Collared by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 11)

by Hayley Faiman

  I give him the show he craves. I ride the saddle, my body bowing as my hips roll and jerk. After a few breaths, the camera he’s holding, the pressure of being a perfect pet for him, it all disappears as desire fills my entire body, from the inside out.

  “Are you close?” he asks, his jaw sounding clenched.

  I let out a loud exhale, lifting my head to look into his eye. “I am. May I have permission to come, Master?”

  He chuckles, clucking his tongue, his eyes traveling down my body, then back up to my face. “No,” he smirks. He looks devilish, sexy—mine. I grind against the saddle, my pussy wet and making a mess, I’m sure of it, but I don’t care.

  “Hold back,” he demands. He moves, standing to his feet and guides the camera closer. “Now, krasotka. Show me your beauty, come.”

  My entire body begins to convulse, shaking almost violently as my pussy and ass clamp down around both vibrators and I come with a low groan.

  SERGEI

  I didn’t plan on doing anything other than watch her come against the cowgirl saddle, but that thought, that desire has vanished and has been replaced. I need to be inside of her. I need to feel the velvet of her cunt wrapping around me, squeezing me as she comes again—and she will come again.

  Unbuckling my pants, I shove them down my thighs along with my boxers. Reaching forward, I wrap my hands around her waist and pick her up, dragging her toward the edge of the bed while she’s still lost in the throes of her ecstasy.

  Filling her with my cock, I pause once I’m completely seated inside of her. Sliding my hand up her belly, I stop at the chain that’s dangling between her tits. Wrapping my fingers around it, I tug gently. She gasps, her eyes opening, and I swear to fucking God there has never been a woman more beautiful than Raisa in this moment.

  I move inside of her, my thrusts becoming brutal as I pound into her yielding body, her accepting body. Thank fuck this woman was kidnapped for me, given to me. I’ve been living a life of dull nothingness without her. She’s somehow filled me with hope, desire, and fucking color.

  Releasing the chain between her breasts, I slide my hand up the rest of her chest and wrap my fingers around the column of her thin throat. My hips don’t stop moving, my cock filling her over and over, enjoying the way she soaks me, creating a beautiful mess.

  I squeeze her pale throat, enjoying the way her face turns a pretty shade of pink. Releasing her neck, she sucks in a deep breath, before I do it one more time, then slip my hand between us. I pinch her clit which causes her to shiver beneath me. I do it again, leaning forward and press my lips against her ear.

  “Come, krasotka,” I whisper.

  Her body bucks and she sighs as her orgasm takes hold of her. I can feel her pussy squeeze me, her wetness dripping down my balls. My back tingles and I know that I’m close myself. After a few thrusts, I close my eyes allowing my own climax to surface. I bury myself deep inside of her and let out a roar as I finally come.

  She’s panting, her eyes wide as she attempts to catch her breath, sliding my arms beneath her back, I pull her up from the mattress, pressing her naked chest against my own. I can feel her anal plug vibrating as she moans, her head lolling to the side, obviously her body is still very much ready even if she isn’t emotionally.

  Moving my head forward, I run my nose along her jawline, up to her ear. “Are you hungry for dinner now?” I ask.

  She hums, rolling her hips as her nails dig into my shoulders where she’s holding onto me. I relish the feeling; the way she holds onto me as though her life depends on it. I don’t allow women to hold me often, but this feels natural—right.

  I run my fingertips slowly up and down her spine, feeling her soft skin, and wondering how anyone could ever sell or mistreat this gentle woman, this pet that is perfectly submissive in every way. Both naturally and taught. I can tell the difference between her practiced moves, and her natural ones, especially when I’m buried deep inside of her.

  “If you are, my master,” she breathes, her hips moving and a small moan escaping her lips.

  I hum, that was practiced, she isn’t hungry, at least not for food. I could hold her off, punish her for her obvious showed desires. But I don’t. Lifting my head from her ear, I press my lips against the corner of her mouth.

  “After dinner, we’ll have some more fun. You’ve been such a good little pet since I brought you here. I think tonight you’ll be rewarded a bit,” I say.

