Obsessed King: Ruthless Bratva Brotherhood

by Blue, Kaye

  I pulled back, looked into her dark eyes.

  “Now.”

  Six

  Erin

  “Now?” I repeated.

  Sasha didn’t say anything but stared at me with an intensity that was breath-stealing.

  This had gone very differently than I’d expected.

  As I’d looked at the new door and the place where my window had once been, I’d been bombarded by emotions, all of them directed at him.

  I rarely allowed myself such indulgences, tried to keep my emotions under control, but before I knew it, I had been headed back to the restaurant, spoiling for a fight, ready to give Sasha a piece of my mind.

  It seemed now I was going to give him something else entirely.

  Yelling at him wouldn’t have changed anything, and I hadn’t expected it to. Coming here had been my way to exert some control in this situation.

  But, once I saw him, my emotions had turned on a dime.

  His smile, the way he had looked at me, his physical presence, all of it was alluring and intimidating, throwing me off balance.

  And that kiss…

  I wasn’t even sure I could call it a kiss, the faint brush of his lips against mine, barely there but more potent than any kiss that had come before it.

  I could barely follow the whiplash, my pendulum of emotions leaving me on edge.

  Sasha seemed determined to keep me that way.

  He brushed his thumb against my lip, and I moaned, the sound pushing out of my mouth before I realized it.

  I cringed, feeling embarrassed, but still risked a glance at his face.

  His expression was still intense, still focused on me, and my pussy started to throb in anticipation.

  That reaction was one thing that wasn’t a surprise.

  I’d never denied my attraction to him, couldn’t, not when he affected me as he did.

  So, while I wouldn’t lose sight of why I was doing this, I also wouldn’t pretend I wasn’t going to enjoy it.

  As if to remind me of just that, he brushed his thumb along my jawline and down my neck.

  His hands were clean, well-manicured, but as his fingertips trailed along my neck, I noticed the roughness. I knew that despite the clothes, the office, this man used his hands and wasn’t afraid to get them dirty.

  That should have terrified me.

  It didn’t.

  He continued to caress me, allowing his fingers to touch the skin left exposed by my scoop-neck shirt.

  My nipples were taut and felt like they were throbbing in time with my heartbeat.

  I shifted, the movement unconscious, but my breasts jutted forward, an invitation to touch them.

  An invitation that, to my relief, he didn’t question.

  No, he simply took it, moving tortuously slow as he stroked one big hand over the curve of my breast, letting his fingertips linger over my nipple before moving to the other side.

  I was wearing a shirt and a bra, but my reaction was anything but muted, another shiver racking my body, my sex clenched tight.

  He continued to stroke my breasts, touching me with both hands now, the feel of his palms on my flesh, the light squeeze that he gave them, sending my eyes slamming shut.

  Only to pop back open when he brushed his lips against mine again.

  And then again.

  Again, more forcefully this time, his palms anchored on my breasts, his mouth teasing, coaxing, demanding.

  I kissed him back.

  I was powerless to do anything but. Wanted to kiss him more than I wanted my next breath.

  So I did, the softness and surprising fullness of his lips and the taste of his tongue all sending my overheated body into overdrive.

  It had been a long time, a very long time, since I had been with anyone, but even the most passionate encounters from my past paled in comparison to this kiss.

  Who was I kidding?

  There was no comparison.

  The way he touched me, controlled but gentle, demanding but also giving, was something I hadn’t expected, something I feared I could become addicted to.

  He kissed me deeper, the length of his tongue to filling my mouth. At the same time, he released my breasts and moved his hand past the curve of my waist, over my stomach, to settle at the apex of my thighs.

  One hand held my waist, the other pressed against my mound, putting just enough pressure on my clit to make me want him that much more.

  My breath was ragged, my heart racing, and I realized that I was clinging to him, my hand wrapped around his massive biceps, the muscle there unyielding, as hard as his kiss had been soft.

  He pressed his palm flat sending a shockwave through my clit that sparked the rest of my body.

  I realized too late that the ragged moan I heard had come from me.

  Didn’t even consider being embarrassed.

  All that mattered now was my need, the ache I so desperately wanted—needed—him to take away.

  I closed my eyes again and rocked my hips against his hand.

  He reacted, threaded his fingers in my hair, taking more command of the kiss.

  At the same time, he slammed the heel of his hand against my clit again, my skirt and panties barely a buffer against the sensation.

  My breath hitched again, pleasure ricocheting through me, but I didn’t have time to recover.

  He moved again, kissed me softly, then again, harder, harder, then soft again, but tasting my mouth in an erratic pattern that left me breathless and clinging to him.

  “Oh…”

  I had lost any sense of shame I might have had and wrapped my arm around his shoulders, clinging to him, rocking my hips, desperate for more.

  More that he gave, squeezing my sex, before slipping his hand into the elastic waistband of my skirt to again settle at the apex of my thighs.

  His long, thick, fingers found my clit and my reaction was immediate.

