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Russian Bad Boy's Princess: A Mafia Romance

Page 2

by Bella Rose


  Maria’s climax sent her to the stars. She would have opened her eyes to see what was going on between her legs, but she could not operate her eyes or any other part of her body. The crashing waves of sensation made her legs go stiff and her fingers numb. She arched her back, pushed her throbbing breasts into the air, and screamed because she couldn’t stop.

  She felt so empty. The sensation was intense. Her inner muscles kept contracting, waiting for penetration. She needed it. She could feel the strange longing and barely understood what it was she wanted so badly.

  “Please.” She moved restlessly on the bed. “I’m aching. Aching. Sasha?”

  Was that mewling little voice hers? It sounded so unlike her. She was sassy and confident. She was the daughter of the Sokolov pakhan. She was not some weakling ruled by her need for a man.

  She glanced down the length of her body to where her husband of perhaps four hours was lounging between her legs. His grin made her belly knot in anticipation. Surely they weren’t done. He hadn’t—well he hadn’t finished. Had he?

  “Calm down.” The gentle baritone was a far cry from the voice that had been issuing orders only a few moments before. “Soon.”

  “Now.”

  Before she could even process his intent, he slapped her open pussy. It was a light tap, but it shocked her. She moved to close her legs and found she could not. His shoulders were wedged between her knees.

  “You do not presume to give orders to me. Understand?” The hard edge was back in his voice. A thrill of fear mingled with excitement slipped down her spine.

  “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

  Then he stroked her pussy. She cried out in pleasure. He continued to toy with her. “See? When you behave, good things happen.”

  She could not respond. Her voice didn’t work. Or perhaps it was because she was making all kinds of noise, but none of it involved words. Each time he made a sweep across her sensitive folds with his fingers, she thought she was going to die of pleasure and longing. Then she felt him circling the opening of her vagina. It felt strange. He pushed the top of one finger inside her. Just a little. The fullness was pleasing, though she didn’t really understand why.

  “You’re so tight,” he muttered. “I’ve got to work this pussy a bit before you’re ready for a man, sweet girl.”

  The soft words made her feel cherished and protected. Then he pushed the length of his entire finger into her opening, and she cried out in sudden alarm. There was pain, but only for a brief moment. Another finger circled her clit again and again, and she soon forgot anything but the pleasure he was giving her.

  “That’s it.” His other hand held her pussy splayed open. “Move your hips, sweet girl. See what you like. Grind against my hand. I know it feels good. Don’t hold back.”

  Sasha watched her begin to fuck his hand and thought his cock was going to burst. It was as though she could not keep still. Her sexy little body kept grinding against him. He put the heel of his hand against her clit and watched her increase her pace. Oh, she liked this all right. The woman was going to be a regular goddess when he got done with her. A few lessons, and she would be taking his cock wherever he wanted to put it.

  Her inner muscles bore down on his finger. She was tightening, the muscles stroking his finger and getting ready to climax. He could feel it. She was wetter. Her scent grew tangier and more intense. His mouth watered, and he wanted to lick her pussy. Later. Now he was trying to prepare this pussy to accept his cock.

  He began to work her clit with more purpose. As he felt her begin to tremble, he slowly slipped a second finger inside her body. She stiffened but could not stop the involuntary hip thrusting that seemed to be her body’s natural reaction to sexual stimulation. He spread his fingers apart inside her body.

  She cried out and came. He felt every muscle in her body seize. Her back arched, and her perfect breasts stabbed the air, as her nipples hardened into diamond points. She looked so fucking sexy that he almost could not resist the urge to climb on top of her and fuck her until he was sated.

  Not now. Not now. He would hurt her, and the fun would be over. And it was going to take more than once for him to get tired of this little vixen. So he let her have her orgasm before gently withdrawing her fingers.

  Maria collapsed onto the bed. She was panting and whimpering and generally sounding like a woman who had just been given the most amazing orgasm. He lay between her spread legs, soaking up the sight of her and anticipating a hundred more nights just like this one. Only next time, he would enjoy some much needed satisfaction.

  “Well?” he prompted. “Was this as awful as you were anticipating?”

  “Who said I thought it was going to be awful?” She craned her neck around to look at him. “I just thought…I mean, I didn’t think you were…I didn’t think you were interested in me. Not like this.”

  “Like this, hmm?” He was now officially curious. “And what did you think I was interested in?”

  She yawned. “Sex of course. I thought you would just put your penis inside me and do your thing.”

  Sasha began to laugh. The woman said the strangest things. He was still laughing when he looked over and realized that she had fallen asleep. Ah. So much for being satisfied on his wedding night. It looked like the only thing he was getting was a sore crotch.

  Chapter Three

  Maria awoke many hours later. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep, but the fire had burned down low. She was so deliciously warm and very groggy. She felt disoriented. She was naked. She never slept naked and could not imagine what would have caused her to forget her nightgown before going to bed.

  Then she tried to roll over and realized that there was a very large shape in the bed behind her. She froze. Sasha! This was not her bed. This was her husband’s bed. She’d gotten married earlier that night. Sasha had given her several amazing orgasms before she had sort of collapsed into sleep. How odd. She’d expected him to be rutting on her like some kind of beast. He hadn’t been that way at all. In fact he’d been almost…gentle.

