Disbelief (Smirnov Bratva Book 2)

by T. L Smith

  His hand lifts from my hip, his fingers clutch my shirt and he pulls it upward. I raise my hands so he can, and in an instant, my shirt is gone. Then his hands work on my pants, he pulls them down and I step out of them, then all I have left on is my underwear. I move my hands to unclasp my bra, letting it drop to meet the pile of clothing on the floor. Then my panties, and now I stand in front of him, the sound of the water from the shower the only noise coming between us. My hand lifts again, wanting to make sure he’s still there. He’s gone silent. I touch his chest again, he hasn’t moved, his breathing coming in small pants.

  “I’ve seen a lot of bodies in my time, but none are as perfect as yours. That should worry you being with me.”

  I don’t have time to question what he means by that because his hands come to my ass, and he grips my cheeks hard as he lifts me up so effortlessly. I want to know exactly what he looks like, I want to feel his facial expressions. I’ve never wanted to see something as bad in my life as I want to see him right now. I want to understand him, and I don’t. That troubles me more than anything he’s hiding from me.

  I hear a door squeak open. The warm water touches my back first, his mouth comes down onto my neck next. I let my neck drop backward, my hands find his face. I pull him away from my neck and feel the edges of his face. His forehead is set with worry, crinkle lines cross deeply. I would never have guessed Death to be someone who worries.

  “Tell me what you see?” I whisper dropping my mouth to his. I kiss his lips softly, I can feel him, hard just below my ass.

  “I see someone who shouldn’t be on this earth. I see someone, who’s too good, that doesn’t belong here.” He lifts me again with his hands, like I’m a doll, then pulls me down hard. No warning, no warm up. A scream rips through me, his mouth tries to shut that scream up with his lips. There’s pain, then the pleasure of that one action sends shots of electricity through my body. He doesn’t move me straight away. He’s large, larger than my ex. His cock is hitting everything, and I’m afraid if I move, the pain will be stronger. His words float straight through me, he’s made me forget it all with that one action. Those fucked up words he just spoke, ones that I know hold meaning to him, ones that I know I won’t truly understand or even get an answer to. “Are you hurting?” he asks me, lifting his mouth from mine, his lips still just touching mine.

  “Yes,” I answer. Even with the pleasure, the pain is still there.

  His lips curve up, I can feel them, and then he starts to move me slower than before. It takes me a moment to adjust, and when I do, I feel my eyes become larger—the pain is completely gone. He moves me faster, deeper, harder. Before I know it, pleasure rips through me, so fast, that I don’t know how to handle it. When I’ve had sex before, it was always on a bed, never have I had sex standing up and never have I been this turned on without even knowing I was.

  “Bite me,” his words are dark, I almost don’t recognize that voice. “Bite me,” he says again, lifting his shoulder up to me. My mouth closes over the top of his shoulder, and my teeth sink in, not too hard, just enough to leave a mark. With that he picks up speed, bouncing me harder, I have to stop myself from lifting my head and screaming. I can feel the build-up, it’s almost there, so fast, and I’m so not used to it.

  “Harder,” he says. My teeth etch into his skin. He repeats it again, “Harder.”

  I bite, hard.

  Breaking his skin.

  I can taste blood as it touches my mouth. He feels it to because he smacks my ass hard. He likes it—a lot.

  My head lifts, I kiss his mouth, my hands find his jaw, grabbing him to me. Blood is on my tongue, I don’t notice until he moans into my mouth, kissing and fucking me even harder. Then I drop, my head pulls backward, straight under the water, and my body starts to shake.

  Is this that big O girls talk about?

  I’ve never experienced it, and I want more.

  He isn’t finished though, he keeps rocking into me, not stopping. His hand reaches down and touches my clit, making me shoot back up to the position we were just in. My legs wrap tighter around him, and before I know it, another one hits me and my hands and legs go slack. I don’t know if he comes, my mind is too blank. All I know is that he carries me out, and before I know it, my eyes are closed.

  Chapter 9

  Death

  I have an unhealthy obsession—you know it, I know it. She didn’t know it. I guess that was the problem. She didn’t know it, she couldn’t see it. To others, I was in the category of evil even dangerous. But I was so much more, way more.

  I’m not a person to have feelings for others—I have respect, and non-respect. Then there were other categories like love, affection, they just don’t appear on my radar. I don’t understand those words. So when I look down at her sleeping form, I wonder exactly what it is that I feel for her. I still didn’t know.

  The sex was incredible, and I didn’t expect it to be. There has been only one way for me to get off, and it was not ordinary. So to have conventional sex, left me standing naked, looking down at someone who I don’t quite understand, let alone explain my feelings for her.

  My phone lights up on the nightstand next to her head. Her body shines brighter from the light of it. How could someone so perfect, be laying alive in my bed right now? Who just had my cock buried so deep inside her, and still close her eyes like she’s safe.

  Was she safe? I wasn’t so sure.

  I don’t want to answer the phone. I know it’s Kazier or one of the boys. I prefer standing here, exactly where I am, watching her. Watching her chest rise and fall, her tits going up and down with each breath. If she could see me, if she woke up, she’d be scared. I know that for sure.

