City Of Sin_A Mafia & MC Romance Collection

by K. J. Dahlen

  “I haven’t been parading anyone around,” I said, my heartbeat doubling.

  He knew. He’d seen, somehow, that Anya and I had gone to the book club meeting. The one place I didn’t think the mafia had known about.

  “You have, but that’s beside the point. I’d like to make you a deal, Viktor.”

  This couldn’t be good. “What kind of deal?”

  There was a brief pause. “Your safety, in exchange for the girl.”

  “I don’t need safety, and you don’t need the girl.” I knew that the marriage would buy us some time, but clearly the Boss still thought that Anya could be useful in other ways. My mind raced, playing an intricate and dangerous game of chess with one of the most powerful men in the world.

  “That’s not your call to make. I have… uses… for her and I will not lay quietly while you betray me and then march her around to show the other crime families. They will think I’m weak.”

  I didn’t wait to respond. “They will not think you weak. I fell in love with the girl. It happens.”

  “Not in the mafia. Not in this family. I will not allow it. And do not pretend to have feelings for her. She is just a pawn in your game, in our game.”

  “She’s not a pawn,” I said softly into the phone. My tone was deadly serious. And that much was true at least. Anya was no piece in someone’s game. Not anymore. My marriage to her had cleared that up.

  “She is, and always will be a pawn; either to me or to Ramone. There is no way to escape, no way to hide from us. Better to turn her in now while we can still salvage our relationship.”

  I almost laughed. “You know as well as I do that there is no salvaging this relationship, Pakhan.” I drawled his courtesy title with a fair amount of reckless derision. “It’s over. You owe me a favor, and I will let you know when I want to collect it. Until that time, leave me and my wife alone, and we will do the same.”

  With a click on the button on my phone, I hung up on him. Better to leave Boss Petrov with more to say than to hear everything that man was thinking. Even after my years in the business, I was sometimes surprised with how ruthless and cold Boss Petrov could be. Although, if I was being honest, it wasn’t just the Boss that I had been increasingly wary of. It was myself, the person that I was around and for the Boss. He didn’t brook resistance. I had to be a silent, swift, coldly violent weapon that the Boss used at his own disposal whenever it benefited him the most.

  My phone went off again and I almost disconnected it without looking at it, assuming it was another call from the Boss with more threats. Instead, I recognized the head of my security’s phone number. “Da.”

  Vlad proceeded to tell me, in Russian, that my possession had decided to depart the building.

  My possession, Anya, had apparently decided that she’d had enough of the captivity and had walked to the corner store on her own, purchased a bag of chips and a movie, and then walked back home. Ordered not to intervene, my security men had followed her, maintaining discretion and staying a close enough distance that they could protect her if necessary, and then made the important call to my phone.

  “Thank you, Vlad. I’ll be home shortly to deal with this.”

  After I had hung up with him, I grabbed my jacket and headed down to my car, swearing the whole way. What did she think she was doing? Did she not recognize the danger she was in? She was going to be the death of me, in more ways than one.

  10

  Anya

  I stood there, shifting my weight from one foot to the other. I waited for the censure I knew I was going to get from Viktor. He was angry. Angry like I’d never seen him before. His scar stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his tanned face. His jaw was clenched so hard I thought it might break.

  I didn’t know why I had done it. Well, I did know why, but I wasn’t sure why I had thought that a bag of chips and a movie were that important to risk this kind of fury over it. I had thought he might be a little perturbed, and then he’d get over it and we’d watch a movie. But he didn’t look like he was going to get over it anytime soon. Definitely not.

  “I’m sorry,” I offered, straightening the tank top I had on. For a moment, I considered taking it off. Maybe a nude top half would distract him from the storm that was brewing. Then, after a quick look at his angry face, I decided having more layers on, the better.

  “You’re sorry,” he repeated.

