Russian Mafia Boss's Heir

by Bella Rose

  “Tori, please,” Mikhail said in a low, urgent voice. “Don’t cause a scene. You’re not helping matters by being difficult.”

  “I’m being difficult?” She gave a bitter laugh. “You’re just like Stanislas. You know that? You should make the perfect successor because you have no mind of your own.”

  A deadly sort of expression crossed Mikhail’s features.

  Tori froze, realizing that she might have gotten a little carried away. She was essentially challenging her husband in public. She was pushing him into a corner where he had no choice but to save face.

  His hand shot out, grabbing her by the throat. He didn’t choke her, but he scared the hell out of her. Tori clawed at his arm. She wanted him to let go, but he didn’t.

  “Don’t. Move.” He was snarling his words between clenched teeth. “Dimitri is going to take you home. You will wait there for me to decide your punishment. Do you understand?”

  She could feel every single pair of eyes within the casino staring at her.

  Embarrassment and humiliation made her cheeks burn as Tori barely managed a nod. She couldn’t meet his eyes or anyone else’s. Nor did she want to. At this point, all she wanted was to go home.

  ***

  MIKHAIL WATCHED TORI stumble toward the exit with Dimitri close behind her. Dimitri would make certain she made it safely home with no further incident.

  Once they were out of sight, Mikhail turned back to Antonin Orlov.

  “What did you want with my wife?” Mikhail demanded. “And don’t give me some bullshit story about renewing family ties. You and your men have been frequenting this place for the last two weeks. Why? Have you been hoping to run into Tori? Is that your game?”

  Antonin gave Mikhail an insolent once over, his gaze raking Mikhail from top to bottom before he bothered to answer. “That is a lot of questions you have.”

  “I want answers.” Mikhail was reminded that in truth, Antonin Orlov was the same rank within his own mafiya family as Mikhail was within the Vasiliev organization. This did not bode well for Mikhail.

  “You should take care how you treat my cousin,” Antonin murmured. “She is a strong willed woman, much like her mother.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Mikhail tried again. He needed answers, something to present to Stanislas before the man lost his mind to paranoid delusions about what the Orlovs were planning. If Mikhail could get something concrete, it might stop the open speculation.

  “The old man,” Antonin began in Russian. “Is he getting more and more paranoid?”

  Mikhail didn’t answer. It would have been the height of stupidity to reveal something like that.

  “It does not surprise me.” The other man shrugged. “He was always ever paranoid about those who might be destined to take his place.”

  “What?” Mikhail frowned. What was Orlov talking about? It made no sense. “Every boss in the Bratva must declare a successor.”

  “And yet inexplicably, so many of those same successors seem to meet with an early death. Or perhaps the boss dies as soon as he announces the line of succession.” Antonin shrugged, lifting a glass of whiskey to his lips. “It is all one big wait for death. Don’t you think?”

  “I think you’re talking in circles,” Mikhail growled. “Get out of my casino and don’t come back.”

  “Now that’s not hospitable at all.” Antonin made a clucking noise with his tongue. “And to think you’re less than four weeks into your tour of duty as the heir of the Vasiliev.” Now Antonin was openly mocking Mikhail. “Imagine how the anxiety will eat at you for the next twenty years while you wait for that old man to wither and die. Assuming you last.” He patted Mikhail on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m going.”

  Mikhail was left to stare after the other man, wondering what he could be referring to. Stanislas had never declared an heir before. At least, not as far as Mikhail knew, and he had been part of the Vasiliev syndicate for more than ten years. What secrets had Stanislas been keeping, and how could Mikhail find out without making the old man even more paranoid?

  Chapter Eleven

  Tori wasn’t just pissed off. She was livid. She had never thought of herself as the type of woman to get bossed around or manhandled by anyone, let alone the man she had married. If Mikhail thought he was going to treat her like that on a regular basis, he needed to know right now that she wasn’t going to stand for it.

