I let out an involuntary moan as my hands fly to his hair, and my fingers grip the strands tightly. He groans before his tongue fills my pussy. It’s so warm, so wet, and feels so good that I can’t help but let my entire body sag and accept what he’s giving me.
His mouth moves back to my clit, and I feel his tongue as it flicks me. I cry out when he slips a finger into my slick center. He makes a come hither motion inside of me, and it causes my eyes to widen in surprise. “Oh, Fei,” I gasp, causing him to grunt.
I thrash from side to side, unsure of what’s happening inside of my body, but knowing that I’m on the crest of something that feels like I might actually explode. I whimper and tug on Timofei’s hair. Then my entire body tightens as I feel something uncurl inside of me and release.
Crying out in surprise, my eyes widen and I focus on Timofei. He’s looking at me through his lashes, with his mouth still between my thighs.
When I finally have my faculties, I relax the grip I held on his hair. He presses his lips to the inside of my thigh as he removes his finger from my center.
“So beautiful when you come, devochka,” he murmurs as he positions himself between my thighs.
I feel the head of his cock at my center, and I lift my hands to wrap around his biceps. “Now you’re going to be beautiful and come on my cock,” he grunts as he fills me.
I cry out in pain as he stretches me. I was right. He’s big. Too big. My entire body shakes, and he looks down at me, concern filling his eyes. “Relax, devochka,” he murmurs as his head lowers and he presses his warm lips against mine.
My eyes water the further he pushes inside of me. I bite down on my bottom lip, and pinch my eyes closed, trying to keep from crying out in pain. Then I feel Timofei’s nose slide along mine, all the way up my cheek and temple, until his mouth is at my ear.
“Relax for me,” he whispers in my ear. His warm breath washes over me just as I feel one of his hands at my breast, kneading my flesh before he tugs on my nipple.
My body starts to relax slowly. I feel him slip a little further inside of me, eliciting a groan from his throat as he rises to his knees and lifts his head to look into my eyes.
I like how focused he is on me; and though it still feels uncomfortable, I find myself getting lost in the depths of his eyes. He’s seen a lot, I can tell, and he’s not hiding it all from me like he could.
I see pain and sorrow in his gaze. I see guilt—so much guilt. Reaching up, I wrap my hand around the side of his neck, and it’s as if the simple touch breaks whatever spell that was letting me see inside of him. His face goes blank, and he gives me a smirk before he pulls almost completely out of me and then thrusts back inside. He’s firm, but not too hard.
“Fei,” I gasp when he does it again.
One of his hands slides down to my waist and grips me tightly while the other is propped beside my head. He tips his chin down and watches our connection, causing a blush to heat my neck and face. Timofei hums as he starts to move a little faster. “Can you touch yourself for me, devochka?” he asks, lifting his head slightly, not breaking his rhythm.
Shaking my head, I feel my face heating even more as he grins at me. His hand moves from my waist, and I feel his thumb press against my clit. I arch my back, throwing my head against the pillow and crying out at the new sensation. It feels too good, like too much, and yet I want more.
“Goddamn, Devyn. Come on my cock. You’re too fucking tight. I can’t last much longer,” he growls.
I whimper, “I can’t. Fei, I can’t.”
Timofei growls, and then there is a twinge of pain on my clit. It causes me to have that same release as before, except it’s faster and stronger. I lift my legs and wrap them around his hips as my eyes pop open and I lift my head. “Fuck yes,” he growls before his lips crash against mine and his thrusts become erratic, wild, hard, and uneven.
He moves his hand from between us to wrap at the back of my head. His fingers are unable to tangle in my hair, as it’s pinned back. His lips press against mine, warm and frim before his tongue teases my lips.
When I open my mouth, he slips his tongue inside me with a long moan. I swallow all of his grunts as he starts to ram into me, hard and fast. His movements are hurried and erratic before he rips his lips from mine and throws back his head with a long moan.