  I nodded emphatically. “I am. I’m sorry. I just… god, I get so bored here. I can’t help it. I would do anything to get out of this house. To take a field trip. To go somewhere, do something. Anything.”

  I thought those had been reason enough to leave the house, but now I was thinking I might have been wrong about that. Nothing really seemed like reason enough anymore. If I could take it back, I would, but he had to understand that at least he got to go out and do things. Meanwhile, I had to stay here, look pretty and wait for him to come home, like the dutiful little wife that I was supposed to be.

  “You put men’s lives in danger. They’re tasked with protecting you and when you leave, you put them in danger. Do you understand that, Anya?” His body was completely still, only his mouth moving at the words he spoke.

  “I didn’t think of it that way,” I admitted. “I just wanted to grab something really quick and it seemed like a good time of day that there wouldn’t be many people out shopping.”

  “If you want something, ask the staff. Or order it off Amazon, for fuck’s sakes!”

  Wow, he was really angry. “It’s not like anyone would really recognize me anyway.”

  “I can promise you that both bosses have photographs out to hundreds or thousands of people whose only job is to find you, take you, and do unspeakable things with or to you. Do you understand what I’m saying?” he demanded.

  Contrition battled against petulance within me. “Maybe you should have just let me go with Petrov or Ramone, if you’re going to act like my father as well as my husband.”

  He stalked towards me like a big jungle cat, ready to pounce. “Printsessa, I have not acted remotely like your father or your husband—yet. One or the other would have spanked your disobedient bottom by now.”

  I sucked in a breath. Nodded, dutifully. “Yes, I understand. But it was just to the corner…”

  “I don’t care if it was just across the street. Even if you were in the front yard, they could still get to you. And when they get to you, they get to me.”

  I felt a little sick, thinking about the fact that my Doritos run could’ve put his life in danger. I hadn’t meant to do anything like that, not really. I had just wanted a few minutes’ reprieve from the life I was apparently supposed to lead for an indefinite amount of time. Until Viktor told me I could go back to being a regular human being with a social life. And who knew when that was going to be?

  “I’m sorry. I am. I won’t do it again,” I answered, meaning it.

  Instead, I’d try to convince him to take me out more. Then he couldn’t complain that I was protected or that I’d put his men’s lives in danger. I’d just be putting his life in danger, and we both already knew that it was based on the fact that he’d married me.

  “You’re right, you won’t. Do you know how I know that?” he asked in a dangerously smooth voice.

  I shivered. “Because I said so?”

  “No,” he responded. “Because I said so…”

  Oh god. He was so hot. I’m not sure why I thought it was so hot when he lost control, because he was undeniably gorgeous when he was in control. I was doomed. “And just because you said so…”

  “Yes…” he led, waiting for me to continue.

  “I’m supposed to do it,” I finished, swallowing down a mixture of nervousness and excitement. He moved closer, until he was just inches away.

  “That’s right. Because you know what happens when you don’t do what I say?”

  He was just in front of me now, looking down into my eyes, his face tense and serious. “You get mad?”

>   “I get pissed, Anya. And you won’t enjoy me like that.”

  “I’m pretty sure I would,” I blurted out without thinking. Immediately I slapped my hand across my mouth. I didn’t mean to say that out loud. He wasn’t supposed to hear that.

  He glared down at me. I felt my cheeks flush but I looked up at him defiantly. What was he going to do? Lock me up? I was already a prisoner here. Ground me? I already wasn’t allowed to see anyone, visit anyone. I might as well have… fun while I was in my invisible chains.

  “What did you just say to me?” he growled, his eyes dark.

  “I… uh…” I whispered, unable to focus with the way he was looking at me. “I meant—”

  “I’m not asking what you meant. I’m asking what you said. You don’t want to go there, little girl.”

  A wave of fury crested over me. I was not a little girl, despite his best efforts to treat me like I was. “What are you going to do? Punish me?”

  With that, I turned around, offering him the backside of me, wiggling my pushed-out bum a little for good measure. “Fine, spank me, then.”

