Viktor: Russian Mafia Romance (Red Bratva Billionaires Book 1)

by Coco Miller

  "Fuck, baby, you're tight." I clench my teeth as I try to stop myself from coming right there.

  I slow things down so she can adjust to my size. I am being so greedy that it never dawned on me that I'd need to take it easy at first.

  "Oh God, fuck me," she begs as she adjusts to my fat cock.

  Her eyes open after a while and lust has replaced the shock of my dick stretching her to the max. I take my time pulling out until just the tip is inside and then I pushed it back in. After a couple of deep thrusts, she starts pushing back into me, slamming my dick harder into her.

  "Fuck me good," she whispers before pulling my head down and kissing me. Her teeth nip my lip as my tongue assaults hers.

  "That I can do, baby."

  I grab her legs and flip her over. My hand smacks her ass as she cries out, her pussy quivering around my cock showing me how much she likes it. My thumb pushes against her puckered hole putting a small amount of pressure on it as I fuck her. I look down and see my dick coated in her juices and it urges me to fuck her even harder. Way harder.

  Her arms collapse and her teeth sink into a pillow as her fists clench the blanket under her. Her muffled scream and the way her pussy is milking my dick shows me she has finally been granted the orgasm I have been denying her.

  The feeling of her tight cunt pulsing around me is too much. Hot ribbons of come shoot out of my dick trying to push past the latex barrier I have it wrapped in.

  Kennedy's glistening body collapses fully on the bed and I pull her toward me. After disposing of the condom, I tuck us in the covers and hold her.

  "That was amazing," she pants.

  "That was just the beginning," I tell her, rolling over to retrieve the ribbon of condoms I have bought just for tonight.

  I roll back over to her side of the bed.

  "You have the look of pure evil written across your face," she says to me.

  She's right. I'm up to no good.

  "So, what exactly wouldn't you mind doing next?"

  "I wouldn't mind letting you touch me again," she whispers as her hands rest on my shoulders after I slide into the bed next to her again.

  "What else?" I ask, pushing her to say she wants to be fucked again because I'm ready to go again and again.

  "I wouldn't mind letting you kiss me."

  "Kiss you where?" I keep pushing.

  "My lips," she says moving in slowly for a kiss.

  "Which lips, Kennedy?"

  "Both," she says right before her lips land on mine.

  I squeeze her ass and pull her flush against me. I can't seem to get enough of her. I lift her up as she wraps her legs around me. I want to see those perfect tits bouncing while she experiences more pleasure than she's ever received before.

  Her dazed eyes roam up to my face and I grin mischievously at her before slamming my cock deep inside her, enough to elicit her scream. I love making them scream. She calls my name as I sink in deeper and deeper, in and out.

  Lost in the feeling of her hot wetness surrounding me. Her body is tight and oh so fucking sweet, I never want this to end. The sounds of our skin slapping together fill the room, yet I need more. I grab onto her waist to pound into her, harder. Claiming her. Owning her.

  "Oh God, I'm so close."

  "That's right baby, come all over me."

  I thrust deeper throwing one of her legs over my shoulder to get a better angle as her body tightens all around me. Her eyes squeeze shut as she screams out her orgasm. By the sounds of it, I know she is seeing fucking stars. Her body pulsates around me, but I still don't stop.

  I'm still being greedy and want more. I am relentless as I continue pumping into her long after she comes down from her high. I feel my balls tighten, I am close.

  The moonlight filters through the room as I watch her tits bounce with every thrust. I grab onto one, rolling the nipple between my fingers. She moans, I groan and before I know it I am fucking coming deep inside her. It is some next level shit. My orgasm is never-ending as my dick throbs uncontrollably.

  The minute I have function over my body I fling onto my back on the bed, gasping, while I stare up to the ceiling.

  "Holy hell, that was amazing," she says, breathing heavily.

  It sure as fuck was.