  Moving one of my hands, I switch the vibrator off between her cheeks and gently tug it out, hearing her gasp as it leaves her body. I chuckle as I slip from her center, mourning the loss of her warm heat.

  I lean down, pulling my slacks back over my hips before I go about gathering the toys from our play. I set them on top of the dresser while Raisa watches me from the bed. Panya will clean them tomorrow, she knows anything left on the dresser is for her to disinfect.

  A knock sounds on the door and I make my way over, opening it to see the chef on the other side with my earlier ordered dinner. Once the tray is set down, he leaves, keeping his eyes away from the bed the entire time, because he’s fucking smart.

  “Come and eat, Raisa,” I demand. She makes a little noise and looks from the bathroom to the food. “You can clean up later. I want to see my cum in your body for a while longer.”

  Her eyes widen, but she can’t hide the small smile that plays on her lips. She sinks down to the floor and quickly crawls toward me, sitting back on her heels once she’s reached my feet. “Spread your knees, krasotka,” I demand. She does, and I smile as her cheeks pink.

  Picking up a piece of rye bread, I slide it between her thighs. She gasps but stays quiet. Once I’ve gathered my cum on the bread, I place it on her lips. Her lips automatically part, and I slip the bread onto her tongue.

  “Eat, Raisa,” I demand. She does, chewing the food as her gaze stays connected to mine.

  Sitting at my feet, her hair mussed from fucking, her pussy dripping with my cum, her nipples clamped and her neck red from my grip, she looks like everything I’ve ever dreamed.

  A true heaven on earth.

  My Raisa.

  We spend the next thirty minutes eating in silence. Once we’re finished, and she’s eaten all of my cum from her pussy, I stand looking down at her, she waits for me. Like the good girl she is—she waits.

  “I hate these black cuffs,” I announce, looking down at the base of her neck, her wrists, and her ankles. She blinks, her mouth dropping open slightly. Leaving her, I walk over to the bag that I’d dropped just inside of the door when I arrived.

  Lifting it up, I walk over to the bed, jerking my chin in that direction, waiting for her to follow. Once she’s at the foot of the bed, sitting back on her heels. I can’t contain my grin.

  Fucking breathtakingly perfect.

  Taking the items out of the bag, I set them on the mattress. They are wrapped in tissue paper and I quickly uncover them. There sitting in front of me is a chrome covered, Cleopatra collar with a ring in the middle, chrome covered ankle and wrist cuffs with rings, and a brand new set of nipple clamps. They are a step up from the black, but not what I truly desire to see on her.

  Reaching down, I remove all of her cuffs, then remove the tweezer clamps from her nipples. She lets out a whimper when I do, and my gaze zeros in on her sweet red buds. I want to crouch down, take those nipples between my teeth and bite each of them. I don’t. Right now isn’t the time for it.

  “These are your new collar and cuffs. They are a step up from what I originally gave you as a reward for being so good. You’ve not caused me any issues, and you’ve always been extremely willing and able to please me, Raisa. One day you will get more, but remember this is about earning trust,” I explain.

  It only takes me a few minutes to attach her cuffs and collar, but I hold the new nipple clamps in my hand debating on what I will do. I pocket them, deciding to attach them in the morning before I leave for work. Tomorrow will be a lesson on restraint for my little, Raisa.<
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  CHAPTER EIGHT

  RAISA

  Last night I hardly slept. My body was extremely satisfied, but my mind would not quiet. I spent the entire evening curled up on my pillow beneath the bed, admiring my new wrist cuffs. They are the most beautiful cuffs I’ve ever had. When I took a shower last night, I gasped at the sight of what Master calls my Cleopatra collar. It’s stunning. It’s thick chrome that wraps around my neck but dips down my chest in the middle. I’ve never felt so pretty.

  In the light of day, nothing has changed, they’re still beautiful. I hear the door open and I assume that it is the chef or maid entering so I stay curled in my ball. I don’t mind either one of them, they leave me alone, but I would rather stay here in the safety of my cage, instead of attempting to interact with them.