I keep my eyes open and watch him. His throat is in my view, and I take in every part of him that I can see. He arches back as his moan fills the room, and I feel him grow inside of me for only a second before he fills me with his release. He then lowers his face and gives me a lopsided grin, making him look almost boyish.
Timofei’s hips continue to lazily pump in and out of me, his grin in place and his eyes on mine as he moves his hand from the back of my head to the side of my neck. I know my eyes must be wide and surprised as his thumb presses against my slightly parted lips. His grin fades and a serious look overcomes his features.
“Mine, devochka moya. You’re mine now,” he murmurs as his eyes search my face.
Devyn and I clean up after our wedding night coupling. It feels wrong to call what we did a fuck, and yet it isn’t love making, either. I don’t love her, and she doesn’t love me. We were joined in a contractual agreement.
I have a year to knock her up or all bets are off with her father’s continued alliance with the Bratva. We need him and his group’s support more now than ever. Especially since the minute my honeymoon is complete it’s time for me to take over. It’s time for me to rid the Bratva of my father’s reign. I have a feeling it will get messier and bloodier than I wish for it to be.
I watch my new wife as she roots through one of her bags and pulls out a white negligée, slipping it over her curvy body before she returns back to the bathroom. I slide beneath the sheets of our hotel bed and take my phone out to check my messages. Tonight may be my wedding night, but that doesn’t mean that I am allotted to take a break from my duties.
There’s a text message from Konstantin, my voice on the inside and my father’s newly most trusted man.
K: Boss says he’s going to be taking a trip to France, check up on you during your honeymoon. No news on dates/flights. Let you know when I know.
Thank you. Keep me posted. I reply.
I practically growl and squeeze my phone tightly. That fuck. That fucking fuck. That micromanaging fuck. Getting out from beneath my father and living in Denver for the past few years was the best thing I ever did.
It took me a while to clear my head, to stop being angry about my mother’s death, and to clean my shit up from drugs and booze. Once I was clean, sober, and finally fucking awake, I started seeing life, the Bratva, and my father in a completely different light.
My father thinks he’s a dictator. He thinks he’s in fucking charge of the entire organization. He proved that when he forced my sister to marry a man who betrayed the Bratva. Then he ordered a hit on her new husband, a Brigadier, after he forced him to jump through a bunch of hoops to stay with her.
I don’t know what kind of foolishness he’s up to now, but I don’t like it. He’s the reason we’re in bed with the Irish; and while I don’t mind it so much right now, and being joined with them will benefit us, it wasn’t my choice to wed my wife for an alliance.
“Timofei, is there anything else you want before bed?” a soft voice calls out from the bathroom doorway.
I look up in confusion and see Devyn standing there. She’s got her white negligée on, and her black hair is long, with big curls hanging down around her elbows. She looks like a goddamn dream, and my cock begins to grow at the sight of her. The slip she’s got on highlights the curves of her body and leaves her legs, which are long for her short frame, on display for me.
“Just you, devochka,” I grunt.
Her eyes widen and she walks on shaky legs toward the bed, turning the lights off as she comes. I flip the lamp on next to my bed so that she doesn’t trip on anything on her way. Her breathing is labored and heavy as she climbs bet
ween the sheets.
Before she can lay down, I wrap my hands around her waist and drag her over to me, forcing her to straddle my hips. I know when she’s felt my erection because her eyes widen and she sucks in a gasp of air.
“Your pussy sore?” I murmur, slipping my hands up her thighs and under her negligée to grasp onto her hips.
She bites her bottom lip, and I watch as she wages a war inside of her head. This woman wants to please me, wants to be perfect for me. I’m sure she was given instructions on being a perfect wife, so I’m curious as to what she’ll say.
There’s more than some meek, weak minded woman beneath her exterior. I have a feeling that there’s fire, and I want it.
I want all of her.
“A little,” she whispers.
I know that she’s lying. It hurts more than a little. I press my thumbs against her hips, massaging her gently.