  She paced big circles inside the master suite at Mikhail’s house. Finally, she flung open the balcony doors and stomped out there for a change of scenery.

  It was cool outside. Fall was well on its way, and the air had a distinct chill that sent a wave of goosebumps over Tori’s skin. She walked toward the big stone railing that encircled the cozy balcony. There was a lounge chair out here. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Mikhail sitting out here sunbathing or taking in the air. Maybe he’d gotten the chair for one of his girlfriends.

  That led to thoughts of whether or not Mikhail had treated his other women with the same callous disregard that he had for her. She reached up and touched her throat. He hadn’t physically hurt her, but the memory of his humiliating grab of her throat in a public place before a crowd of people stung all the same. This wasn’t the sort of relationship she wanted. Tears filled her eyes, and she swiped them away, feeling pathetic. The moon was out and the world outside looked like a fairyland, and she was stuck here with some jerk who wanted to publicly manhandle her when she wouldn’t obey his every order regardless of whether or not she thought he was being reasonable.

  A door opened somewhere behind her. She heard heavy footsteps on the carpet and then boots on the stone floor of the balcony. Mikhail appeared beside her. She appreciated the fact that he was at least attempting to keep his distance. She didn’t want to be close to him. Or that was what she kept telling herself. But she had an unbelievably strong urge to cry and plead and demand to know why he had treated her so badly. This wasn’t what she had wanted. She’d just wanted his attention. Didn’t he know that?

  “Why would you go to the casino?” Mikhail asked quietly.

  She swallowed. She had to make her stand now or accept that her relationship was heavily skewed in favor of Mikhail’s power. “What do you care? You’re never here. You’ve forgotten you even have a wife. What should it matter to you if I go out with my friends and have fun? Am I supposed to wander around this house by myself for the rest of my life?” She turned and glared at him “Do you even know what that’s like? This isn’t my home. It’s yours. I’m basically just a guest here. And you can’t even be bothered to share a meal with me, or take a walk, or go out and do—well, anything! You’re too busy for a wife, Mikhail. So why shouldn’t your wife enjoy living on her own?”

  ***

  MIKHAIL BLINKED SEVERAL times and tried to process all of the information she’d just thrown at him. He was busy at work. That was true enough. “You know, I don’t enjoy being at your stepfather’s beck and call.”

  “Then stop.”

  She made it sound so simple. Mikhail stood before the railing, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the hard, slightly rough surface. “It isn’t that easy. There’s something happening, and I don’t know what. Stanislas has been running all over town checking this, double checking that, and basically satisfying his paranoia.”

  Tori lifted one slender shoulder in a very feminine shrug. “So grow a pair of balls, or let him run you ragged for the next twenty years. It’s your choice, but you don’t get to treat me like shit just because you’re experiencing job dissatisfaction.”

  His temper flared red hot. It was the same as it had been in the casino when she’d openly defied him. He clenched his hand reflexively. Why did she seem so determined to provoke him?

  Mikhail sucked in a deep breath. “Are you trying to get a rise out of me?”

  She turned toward him, resting her hip against the railing and crossing her arms over her chest. The long, cotton lounge shirt she wore barely reached the middle
of her thighs. He could see that she wore no bra. Her nipples were puckered beneath the light fabric. Mikhail felt a flair of something that was not anger, but was still just as powerful. Lust.

  “No.” She bit the word out as if she were flinging it at him. “I’m not trying to get a rise out of you. I’m just trying to get your attention!”

  Her words made something snap inside him. Mikhail reached out and grabbed her upper arms. He dragged her close. Lowering his mouth to hers, he didn’t stop to see if she was going to protest. He possessed her mouth in a hot kiss that rocked his entire world. She tasted exquisite, wild and untamed, and every bit as sexy as he remembered.

  Tori made tiny noises in the back of her throat, but she didn’t fight him. Instead, she wound her arms around his neck and pushed herself closer. She undulated against him. The length of her torso pressed against his chest, and he felt the hardness of her nipples through the soft cotton of her lounge shirt.