  The big shape behind her shifted. Then his growly voice tickled her ear. “Are you all right? Need something?”

  “No. I just woke up and forgot where I was.”

  “That’s bound to happen,” he grunted. “Go back to sleep.”

  “Sasha?”

  “Yes?”

  “May I call you Sasha?” She suddenly realized that she did not know the rules of her new life.

  “When we are in private,” he told her, sounding more awake. “When we are around my men, you will call me Pakhan.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  “I don’t care what you think.”

  The hard words hurt her feelings, but Maria realized that her father was much the same way when it came to commanding respect, even from men he considered close friends. She decided this was not an argument worth having.

  “Sasha, why didn’t you…uh…you know.”

  “No, I do not know because you haven’t told me. If you want me to know what you’re referring to, I suggest you say it.” He sounded somewhere between annoyed and amused. It was very disconcerting.

  “Okay, then.” She bit her lip and gathered her gumption. “Why didn’t you ejaculate?”

  “That’s very technical.” He actually snickered. “I have more self-control than whatever little boys you’ve been playing with up until now.”

  There hadn’t been many, but this was not the time to discuss it. “Did you want to…uh…come?”

  “If you’re asking if I wanted to shove my cock inside that sweet little pussy of yours, then the answer is yes.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “You’re too tight. I’d hurt you.”

  “Oh.” She felt disappointed in herself. She wriggled a little bit, trying to see his face. “Is there some other way for you to do that?”

  “You mean jack off?” He seemed to be considering it. At least that’s how she interpreted his brief
silence. “I suppose.”

  “Would you want to?” Now she was really going out on a limb. “I could help.”

  “Is that right?”

  “Yes. I would do that for you.”

  The idea made Sasha harder than hell in a millisecond. His cock was throbbing between his legs like living steel. He rolled Maria to her back and gazed down at her face in the dying light of the fire. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes.”

  No hesitation. He liked that. And for some reason he had the oddest urge to kiss her. Sasha did not kiss lovers, as a rule. There was no need. It did nothing for the sexual urges he felt. Now though, he seemed to be suffering from a desire to feel the texture of Maria’s soft lips against his own. Ignoring that urge, he settled himself atop his little bride and felt the satisfaction of covering her body with his.

  She went totally still as he gave her his full weight. Then he began rubbing his cock against her cleft. He had ditched his pants and his underwear before getting into bed. The head of his erection brushed the crisp hair covering her mound with each thrust of his hips.

  Maria was breathing heavily. Her eyes were dilated, and her nose flared, showing him just how aroused she was. It was so damn tempting to nudge her legs a little farther apart and push his cock inside her pussy. But no. That would get him nowhere in the end. Instead he reared up onto his knees.

  His cock bobbed between them like an angry hornet. Her gaze locked on his equipment. It was rather flattering. Not that his ego needed a boost, but it was nice all the same.

  He took her hands and wrapped them around his cock. It felt good to have her soft hands against the heated skin of his shaft. Her tentative touch was gentle, though inexperienced. He took control. Showing her how to hold and when to squeeze, he pumped her hands up and down his shaft in quick sharp strokes.

  Precum beaded on the tip of his head, and her fingers tangled in the silky stuff. He groaned as the sensation added to his pleasure. His balls began to tighten between his legs, and he felt his climax unfurling in his lower back. He was going to get there quick. He’d been holding off since the moment he’d seen her through the door.

  Even the thought of her softness made him crazy. He tightened his buttocks and felt his shaft throb. He closed his hands tightly around hers until they were both clamped down on his cock. He pumped against her hold. She made tiny noises that were driving him wild.

  Looking down at her made their fucking—and it was fucking, hand-job or not—even more intense. She was watching. She liked it. He could see it in her eyes. The wonder on her face was priceless. He could tell that she wanted this. She wanted him. His. His. His. She was his.

  Maria could not rip her gaze away from the cock sliding in and out of view in her hands. He was soft and so very hard all at the same time. The power she felt was intoxicating. He was turned on. She was turning him on. She felt sexy and wanton and maybe a little wild.

  The rippling muscles in his chest and abdomen were taut. A drop of sweat rolled down his belly and got caught in the nest of dark hair at his groin. She had never seen anything like this man. He was hard and alpha, and she was almost afraid of what he could do if he chose to. He could have anyone. Yet he had come to her.

  She moved her thumb, changing the position and letting the pad slide over the opening at the head of his cock. The silky fluid spilling from the hole made it feel even better. She could tell that he liked it too. Maybe it was in the way he trembled after each stroke. Or perhaps it was the expression of near pain on his face. He needed this release, and she was going to give it to him.

  “I’m close.” His voice was a snarl. He sounded like a beast. “I’m going to bathe you in my cum. Do you understand that? I’m going to mark you. Mine.”

  She could only nod. His words woke something primal in her soul. She wanted this. She wanted him all over her, even though she wasn’t really sure what he was talking about or how it would happen.