  My indignant bravado died in my throat as he came up flush behind me, pressing the entire length of his hard body against mine. I jumped at the feeling of his arousal through his clothes. He was wearing a suit—not surprising, as he’d just come from the office. I knew from memory that it was the black and white one with the silky black tie. I liked that one. It made him look powerful without being vain. There were no pocket squares, no pretty buttons. It was plain, and masculine, and hot.

  And at that moment, it seemed like the suit just civilized him.

  I waited, my ass pushed out against his thighs, deciding not to back down this time. “Aren’t you going to punish me?”

  “Oh, printsessa,” he chuckled darkly. “Now you’ve asked for it.”

  I heard a swishing of fabric, felt movement behind me. Then I felt the sensual slide of silk around my eyes. He was blindfolding me. I had already been turned on by his little power play earlier, and this wasn’t helping matters. All I could think about was how much I wanted him. How desperate I was to feel his hands on my body.

  He secured the tie with a knot on the back of my head, tight enough that I would’ve struggled to get it off myself, but I didn’t even make an attempt. I thrilled at the lack of sense, the unknowing of where he was going to touch or what he was going to do next.

  He didn’t say anything, just touched my hair where it was pressed down by the blindfold. He took a half step back and I wondered if he was looking over my body, imagined his gaze running from my hair down my exposed neck, to the white lined dress I was wearing. It wasn’t cut in an overtly sexual way, but I liked the feel of the stretchy white fabric that clung to the curves of my body. The scooped neckline added a little heat to the outfit, as did the heels I was wearing.

  Perhaps he was angry at the idea that I’d gone out wearing this. I think some part of me knew that he was going to yell, or at least do something to me, when he’d heard what I’d done, and so I’d changed into something nice to endure it with.

  I was super-thankful now that I’d thought of it and put on the tall red heels. He didn’t know it, but it matched the red bra and panties that I’d put on just before the dress. Sexy underwear made me feel powerful, and I needed to feel powerful when I faced him.

  Now, it just made me feel turned on and wet, knowing that he might uncover me enough to see what I had worn in part for him.

  He pushed off the shoulder of the dress that was clinging to my left shoulder, exposing my red bra strap. I could feel him take a deep breath behind me, apparently trying to keep what little control he had left and it made me smile.

  Totally worth it.

  Without hesitation he slid the right shoulder off as well, leaving the dress clinging to the tops of my breasts. I took a deep breath as he rolled the dress down to my ribcage, exposing the red silky bra with its curved demi-cups.

  At the time I’d donned it, I hadn’t really thought of the fact that it left half my breasts exposed, only barely covering my nipple. Without being able to see I couldn’t check and make sure everything was in place, but at his low groan, I knew that it was at least a tempting picture. To his credit though, he didn’t touch me there…but I hoped that he would.

  I felt my nipples grow hard, aching for his touch, but he simply rolled down the dress past my ribcage down my torso, my belly, exposing my red silk panties.

  “Anya,” he breathed, his voice so low that it tickled my ear.

  I shivered, but let him move the dress down to my hips. My hands joined his, helped him, but really I just wanted to touch him, to feel his hair-roughened forearms and hands. Without meaning to, my body undulated back against him, an invitation to press against me. His hands touched the bare skin just above my hips, then they pushed the dress down. I helped him tug it to the floor, exposing my entire body with the exception of the red silk bra and panties and the blindfold over my eyes.

  I ran my hands over my own thighs when he didn’t move, caressing the soft skin and teasing my own body. I heard him swallow and took it as a sign that he was rapidly losing the control he was trying to hold onto.

  Then he crouched behind me, dropping to the floor. He grasped the dress, and my left ankle and lifted it free of the white fabric. The feeling of his hand on my bare ankle, just above the fuck-me heels I’d been wearing, was intoxicating. I wobbled on the stiletto heel, and his other hand went to the back of my thigh to steady me.