  Mikhail broke away, practically rabid with the need to be inside her. “I’m going to fuck you, Tori. Right here. And you’re going to let me.”

  “Yes!” she moaned. “Take me hard, Mikhail. Now.”

  He had been gentle with her the first time. But this time his control was too ragged for him to care. He slung her around and pushed her up against the balcony railing. Her hands caught, and he felt her bend over as if she were willingly presenting herself for his pleasure.

  ***

  TORI FELT LIKE some animal in the wild. This was what she wanted...for Mikhail to lose that formidable control and give in to whatever it was he was feeling. Tori didn’t care what the outcome would be. Mostly because she had a feeling she was about to have the most spectacular sex of her life.

  She gripped the railing. The rough stone grated on her palms, but the tiny pinpricks of pain only served to heighten her awareness of everything else. Mikhail roughly pulled the long tail of her shirt up over her buttocks. She spread her feet wider to accommodate him and arched her back. She wanted him to see what he was getting. She wanted him to know how wet she was. Taking her like this with no preamble and no foreplay, it was rough and raw and she liked it. This was what she wanted, to know that Mikhail wanted her so much that he would do anything to sink his cock inside her body.

  “Such a horny girl.” Mikhail’s tone was like gravel. “Look at you. I’m going to take you here in front of anyone who might be watching from a window, and you’re begging me to do it.”

  “Yes, please!” she panted.

  He delved between her nether cheeks. As soon as his fingers brushed her wet slit, she whimpered with the need to come. Mikhail made a deep noise of appreciation and then kneaded her ass cheeks in his palms. The motion spread her wide, putting pressure on the slick folds of her pussy and making her squirm because she wanted so badly to be penetrated.

  “Mikhail!” she moaned.

  There was a jingle. The sound of his belt, then the zipper closure of his pants, and finally she felt the probing of his cock head against her wet opening. She clenched her inner muscles, loving the friction of his body pushing into hers.

  He didn’t go slowly this time. Mikhail slammed his cock deep inside Tori’s body until his balls were pressed against her ass. He backed out and slammed in again. The rhythm was hard and fast. She came almost instantaneously. Rocking her hips, she pushed back against him and reveled in the raw, primal feel of this incredible sensation.

  “Fuck me,” she begged. “Harder!”

  He grabbed her hips until his fingers dug into the soft flesh at her waist. Holding her motionless, Mikhail began to pound her pussy as though he intended to embed himself inside her for good. Thrust after thrust until there was nothing for Tori but the feel of his body slapping against hers. The scent of sex filled the air. She felt his sweat coat her skin and was glad. He was finally, truly making her his woman, and it was long overdue.

  ***

  MIKHAIL WAS SO very close to his climax. He felt the telltale burn in his balls and the sensation of liquid fire dripping down the backs of his legs. Every nerve in his body was on hyper alert. He held Tori’s hips in his hands and thrust deeply into her pussy. The way her flesh yielded to his was perfection. Each stroke sent the head of his cock deep inside her body until he felt it kiss the sweet spot that drove her so wild.

  She squirmed and writhed beneath him. Holding her still, he pounded into her some more. He felt her pussy spread open, the soft folds caressing his shaft as he entered and exited her slick opening. She was so damn wet. He’d never had a woman so wet and ready for him. It was as if she’d been made for him to fuck. This was what he’d been missing in his life. This was his woman, his wife, and he was going to take her over and over until she knew exactly who she belonged to.

  Mikhail’s balls tightened between his legs. He felt himself beginning to rise toward his climax. He reached around Tori’s hip and found her pussy with his fingers. He roughly spread her swollen nether lips and found the nub hidden within. She bucked against him, and he used his other hand to slap her ass.

  “Keep still,” he ordered. “You’re going to come with me. I want to feel that pussy squeeze me as tight as it can.”