  Then his cock pulsed. She felt it beneath her fingers. It throbbed, and then viscous white fluid shot from the opening. The warm cum bathed her belly and breasts. It seemed to keep coming and coming. She would have thought that she’d experience horror, but it was quite the opposite. Total and complete fascination filled her, along with a sense of pride and excitement. She had done this. The way he was convulsing and groaning—it was for her!

  Then he collapsed to the bed beside her and lay panting. His cheek rested against her shoulder, and she suddenly felt exhausted. She was panting as though she had run a race. It was all very disconcerting.

  “Wow.” Sasha was muttering in Russian beneath his breath. He was speaking so quickly that she could not understand all of it. Then he rolled over and pointed to a door across the room. “Go clean up.”

  She felt stung by what seemed like rejection. What had she done wrong? “Okay.”

  She squirmed out of the bed and beat a hasty retreat to the bathroom. Finding a cabinet, she opened it and looked for a cloth to clean herself. She avoided the mirror. She did not want to see the shame in her own eyes. Something that had been exciting only moments ago now felt somehow tainted and dirty. Why? What had she done to make him mad? It was as though she had disappointed him.

  Sasha tried to get himself back together. He had utterly lost control. Rolling to a sitting position, he threw his legs over the side of the bed. He rubbed his hands down his face and forced himself to remember the situation.

  This marriage was not about a man and a woman. It was about two families. He was a Tarasov. She was a Sokolov. With this marriage, he could claim alliance to the second-most powerful family in the city. That was important. That was what mattered. Business mattered.

  He could fuck any woman he wanted, as many women as he wanted. He could fill them with his seed and spawn a hundred bastards if he so chose. This woman was for breeding heirs and sating whatever carnal desires he couldn’t satisfy elsewhere. That was all. The fact that she was likeable should not matter.

  Tomorrow night he would fuck her. Nothing would stop him. There was no more reason to worry. If he hurt her, so what? The woman was his to do with as he saw fit. She was his property—his wife. If she bled the first time he fucked her, it made no difference.

  He heard the water turn off in the bathroom. Good. It was high time the woman went back to her own room. He slept alone. Always had and always would. Sharing a bed created a breach of protocol and gave people a false sense of connection.

  He stood up as the door opened. Maria appeared looking small and meek. Her eyes were downcast, and she was shivering. Her blonde hair was a riot of tangles around her narrow shoulders, and she was not trying to cover her nakedness, even though she was uncomfortable.

  “Come back to bed. You must be freezing.” The words popped out of his mouth. Whatever the hell his brain was doing, the rest of his senses apparently couldn’t keep it straight.

  Maria climbed back into the big bed. Sasha should have left right then, but he could not make himself do it. He told himself it was because this was his bed. He was most comfortable here. He could not admit that he wanted to be here with his bride. She curled up at the edge of the bed, and Sasha tucked himself around her.

  The strange position felt right somehow. He rested his cheek against her hair and inhaled. She smelled good. It wasn’t just feminine. It was more. There was a strange overlaying of his scent atop hers. The satisfaction was immediate. He could not resist her warmth.

  Sasha threw his arm over her and pulled her even closer. It felt as though every curve of her body had been made to fit against him. This was not coincidence. It was fate. He could not fight fate. He would just have to alter it to suit his purposes.

  Chapter Four

  Maria blinked sleepily and swiped her hand across her face. Something weird was tickling her. It was wet and strange, and she just wanted it to go away so she could go back to sleep. She was so very tired. Her whole body ached, and her eyes burned with the need for rest.

  The tickling persist
ed. She pushed at whatever was bugging her and came into contact with something warm and furry. Her eyes shot open in shock as she tried to sit up and could not. A large canine face looked down at her with a curious expression.

  The shock alone was enough, but she was terrified of dogs, and this thing was the size of a pony. She parted her lips, and out came a scream. Her canine visitor drew back instantly. It romped around the bed in wild circles. The pillows and blankets went flying. Each bounding leap had Maria bouncing off the mattress.

  She cried out in utter terror as she was thrown clear of the bed and landed in a heap of linens on the floor. The dog took a flying leap off the bed and nearly lost his footing trying get out of the bedroom. Its back end caught the doorframe, and the creature yelped as it struggled to get traction on the wood floors.

  Two maids dashed into the room babbling in Russian. Great. Sokolovs didn’t speak much Russian in their home. Russian was for business. In the Sokolov household, keeping Maria and her mother ignorant of Russian had kept them ignorant of the family business as well. Maria’s mother had been American, and they’d spoken primarily English her entire life. Her Russian was deplorable, and her accent was laughable.

  “I can’t understand you!” Maria finally shouted. “Either slow down or speak English!”

  They were shouting and gesticulating and pointing at her while they loomed over her like angry birds. Maria put her arms over her head and grabbed for the blankets to cover her head. What was wrong with these people?

  “No Russian, no Russian,” she repeated over and over again. It was one of the only things she actually knew how to say in Russian.

  The two women finally stopped shouting. Maria peeked out from under the blankets. They were staring at each other now and looked almost sick. Perfect. This was not the best start to her first day as mistress of her husband’s home.

  “Where are my things?” she asked. “I need to get dressed.”

 

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