  The stroke along my covered slit, the way he teased my button through my underwear, made it impossible for me to contain myself.

  I went off like a rocket, my arms still anchored around his broad shoulders, my pants and moans loud enough to be shameful, though I wasn’t ashamed at all.

  The pleasure he gave me was much like the man himself, outsized, not what I would have expected, something that felt dangerous but also right.

  As I started to regain some of my senses, I sagged against him but quickly tried to pull away.

  He wouldn’t allow it.

  Instead, he tightened his arms around me, pulling me into an embrace.

  It was impossible to miss the hardness that pressed against my stomach, what I could feel of his length and girth making my sex clench again and inspiring a fresh trickle of moisture.

  I hadn’t recovered from the most explosive climax of my life, and already I wanted more.

  I was embarrassed by the way I had reacted, but not embarrassed enough to still my hands.

  I pressed my palms flat against his bulge and was rewarded by him tightening his arm around me.

  Hiding a smile, I rubbed my palm against him, teasing him as he had me.

  I was rewarded by his own harsh breath and the tightening of his arms around my waist.

  But then he broke away.

  I blinked for a moment, shocked at the loss of contact, hungry for it and left somewhat afraid by how much.

  “I—”

  He shook his head, not out of anger, but I could see the fierce determination in his face.

  “You should go now,” he said, his voice ragged, the sound of it making me squeeze my thighs together for some relief.

  “You don’t want to finish what you started?” I asked, not sure who this bold woman was but liking the way she thought.

  His eyes darkened shade, and he nodded slowly.

  “Yes, but when I fuck you for the first time, it’s not going to be some quickie against my desk. Make no mistake. I will have you. But I’m going to take my time.”

  I said nothing, just watc
hed him as he slowly regained the composure I’d only just realized he’d lost.

  I wished I could do the same but knew I couldn’t.

  In the few breaths that passed, I could see the desire that seemed to match mine shoved away, leaving me again with the impassive and impenetrable boss.

  Intimidating, but also intriguing.

  Because I knew what lay beneath that facade, felt like I was privy to a secret because of that.

  “Now go, before I change my mind,” he said.

  “I doubt I’m the type of woman who could make you change your mind.”

  He stared at me, the intensity that had been gone flashing back before he pushed it away again. “No, you’re not the type of woman who could make me change my mind. You’re the only woman who could make me change my mind. Now go,” he said.

  I stood for a moment, stunned by what I realized was a confession, and I turned and left, not bothering to risk saying anything else.

  Besides, my actions had spoken more than enough.

  Before, I’d told myself I was doing this out of devotion, but this encounter forced me to give up the lie.

  I knew who he was, knew what he did, and knew it didn’t matter.

  Not at all.

  For the first time in as long as I could remember, maybe for the first time in my life, I wanted someone enough to loosen control and throw caution to the wind.

  Because there was no doubt now.

  Sasha was going to take me, and I was going to enjoy it.

  * * *

  Sasha

  I should be calm.

  She had accepted my offer, proven she was not just willing but excited to do so.

  But I wasn’t calm.

  Tasting her again had become an obsession.

  She had become an obsession.

  It was only a matter of time until I had her, but I knew once wouldn’t be enough.

  Didn’t know if enough existed when it came to her.

  I paced, trying to relieve some of the energy that charged me, knowing she was the only thing that could do that.

  Whatever the fuck this thing was with Erin was out of character for me.

  I’m human and liked to fuck—probably more than most—but my business and the Brotherhood were the center of my life. Nothing, no one, distracted me from either.

  Nothing, no one, except her.

  Even now, the memory of touching her had my cock rock-hard, thoughts of what would come later pushing me to the edge. I moved my arm, intent on relieving some of the tension, but stopped myself. The next time I came, I’d be filling Erin with my cum, not wasting it on my hand.

  I wanted her with a ferocity I could barely contain, but ending things had been the right call.

  Because I was going to take my time with her, explore every inch of her, explore every inch of her again, and then bury myself inside her so deep that there would be no way to tell where I ended and she began.

  My heart was racing, these thoughts, this desire, completely foreign to me.

  I wanted her so much, wanted her in a way that made me feel weak.

  A feeling that was as unfamiliar as the instant connection I’d felt with her.

  But as much as I hated it, I couldn’t deny it, which might have been the most frustrating thing of all.

  I breathed deep, forcing myself to push away the memory of her, trying to fight back the anticipation of finally having her.

  Soon.

  But for now, I focused on the task at hand.

  About an hour after Erin left, my office door swung open.

  “Sasha,” Etienne said as he entered.

  I smiled, not at Etienne but instead at the woman who walked in behind him.

  “Shay,” I said, crossing to pull her into a tight embrace.

  “Hey, Sasha,” she whispered, hugging me back and then looking up at me with a smile. “Good to see you.”

  “You too,” I responded, hugging her again before looking at the doorway.

  Riker stood glaring at us, and after a moment, Shay stepped away from me, her hand drifting to her neck. I’d often wondered if she knew how often she did that but hadn’t asked, not wanting to raise a topic I knew she was sensitive about.