  “Krasotka,” Master’s deep voice calls and my spine straightens.

  I immediately rise to my hands and knees before I begin crawling forward to the entrance of my cage. He’s there, his hair damp from his shower, and his blue eyes smiling at me. He looks absolutely delicious. My belly and pussy simultaneously clench at the sight of him.

  “Come out, Raisa,” he murmurs.

  He stands, and I slowly crawl out from beneath the bed. Once I’m in front of his shiny expensive black shoes, I sit back on my knees and heels, tipping my head back to look up at him. He’s still smiling as he reaches out, cupping my cheek. Like the deprived woman I am, I lean into his touch, sighing at the simple warmth of his hand.

  “Stand for me, Raisa,” he softly demands.

  I haven’t stood in days, I haven’t needed to unless going to the bathroom or to shower. When I do rise to my feet, it feels odd, foreign and I frown finding that I don’t particularly like standing in front of him anymore.

  He chuckles, reaching into his pocket. “My little pet likes her place at my feet, doesn’t she?”

  Any other woman would feel his words are condescending, assuredly. I, however, don’t. I know that it comes from a different place inside of him, a caring place.

  “I do,” I admit.

  He releases my face and a few moments later has attached small clamps to my nipples. They aren’t like the ones from last night with the tweezers, they screw in and the tension comes from tightening or loosening the screws. I gasp when I hear something clink against the base of the clamp.

  “Weights,” Master explains. He attaches two small magnet weights to the end of each clamp and my pussy clenches with need just from the new heavy sensation. “Don’t touch yourself today, Raisa. I will be watching you.”

  My eyes pop open at his words and I almost whimper, but I hold it in, barely. He lifts his hand, his finger reaching out to trace my bottom lip. His eyes stay connected with mine and he searches them. I don’t know what he’s looking for, I never do, but I hope whatever it is, he finds it in me.

  “Be a good girl today, and I will reward you,” he promises.

  “I will, Master,” I breathe.

  He winks, reaching down and tugs on one of my clamps. I’m unable to hold back a moan which causes him to laugh. Bending down, his mouth brushes mine and my eyes close. I relish in his soft lips, wishing he would take me right here, right now.

  “Soon I’ll take you outside. You can see the grounds,” he rasps against my mouth. “This weekend. I’ll take Saturday off. We’ll make a day of it,” he offers.

  The smile on my lips appears immediately. “I would love that,” I breathe.

  He chuckles, taking a step back and then walks past me. Turning around, I watch him go, almost swooning at the sight of his ass in his perfectly tailored pants. “Tonight’s instructions. I want you on the spanking bench for me, on your hands and knees straddling it and waiting for me to hook your wrists and ankles to it.”

  My thighs shake with anticipation of what is to come tonight. I glance back at the bed, then the closed door. It hasn’t escaped my notice that he hasn’t slept in here past the second night of my arrival. Though I don’t sleep next to him, I do miss him.

  I frown. I’ve always enjoyed my solitude from my master, except with this one, I don’t want it. I want to be with him always, next to him at all times, even just to sleep beneath his bed, or kneel at his feet. I don’t know what that could mean, except that I’m falling for him.

  Walking over to the table and chairs, I slowly sink down into the seat and think. The door opens a few minutes later and I’m face to face with the chef. He blinks, unused to seeing me out of my cage. He walks over to me, setting the tray down in front of me, but lingers instead of leaving.

  “Are you well, madam?” he asks, his eyes traveling to my clamped nipples and then back up to my face.

  I tilt my head to the side, wondering if this is a test. I wonder, but it doesn’t matter. I have no desire to play any games, to be tested. I am happy right where I am, and my answer would be the same if he were truly asking, or if he were testing me for Master.

  “I am very well, thank you,” I say, keeping my voice low and soft.

  He nods, his brows knitting together. He opens his mouth but promptly snaps it closed when the door opens. “You are not supposed to chat to our new lady of the house,” the maid snaps.