  Chapter Eleven

  VIKTOR

  As Kennedy scrambles some eggs and throws some bread in the toaster, I focus in on her ass the whole time. Hey, I like to appreciate the view like any red-blooded male, but hers is better because I know I've had it in my hands. I've spanked it, bit it, squeezed it, and claimed it. It's mine, and watching her float through the kitchen lifts my mood.

  "Hope you're hungry," she calls out to my filthy mind.

  One-track mind, stay focused, I say to myself. Don't let her beautiful ass deter you from your mission. I need to head to the club and prevent any more girls from dying.

  Of course, anything I say to myself just doesn't work when she leans into the oven to pull out a tray of cinnamon rolls. They smell delicious. Just like her pussy. Her heart-shaped ass calls to me, and I move from the stool and smack it.

  "Oww, what was that for?" She's smiling, so I know I didn't smack her too hard. Although I wanted to.

  "It was there and," I shrug, "in need of manhandling."

  She swats a kitchen towel at me, and I side-step it.

  "What if Terrica walked in?"

  Oh, that's right. Our new relationship is supposed to be a secret.

  "I'm sure she's seen worse."

  "Well, I hope not."

  "You might be a little naive when it comes to teenagers, Kennedy. Not sure how, but you are. At least with this one."

  "I prefer the term optimistic. Hey, can I ask you a personal question?" she asks me.

  "You can ask me anything, Krasotka."

  "What is a Krasotka?"

  "A beautiful woman."

  "Thank you." She blushes. "So uh, how did you get into the mob?"

  “Does what I do bother you?”

  “I didn’t say that. I mean you have real businesses. Apartment buildings, the club…”

  “And the pharmacy.”

  It’s time we talk about the elephant in the room.

  “You call it that but–“

  “It is a pharmacy for people who need pharmaceutical drugs at discount prices without the red tape. You know that the big pharmaceutical companies are the true drug dealers in this country don’t you, Kennedy?”

  “I know but still, it’s illegal.”

  “I’m providing a service.”

  “However you need to spin it. So tell me, how did you get here?”

  I think back. How did I get to this point in my life. My career.

  “Probably at the moment I met Boris Ivanov. He was notorious, brutal, and the closest thing to a father I have ever known. Working for him was exhilarating."

  I tell her about the story of when I left Chicago as a kid, took a bus to Texas, met Nicholai, and worked take-out at some small dive restaurant.

  "The restaurant only hired me because Nicholai told them I was his cousin. We are both Russian so what do they know right? He and I worked long hours. We were tired, trying to stand on our own two feet. It was brutal. We were working back to back night shifts, with no money to eat, and living in squalor as we strove to work harder and harder. It was in these dark moments that I realized, that you can work a hard life forever and never get anywhere. That working smarter was the key. That maybe this world is made for the cheaters and thieves. So that's what we became."

  "So you just asked the mob for a job?"

  "No," I chuckle. "We sort of fell into it. We started small, pickpocketing, small scores. Nothing too big. Until the night we met Boris."

  "I've heard nothing but scary stories about him."

  "They were probably all true. He was intimidating, and scary with his bushy brows and dark, sinister eyes. He didn't give Nicholai and I a chance in hell to offer our apology for conducting business on his 'turf'. He came at
us, offered us a deal and we were too young and stupid to not accept.

  "We were now the property of him, and we had no clue what we were in for. Boris took us from our tattered home and brought us to his place. A giant home filled with other rough boys, some younger than Nicholai and I. "

  "Wow," she says as she places a large plate of breakfast in front of me. "That's intense."

  "At first Nicholai and I kept to ourselves, unsure of our impending future. We mainly did grunt work, cleaning and doing constructional work for a small development of warehouses Boris had purchased in the heart of downtown Houston. We didn't mind the work. Boris kept us fed and well-clothed. He was grooming us, growing his own little army unbeknownst to us. We were blindly following his lead. We had nothing better to do. No other options.