  “Do you have your books?” she asked, her gaze drifting to the desk.

  “That should be everything you need,” I said.

  She nodded and then went over to the desk to sift through the papers there. After a moment, she looked at Etienne.

  “It’ll be a least a couple of hours.”

  He nodded. “Very well. We have other business to attend anyway.”

  Shay nodded, but I could see she was preoccupied with the papers. She was a wizard with numbers and only really seemed at ease when she was working with them.

  “Let the guard know if you need anything, Shay,” I said as I headed to the door.

  “Okay,” she responded, clearly distracted.

  I laughed and then exited the office, looking at Riker as we walked. I’d known him since we were boys, even longer than I’d known Etienne, so the scowl on his face, the anger that seemed to radiate off him, didn’t faze me. He’d always been a surly fucker, and I didn’t expect that to change.

  “How was the flight?” I asked.

  “Like you fucking care,” came his response.

  I laughed and shoved his shoulder. “Good to see you, Riker.”

  He grunted then entered the waiting SUV. I got in after him.

  “Joke all you want. You haven’t been flying around the whole fucking world babysitting Etienne’s house cat,” he grumbled.

  I frowned. “You have a problem with Shay?”

  His nostrils flared. “She’s so—”

  “Not now, Riker,” Etienne said, cutting him off. “I’ve listened to your complaints about Shay long enough. And besides, she takes care of our money. You should love her.”

  He grunted again but didn’t speak. Still, I knew Riker well enough to know he was biting his tongue, something he rarely did. I’d have to find out what was going on later.

  But for now, business.

  “Has anything changed since I was last here?” Etienne asked.

  He hadn’t been back to the city for several months, and like always, wanted to be filled in on what had happened.

  “Two smaller families have been fighting over territory in the south, nothing too serious yet. But I want to have this meeting with the Fedorovs to make sure nothing gets out of hand. So far, they’ve abided by the terms agreed to in Moscow, but it’s good to remind them.”

  Riker scowled deeper. “We gonna play golf after?”

  He had no patience for the “bullshit” side of the business as he called it. He hated meeting and negotiating. But he was in charge of the Brotherhood’s security and defense for a good reason.

  “I know you prefer brass knuckles to conversation, but don’t worry, you may get your blood soon enough,” I said.

  “Whatever, sweetheart.” He looked out of the window, clearly done with this conversation.

  “You anticipate a problem?” Etienne asked.

  “No, but I have a feeling. Hopefully nothing will come from it.”

  Etienne didn’t respond, but I knew he understood. One of the things he’d always preached was trusting your gut. Surprising, considering how much he despised people who acted out of emotion, but Etienne always trusted his gut, and over the years, he’d grown to put faith in mine.

  “If you don’t mind, Sasha, I like to handle this meeting, try to get a feel where things stand,” Etienne said.

  “Be my guest,” I responded.

  It was nice that he asked, though it wasn’t necessary.

  In many organizations, the question would be seen as a sign of disrespect.

  I didn’t take it that way.

  Etienne had his reasons for doing what he did, and I didn’t have anything to prove. One of the reasons the Brotherhood wasn’t in constant turmoil was because all of us were smart enough to push aside our
egos when we needed to.

  The SUV came to a stop, and we got out, everyone silent, but words not necessary. We’d been through enough of these to know what to expect and skilled enough to handle anything that might come up.

  The men guarding the door knew why we were here and made a big show of patting us down.

  “I’ll return this after the meeting is done,” the guard said as he took Riker’s gun.

  “I know,” he responded, before going stony and silent again.

  We got on the elevator and rode to the top floor and entered the penthouse. There were six men present, but after a cursory glance, I ignored them all, save one.

  Denis Fedorov, the leader and representative of the Federovs in the city, stood close to six feet with a bulky, squat build and weasley eyes that I’d never trusted. He exuded cockiness, his family name protection against consequences for behavior that wouldn’t be accepted by anyone else.

  He knew that and used it to his advantage.

  Would try to do the same shit with us.

  “You’re on time,” he said.

  I wanted to scowl at him but kept my expression blank. Did he really think this bullshit would get him anywhere? Making us come to him, remarking on when we’d arrived, all supposed to be proof of his dominance when it just made him look small.

  “I always try to be mindful of details. Can you say the same?” Etienne asked.

  “Right down to business,” Denis said.

  “Yes, and speaking of business, is yours controlled?”

  That got Denis’s attention, a subtle, yet direct challenge that I knew was intentional.

  Etienne always said men in this business were far too easy to manipulate, that anger was one of the most potent ways of doing so.

  “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Denis asked.

  “It’s supposed to mean that the reason the arrangement in the home country works is because you keep things calm here and don’t attract attention. You haven’t been doing that.”

  Denis scoffed. “That bullshit in the south? A little skirmish. Nothing of note.”

  “I’m here, which would suggest that’s not true,” Etienne said.

  “The problem will be handled, and we’ll be back to business as usual.”