betraying you? Like I want to be part of whatever Augustin did. You do know the man smacked me around and kidnapped me, right? I told you that. Oh, but I must be lying because everybody is a liar to you.”

  “Shut up,” I whisper.

  “Just take me home. I want to go home.”

  I’m at a loss for words. She takes one more look at me, then shoves past and continues down the path.

  I don’t want to believe her, but I know deep in my bones that she’s telling the truth. She isn’t the type of girl to play the high-stakes game I’ve accused her of. She doesn’t know this world. She doesn’t want to be a part of it. Again and again in her life, she’s been dragged in. Just when she was almost free, I did it to her once more.

  Only a moron would’ve stayed until morning if they’d been the
cause of this. And Gino’s men did try to kill her, too.

  I turn and follow her down the trail again. The woodland seems ominously quiet. The sound of our own footfalls is silent and all that can be heard is the whisper of the leaves.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Annie

  I picture Nikita’s face the rest of the way down the mountain.

  Skin flushed with rage, his eyes black and lifeless. Nostrils flared. Jaw clenched. I’ve seen that face before. Or rather, one just like it. The face of a monster.

  My father used to look at me just like that.

  There are so many things I remember from those years. The bricks through the window, that bloody stump of a finger in the cardboard box. I will never forget the dirty boots of the mob men propped up on our coffee table—not as long as I live.

  But what I remember more than any of that, more than any of the other horrors that haunted my mother and me through the worst stage of my life before now, are the eyes of my father. Mere inches away from my face, the whites nearly gone, the pupils so dark that they seemed bottomless, I remember how he looked at me. He wasn’t my father anymore in that moment. He was just a beast.

  He wasn’t like that at first, of course. It started with anxiety. After the men left, he would hold my mother and me in his arms and just apologize, over and over again.

  I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

  He meant it, too, I think. At least, part of him did. But the part of a man that cares about what he does to the women in his life? That part can’t last long, if he’s to survive in that world.

  The anxiety never left, but it did change. It became frustration. It became anger. It became furious outbursts over the randomest things—the TV on too loud? He’d scream himself hoarse. A pair of dirty shoes left in the front hallway? He’d punch walls, so close I could feel the dust from the drywall.

  And soon, walls weren’t enough. Then the only thing left to hit was us.

  He told me once that he wished I’d never been born. “If it weren’t for you, we would’ve been fine. We woulda been just fine.” His voice was so weird when he said that. I didn’t even know what he meant. I mean, I did, but I didn’t. I just remember how weird his voice was when he said it. It was just him and me, sitting in the kitchen. I was doing math homework, I think. He was drinking whiskey, like he always did on the rare nights when he was home. And he just looked at me out of nowhere and said that, with that weird tone in his voice, like he was strangling or drowning.