  "The men we worked side by side with day in and day out became a brothership. We formed a bond. We laughed over silly jokes and hung out drinking beers on the weekend. Little did I know we were being taken care of by the very type of men I always swore I'd never become. Even criminals have standards.

  "Once I finally figured it out, we were both in too deep. Gone was the boy with sandy-blond hair and a hungry belly. I grew into a large, lethal, machine packed with muscles and covered in tattoos.

  "Nicholai seemed to quickly fall in line with our new destiny, but not me. I mourned for myself for a time, realizing that I was now part of a life that I would never be able to escape. It wasn't until Boris pulled me aside one day that my point of view changed."

  "How so?"

  I reflect back on that time...

  Chapter Twelve

  VIKTOR

  Thirteen Years Ago

  "Son, I want to show you something," Boris said.

  I remember following him into the large space of his office as he perched himself on the edge of his cherry-wood desk.

  "This is a family," he stated plainly. I remember his strong eyes daring me to not interrupt and to let him finish. So I stayed quiet. "We take care of our own. We work together, and it's because of this loyalty we remain unscathed to the ways of the outside world."

  I stood there, rigid, back straight with both hands clasped tightly behind my back and nodded. Then he grabbed a letter opener resembling a knife and played with it between his fingers.

  He said, "There's a way to how this all works, and I'd like to see you become a made man soon."

  "A made man?" I questioned.

  "Yes...Bratva."

  I remember how larger than life he looked stepping closer to the window and overlooking the city. He told me that all of the boys in the house were like his soldiers in training, but that he saw something special in me. That I had great potential. He fed right into my need for validation and for acceptance, and I gobbled it right up.

  I cleared my throat. "Thank you, sir."

  "Before being inducted I'll need you to carry out a few tasks to test your loyalty."

  I stiffened. "I'm very loyal to you." How could I not be? This man had saved Nicholai and I. The life we were leading was heading in one of two directions--jail or the grave.

  He laughed a little, his brow deepening. "Yes, I'm sure you are, but this is all rules and initiation procedures. Since we are not blood-related, it will be required."

  "I see." I wasn't sure what he was asking of me, but I would do whatever it took to prove my worth to this man.

  Boris had a way about himself. Demanding. Domineering. When he entered a room he sucked all the air out and commanded attention. And everyone gave it to him, willingly. Even me.

  He could also be nice and kind. Many times he would help the men who worked for him with whatever he could. Especially if they had wives and families. If someone needed extra money for something, he was always there to give, and give and give. He didn't keep a running tab of debt on his workers, because everyone eventually paid him back. He knew they would. Everyone was too afraid not to.

  He was also a smart man. One who, it wouldn't be until many years later, was always planning. A grandmaster schemer.

  He waved his hand. "Don't worry about any of this tonight, Viktor. I just wanted to make sure this is what you want. There's no turning back."

  Those words echoed through my head.

  No turning back.

  But what did I really have to turn back to? My life was here now in Texas with Boris, Nicholai, and my new brothers.

  When I said yes to Boris, something shifted inside of me. I never looked back on my decision. I wanted to be a made man more than anything. To have the inner secrets and know the inner workings of his organization.

  To be Bratva.

  Boris smiled when I nodded. He poured us both a glass of his most expensive Scotch from the heavy crystal canister he kept in the highest shelf of his liquor cabinet. He even busted out a few cigars, and we smoked and chatted about my former life and growing up in Chicago. He said he wanted to know everything about me, and I was happy to oblige.

  Chapter Thirteen

  VIKTOR

  Kennedy sits down with her plate of food and her full attention on me. She is hanging onto my every word, and for some reason, I feel comfortable sharing my story.

  "From that moment on things changed drastically for me and for Nicholai too. I began my initiation into the Petrov family of the Bratva, with Nicholai by my side. I have never regretted any of it. Life was great. Money, alcohol, women, and respect wherever we went.