  The chef straightens his spine and hurries out the door. The maid shakes her head. “He’s a good man, which is why he was concerned. Mr. Sergei has never kept a companion before, he is probably afraid you’re here against your will, you aren’t though, are you?” she asks.

  “No. I’m not,” I agree.

  She smiles, it’s kind, almost motherly and I relax, feeling comfortable around her. “I’m Panya,” she introduces.

  “Raisa,” I offer.

  She starts picking up the room, and I watch with warm cheeks as she takes the toys we used last night to the bathroom. I hear the water running and I turn to my breakfast, deciding to busy myself with food. The meal is fit for a queen, something that I’m not quite used to yet, but I’m becoming more comfortable with as each day passes.

  “I think that the two of you fit one another well,” Panya babbles as she brings the clean objects back and places them in their proper place.

  I feel like I should be the one to clean and put the toys away, after all, I am the one they were used on. I decide to make a mental note and ask Master about it later.

  “Mr. Sergei has an extra pep in his step lately, I can be honest with you since it’s just us girls,” she continues rambling.

  I’m frozen on the name she’s used, a second time.

  Mr. Sergei.

  My master’s name is Sergei.

  It fits him to perfection. It is absolutely him.

  My master. My Sergei.

  “He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him, Miss Raisa. Thank you for doing that for him. Thank you for taking a piece of the darkness from his soul.”

  She doesn’t allow me to respond, she leaves the room immediately. I couldn’t respond anyway, because she’s left me completely speechless.

  SERGEI

  The room is dark, the men in front of me dirty, broken, and a bit depressing looking. They’re begging, pleading for their lives, but it falls on deaf ears. I do not care if they live or die. I only care about their loyalty and their compliance.

  The men are both against the wall, their bodies disheveled, dirty, and their eyes exhausted. “The most important person in your life is?”

  The younger one, Tasher sobs. Zeno’s shoulders attempt to square. “The Bratva. My brothers. You, Boss,” he states.

  There’s a spark in his eyes, he’s playing me, he isn’t broken, but I like his spirit. He reminds me of Radimir when I found him. The boy who offered to suck my cock for coin. The boy who was trying to make it in the world without being trampled on.

  I move my feet forward, toward him. He holds my gaze, his eyes telling me everything that I need to know about him. He is very much his sister’s brother. The other boy, he’s younger, he’s not as strong. He’s already been broken. He’ll be a nice asset to the organization bu
t this one, the eldest, he will one day be a leader.

  “Take the younger one, he’s ready for the next step,” I announce, keeping my eyes on Zeno.

  He lifts his chin, his eyes following his brother’s disappearance as he’s being dragged off by one of my soldiers.

  “Will you hurt him?”

  I tilt my head to the side, searching him. He suddenly looks extremely defeated. “Did you question your parents’ decision when they took your sisters?” I ask.

  He lifts his eyes to me, water shining in them, clearly on the verge of tears. “I was only twelve,” he grinds out.

  I nod, trying not to judge the man, as he was only a child. I want to. Make no mistake, I want every single person involved in Raisa’s abuse to suffer tremendously. However, a child is not to blame for the sins of his parents.

  “You want to be Bratva? For what reason, to what avail?”

  He bends his knees, bringing them up closer to him as he lets his head fall back against the brick wall. “I want money. I want power. But I need freedom,” he sighs.

  I bark out a harsh laugh which causes him to lift his head and look into my eyes. “You will not find freedom here. You will find yourself shackled to me, to this organization, and at some point, you’ll be imprisoned.”

  He shakes his head. “Freedom from my parents. They didn’t work, me and my brother, we brought in the only income they had. They sold our sisters, bought that house outright and wasted the rest of their money. I’m tired of working for them, giving them everything,” he explains.

  “You work for me, you never give them a penny,” I nod.

  He couldn’t even if he wanted to, but he doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know I went back and killed them, almost gleefully. The world needed to be rid of those pieces of shit. I did the Russian people a goddamn favor.

  “Do you vow to be loyal to the Bratva? We are your family now. The only people you have to answer to,” I explain.