“Don’t lie to me, Devyn. If you hurt, you hurt. I don’t want to fuck you when you’re in pain. I want you to enjoy yourself when I’m inside of you, devochka.” I don’t miss the way her eyes widen when I say the word fuck, and I instantly regret the harsh term. “Sleep, baby,” I grunt as I release her.
She doesn’t move right away. I leave my hands at my sides and wait for her to slide off of me. She does, but it’s with hesitancy.
Devyn sits next to me but doesn’t lie down. She watches me out of the corner of her eyes, and then she finally speaks. “What about, you, ummm…” she tips her head to my dick, and I chuckle.
“Maybe tomorrow morning, before we head to Paris, you’ll be feeling better. Get some sleep, devochka.”
I watch as she furrows her brow, clearly confused, and then she finally decides to lay down. She rests her black head of thick hair on the pillow before tugging the sheet and blankets up and over her soft body.
Rolling to my side, I wrap my arm around her and tug her close to me. Pressing my lips against the side of her neck, I whisper, “Spokoynoy devochka moya,” against her skin, telling her goodnight.
It takes Devyn far too long to fall asleep. Once she does, her body completely relaxes, and I slip out from underneath her. Grabbing my phone and my underwear, I make my way into the living area of our suite, intent on making a phone call. I take care to close the bedroom door behind me on my way out, so that she doesn’t hear me on the phone.
“How the fuck are you able to talk tonight of all nights?” he asks instead of greeting me with a simple hello.
“Doesn’t matter. We have much to discuss,” I grunt.
“We certainly do. When do you arrive in Paris?”
“We’re leaving New York around noon tomorrow, and that will put us in Paris Monday around six in the morning,” I explain. I fucking hate the travel day because I lose a day, and it throws my entire body’s schedule off every goddamn time.
“Meet me at the café at nine in the morning, Paris time. I’ll send you the address while you’re in the air.” He ends the call, and I let out a long sigh as I walk over to the windows that overlook the city below.
I hope I’m not making a huge fucking mistake. I hope that the people who are claiming that they’ll back me actually do fucking back me. I hope that I can keep my family safe—my brothers in the Bratva but, more importantly, my sister and my nephew.
I hope my new wife doesn’t think I’m a monster when she finds out what I’m willing to do to keep everybody I care about safe. I hope she doesn’t hate me when she realizes the things I must do to keep the Bratva on solid ground and operational.
SOMETHING STARTLES ME AWAKE, and I let out a squeak once I realize what it is. Timofei is behind me, his hard length pressed against the crack of my ass, but that’s not what’s startled me awake.
One of his arms is wrapped around my chest from beneath the bed, and his hand is gripping tightly around my breast. The other hand is between my legs, and I feel one of his fingers gently sliding in and out of me while he kisses the side of my neck.
“Fei,” I exhale, using the name he likes as I slip an arm around the back of his head.
He sucks on my neck and bites down, which causes my entire body to shake a little. Then he slips his thigh between my legs and lifts my top leg with his. I feel open and vulnerable, but he can’t really see anything, so I try not to focus on that.
“How’s your sweet pussy, devochka?” he asks as his palm grinds against my clit.
If my center is sore, I definitely do not feel it right now.
Turning my head, I press my lips to the underside of his jaw. “I’m good,” I whisper against his soft beard.
With a grunt, he pulls his finger out from inside of me and replaces it with his cock. I gasp at the sudden intrusion, the position something I’ve never experienced before. It feels so different.
Timofei presses two fingers against my clit as he starts to thrust inside of me, his hold tightening around my breasts as he does.
“Goddamn, Devvy, you’re so fucking tight. Made for me, devochka, weren’t you?” he rasps, his voice husky with sleep against my ear.
The nickname. Nobody has ever called me that before. I find that I absolutely love it. He’s my Fei and I’m his Devvy. I think for once in my life, my father has definitely made the right decision for me.
My thighs start to shake and my hips jerk, bucking against him as he starts to thrust harder inside of me. My fingers grip in the back of his hair as I cry out with my climax.
“Fuck,” Timofei roars.