  "Boris loved how much Nicholai and I enjoyed the life. We were fearless, ruthless, treated as Gods and it became something I craved day in and day out. Boris taught us many things, and after a while, I noticed he would call on me more than any other. We would spend many hours talking in his office. He also started to confide personal shit with me. Shit, he wasn't even telling his underboss."

  "Why you?"

  "I don't really know that answer. He just saw something in me I guess. It became easy at that point to move up the ranks with him guiding me and Nicholai having my back every step of the way. I was on my way to becoming a made man. I just had one more task to do, and it would be the hardest moment of my life."

  Kennedy takes a swig of orange juice and licks her lips. "Wow, what was it?"

  Darkness washes over me. Thinking about my beginnings brings up both good and bad memories. I can't believe I just told Kennedy my whole fucking life story. It is a code in the Bratva not to share family business, but I just broke the code. I didn't give her the exact details, but I've told her enough. I told her more about my life after Boris than I've told anyone. Dammit, I sleep with her a couple of times and now I'm in here spilling my heart out to this woman.

  It makes me feel weird and...vulnerable, so I grab her hand.

  "I shouldn't have told you all of that," I admit to her. "I definitely can't tell you anymore."

  Her fingers brush through my hair, and I lean into her touch.

  "Then don't," she says sweetly.

  I glance back up at her, our eyes crashing into one another.

  "You've ruined everything," I whisper.

  My hand travels further up her nightshirt to her silky thighs, and I trace over the lace of her soaked panties. Fuck me, she's wet already.

  "You're ruining me, Kennedy."

  She leans over, our lips meeting, and I open myself to her. Our tongues trace along one another, and I realize that without even knowing it, that I've opened my heart to her. I just laid it right there before her, sliced open, bleeding and wounded, and I pray that she is gentle with it.

  I'm in fucking trouble. This was supposed to be a very temporary situation. Now I don't know how I will ever let her go.

  We rise from the table and walk back to my bedroom, down the hallway, both of us connected to one another. I slip a finger past the material of her panties and deep into her. She moans into my mouth, and her knee lands on the bed beside me. Removing my finger, I pull her to straddle my lap, and with both hands on her hip, I grind her down onto me.

  "Feel that? This is how much I wa
nt you. How much you ruin me."

  "Viktor," she moans as her body continues to grind against my hardness.

  I need this. I need her.

  With aggression and deep need, I move Kennedy onto the bed, lying her on her back. I move on top of her and gaze into her hooded eyes.

  "You need to move out," I say. Knowing full well I'm talking shit. I don't want her to go anywhere but that's the problem.

  She grabs a hold of my face. "I agree ."

  I kiss her with all the pain, trust, fear, lust, and any other emotion that is rippling through me causing my skin to burn with heat.

  I am rock hard, and there is no stopping me today. The exhaustion I felt from work last night has disappeared, and the only thing my mind can think about is her. Being so deep inside her. Being fused together as one.

  My hands fly under her nightshirt, ripping the lace of her panties to shreds, tossing it across the room. Her eyes widen at my possessiveness which only fuels me on. She sits up, grabbing the hem of her dress, and slowly lifts it over her head.

  I growl at the sight of her. She takes my breath away as her tits bounce before me, and I can't take much more.

  I quickly drop my pajama pants and boxers. My dick springs forth like an angry bull, and Kennedy licks her lips again when she sees my cock.

  This girl.

  She really will be the death of me. But, right now I'd rather be dead than never get to experience her like this. I'd rather be dead than never hear her moan my name like she's doing right now.

  Her body so ripe and ready for me, makes my cock pulse. I run my dick through her wetness, and she bucks up to grind against me.

  "Such a needy girl," I say gruffly.

  "Please, Viktor," she begs.

  I don't answer her pleas, only sheath my cock with a condom and position myself at her tight entrance.

  I push in slowly, ever so carefully, afraid to hurt her. We had a rough session of lovemaking last night.

  "Are you ok?" I ask.

  Her eyes pop open. "Since when do you care about whether it hurts or not?"