  She whimpered, and he fondled her clit until he felt the incredible sensation of her orgasm coming fast and hard. Tori cried out, and Mikhail let go at the same moment. He shoved his cock as far inside her as he dared and felt himself ejaculate. The ultimate relief of the act was the best he’d ever experienced. He shut his eyes and convulsed as he poured every bit of his seed into her welcoming body. If he were lucky, she would conceive and Stanislas could stop nagging him on that point.

  Mikhail backed out, pulling his softening cock free of Tori’s pussy. He gazed at his wife in satisfaction, loving that she stood there trembling and holding onto the railing as if she were about to fall over.

  He plucked her off her feet, picking her up and carrying her into the bedroom. He set her gently on the bed. After undressing, he got in beside her and closed his eyes. Mikhail felt more at peace in that moment than he had in months.

  “I only wanted your attention,” she whispered. “I knew that pissing you off was about the only way I was going to get you to notice me, but I didn’t expect you to be so mean.”

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.” In hindsight, he did regret getting physical with her. “But never—I mean never—question me in public like that again. In our world, to make me look weak is dangerous. For both of us.”

  “I understand.” She curled up next to him, resting her cheek on his chest. “But if you ever touch me in anger like that again, I’m going to leave, and you’re never going to know where I’ve gone.”

  Her words surprised him, but perhaps they shouldn’t have. She was a strong, independent woman. He’d known that from the start.

  Mikhail gave a grudging sigh. He could give her this one thing. “That’s fair.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Mikhail slid his hand down the length of Tori’s shapely leg. He cupped the firm muscle of her calf and lifted it, spreading her naked legs farther apart in order to change the angle of his penetration. She was wet and hot, the scent of her juices filling his study and soaking into his senses.

  Tori gave a tiny whimper of desperate pleasure. She was on top of his desk. Her fingers clenched the opposite edge of the surface, latching on even as she arched her back and thrust her breasts into the air. Mikhail reveled in the full surrender of his wife. She was his to do with as he pleased.

  He thrust his cock into her pussy once again, making long languid strokes one minute and then slamming into her hard and fast the next. He loved that she didn’t care how hard he gave it to her. She only begged for more. He watched the expression of bliss on her face as she hovered so close to orgasm. The tightness of her inner muscles told him it was close. The friction was unbelievable. Each time his shaft slid into her body, he felt each and every quiver and telltale tremor inside her. She could hide nothing from him. He owned her.

  Continuing
to hold her leg with one hand, he reached down and twisted her nipple with the other. She cried out, her voice echoing around the walls of his study. But it was what she needed. Tori dissolved into orgasm almost immediately. She clenched tightly around his cock and writhed as the undulating contractions of her release caused her to lose control. Finally, Mikhail thrust hard into her softness. He let her milk him of his seed, his body releasing a hot stream of semen into hers and filling her with his essence until he had nothing else to give.

  She was panting, her breasts bobbing and quivering as she struggled to catch her breath. Mikhail backed out and pulled his cock free. He tucked himself back into his pants and zipped up. Stretching his arms, he enjoyed the relaxation he always felt after spending himself inside Tori’s hot little body.

  She scrambled to get off his desk. As almost an afterthought, Mikhail picked her up and set her on her feet. There was no need for her to make a bigger mess of the contents of his desktop than he already had by fucking her on top of his paperwork.

  Tori stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Are you coming to bed now?”

  “Now?” He frowned, looking at the million or so things he still needed to do before he could even think about retiring for the night. “Maybe in a few hours. I have things to do.”

  Her hopeful expression faded, and he watched her put her poker face back on.

  Without another word, she turned and walked out of his study.

  Mikhail watched her go, wondering what her problem was and why he felt as if he was supposed to fix it.

  ***

  TORI WONDERED WHERE exactly she had gone wrong. She had gone from never having sex with her husband to having sex multiple times a day, and yet she still didn’t feel one bit closer to the man. How was that even possible?