He slams up inside of me so hard that It causes me to whimper. I feel spurts of his release fill me. It dawns on me, stupidly and far too late, that we aren’t using any form of birth control. “What happened?” he murmurs against my shoulder, nipping my skin gently as he stays planted inside of me.
“We haven’t used any birth control. I’m not on anything,” I say, trying to get away from him. He locks his arms around me.
“Devvy, baby,” he murmurs, squeezing me a bit more. “I know you’re not on anything. I’m trying to get you pregnant, devochka.”
My entire body freezes before he pulls out of me and then gathers me in his arms, my chest to his side. He slides one hand up my spine and twists his fingers in my hair as he tugs my neck back so that I’m forced to look at him. His cool blue eyes look into mine, never wavering, strong and steady.
“I don’t understand. We literally just met, Timofei,” I whisper.
He doesn’t say anything, his eyes searching and staying locked on mine at the same time. His brows furrow slightly. “Your father didn’t show you the contract,” he states.
I shake my head, though I don’t have to. It’s obvious to him, for whatever reason, that he didn’t.
“Devvy, you have to be pregnant within a year or there is no contract. You go back to your father, and we lose your family’s support,” he states, concern deep within his voice.
All the air in my lungs completely vanishes. I gasp for breath but nothing happens. Pregnant. I have to get pregnant, immediately. I’m not ready to be a mother. I don’t want to be a mother right now.
My eyes well with tears at the knowledge that this was in my contract. I don’t understand how me having a child right now has anything to do with territories.
I know that my father’s territory is smack dab between two Russian territories, and they lived fairly peacefully until one of my father’s men decided he wanted to take over, bringing the Bratva into a war. But why a baby? What does that have to do with anything?
I shiver, if Timofei doesn’t hold up his end of this ridiculous contract, that means that not only do I go back, but that I’ve shamed my father as well. If I shame my father, there’s no telling what he’ll do to me, or who he’ll ship me off to.
I lift my hand to my neck and hold onto the column of my throat. I have to get pregnant, and fast. I can’t go back to my father, I refuse.
“Talk to me,” he urges. It’s sweet, the concern he has for me.
The only thing I can think about is how my father
will react if I’m not pregnant in a year. What he’ll do to me, where he’ll send me.
Then my mind shifts to the fact that this is a baby, and I’m eighteen, and how the hell am I going to be a wife and a mother all at the same time? I’m still a teenager.
My eyes fill with tears, and I can’t stop them from flowing.
Timofei’s hand in my hair tightens, and he gently, but firmly, tugs my head back a bit before he barks, “Speak to me,” in my face.
“If I don’t have a baby, there’s no telling what he’ll do to me—where he’ll send me. But, Fei, I’m only eighteen. I don’t even know how to be a wife, let alone a mother,” I whisper as the tears continue to flow down my cheeks.
He grins and shakes his head slightly. “Shh, don’t worry over it, devochka. You’re mine, remember? It will all be all right,” he coos as he wraps his arms around me.
I shove my face into his neck and cry a little more as his hands soothingly run up and down my back. The ringing of our hotel phone interrupts my crying, and I watch as Timofei reaches for it.
“We’re leaving at noon,” he practically growls. “Everybody? Papa?” he asks. “See you in an hour,” he grumbles then turns to me. “My sister, her husband, and about twenty other people have decided they’d like to have brunch with us downstairs. There’s no telling them no, Devvy. We meet in thirty minutes,” he announces. He grins and then rolls out of bed, standing with his back to me, completely naked.
I exhale at the sight of his tattooed back. He turns his neck, craning his head to look at me in question. “I didn’t know you had so many tattoos. It was dark last night,” I murmur.
“Stupid shit I did as a kid to look cool. My papa has reminded me more than once that I’ve yet to earn most of them,” he shrugs.
I tip my head to the side in question, not understanding his comment about earning the tattoos.
“Is there anything the Irish have to show the deeds they’ve done in the organization?” he asks.
Betrothed to the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 8) Page 4