  The image of him kneeling behind me, his face at the height of my butt, was something I’d always take with me.

  He lifted out my other foot, and I heard the whisper of material slide away from us on the floor. He stood slowly, moving away from me.

  I whimpered at the sudden loss.

  “Wait like a good girl,” he said softly.

  I bit back a smile. This was the one time I would allow that phrase to be used. He got something out of a drawer and then I heard him stalk back to me, his black shoes tapping on the hardwood floor.

  I was surprised when he grabbed my wrist, tugged me forward. Without being able to see, I should’ve been scared, but I knew he’d never let any harm come to me. He moved me forward and then tugged on me to stop. I was trying to remember the room we were in, but I couldn’t think of where I was in relation to the front door.

  Then I felt a cold plastic slide around my wrist and then lifted it up and out. The telltale ratcheting sound let me know that I’d just been cable-tied to something—something that had secured my arm away from my body, and stretched it high. He did the same to my other wrist until I was stretched out and exposed to him.

  I’d never been more turned on in my life. My panties were undoubtedly soaked, my nipples so hard they scratched at the silken bra.

  He didn’t move or say anything for a moment, and I imagined him enjoying the view. I’m sure I presented an exotic picture – star-fished in some kind of opening with just a slutty pair of satin undies and half a bra, blindfolded, in tall red heels. I was so turned on I was worried a little bit that one touch from him would set me off. I swallowed audibly, waiting for his next move.

  11

  Anya

  I bit my lip. “If this is your idea of punishment, Viktor…”

  His laugh was merely a sharp bark. I felt his gaze on my near-naked body, and I shivered.

  “I’m not sure who is being punished here,” he admitted.

  He came up behind me, his hands rising to the tops of my breasts. I moaned as he stroked the soft skin that was pushed up, waiting for his touch. He ran his hands down the lines of the bra, squeezing both mounds firmly. He kept moving, down the skin of my belly and just above the panty line. I wiggled inadvertently, but he grasped my hips and made a low sound. Then his fingers traced around the front of me, overtop of the silk, caressing my mound. I let out a whimper, praying that he would go deeper, but he just ran his fingers lightly over me, grazing over my clit through the material.
>
  Then his palm connected with my ass.

  “Ah!”

  My body tensed at the shocking pain, and even more shocking arousal. It burned through me, like a lit fuse attached to a stick of dynamite. My breath came in short bursts as he spanked me again and again. Within half a dozen swats I was close to hyperventilating in time with the rhythm of his hand.

  “Had enough, printsessa?”

  He stopped, his lips finding their way to the crease of my neck and shoulder. I threw my head back, allowing him to place wet, hot kisses down my neck, shoulder, and collarbone. His left hand cupped my breast, thumbing the nipple through the cup. I let out a breathy moan. His right hand dug into my thigh, leaving prints of his fingertips. I hoped it would bruise. Hoped that the mark of him doing this would remain as long possible so I could burn the image into my memory.

  He rubbed his hands up and down me, turning my face towards him at one point so we could fuse our mouths together, our tongues sliding against one another’s. I felt his right hand squeeze the flesh of my ass and I involuntarily thrust my hips back against it. I heard his hiss of breath, felt the rigid length of his cock press into my cheeks.

  He reached behind me, unclasping the bra. I gasped as I felt it fall away from me, leaving me exposed in the cool air of the room. My nipples were hard, aching. My breasts felt heavy and full, waiting for his touch. My panties were wet, and I wanted to be naked, ready for him. As if he’d heard my plea, he pulled my panties down past my knees to the floor, and I stepped out of them as he removed them.

  When I felt his hands on my breasts, reaching from behind, I just about came right there. His hands were warm, rough, and they plied my skin firmly, leaving no question whether or not I was his in this moment. He teased and pinched my nipples until I was crying out, ready to fall over the peak without him even touching my throbbing center.