  “Yes,” I breathe into the phone, trying not to speak too loudly so as to wake her up. She doesn’t even stir. My hands beg to touch her, so I run my fingers down between her breasts. She moves slightly, her hand coming up to mine, touching my hand then breathing again normally. Back to sleep.

  “You need to come now. I’m texting you the address. Bring your gun,” Viktor says into the phone hanging up on me. I lift my hand then place it back on her skin. It’s too soft to be real. I needed to mark it with my hands in the shower while I fucked her, and made her bite me, hard. I needed more from her, wanted more from her. She partially understood, her teeth marks still have a slight sting on my shoulder every time I move it. Now if only I can train her to do more. I don’t bother covering her as I get dressed, I want to come home to her exactly the way she is right now—naked and helpless in my bed. Just the way I want her.

  ****

  When I arrive, Kazier’s black truck is parked on the street, with another black truck parked behind his. I climb out and walk straight to him. In the front seat is Anton, he smirks at me and taps Kazier’s shoulder to gain his attention.

  “Loverboy is here,” Anton teases. He’s so fucking annoying, like a teenage boy you want to backhand across the fucking face just for the sheer fun of it. I ignore his comment, and focus on Kazier, he turns away from me and nods his head to the apartment across from his car.

  “They’re selling my shit. Trying to sell higher, and killing our middle men.” I look again, the house is dark. Just as I’m about to reply, footsteps come up from behind me. Freya, Kazier’s ex-fiancée, and Viktor stand behind me. I look to her, wondering what the fuck she’s doing here, she looks away from my eyes fast. Viktor holds his smirk, his lips fight the twitch.

  “Why is she here?” I direct my question to Kazier. Anton pokes his head out of the car and looks to Freya then pops his head back in.

  “She followed them. She thinks she wants to be us.”

  “I do not, you fuckhead. And watch your mouth. We can see who’s faster at cutting each other’s throat.”

  Viktor’s head drops and he shakes his head. Anton laughs at her outburst. I look at her with hard eyes, wondering what the fuck she’s talking about.

  “Tell her to leave, I don’t like her.” It’s parti
ally true, I don’t like anyone. Not even sure about how I feel toward a woman that’s in my bed right now. She has my feelings so fucked up. I should have slit her throat when I had the chance.

  “You can’t tell me to leave,” she pipes up. She looks from me to the men around us, and no one says anything. “You can’t,” she says making herself believe it.

  “You leave, or I leave.”

  “Leave, Freya,” Kazier says.

  I watch as her face becomes red. Viktor’s hand comes up to rest on her back, and she slaps it away. She doesn’t say anything as she stomps off and climbs back into the car behind Kazier’s and drives away, giving us the finger when she drives by, making Anton bend over pissing himself laughing.

  “Do you know how hard I’ve tried to get rid of her these last few days? She doesn’t want to stay home.” He rolls his eyes. “She doesn’t want to be around this fuck.” He thumbs at Kazier to which Kazier hits him in return. “All she wants to do is annoy me and this slum who’s keen as a biscuit for her.” He points to Viktor, but Viktor doesn’t say a word. I guess he’s used to Anton’s rambling shit.

  Kazier steps out of the car, walking around to where we are. Anton follows suit sliding out as well. Kazier looks across the road, and a light comes on then quickly turns off.

  “Alive or dead?” I ask him.

  Anton shakes his head. “You want everyone dead. Alive, dickhead,” he replies walking ahead of us.

  I stand there and wait for Kazier’s words. He is, after all, the only one I take orders from.

  “Preferably alive, I’ll need them to make the money back they’ve stolen. But if they piss you off…” he stops talking and looks to me, “…scratch that. I think everyone pisses you off. If they piss me off, kill them,” he says nodding his head and walking toward Anton who’s already halfway across the street. Viktor walks with us, and just before we reach the stairs the door opens, and Anton pulls out two guns, holds them up to the face of the person who answered the door and the other one is pointed to the door that’s half opened.

  “Tell him to move, or I’ll kill him,” Anton directs. The man at the door nods his head toward them behind the door, and another man steps out from behind it. The guys look at both of us, taking us in then taking a step back letting Anton step inside. Guns are still raised at both their heads. We take the steps slowly and the men back further inside as we follow. Viktor walks straight past them and begins to move around the house. My job is to make sure nothing happens to Kazier. I am, after all, here to make sure he stays alive. If I fail, I’ll probably be joining him in whatever hell he ends up in.

  Viktor ends up walking out gripping a man by his shirt, the guy’s eyes widen when they see what else he’s holding—kilos of cocaine—which is obviously not theirs. Kazier walks to him and yanks it from his grasp, splits the bag open with a knife and tastes it. He stays silent for a second before he turns the knife and points it to the now three men. They don’t look too scared, which surprises me, for all they know we could kill them at any second. Instead, they look relaxed, as if they’re thinking if we haven’t killed them yet, why would we do it now. Wrong, one improper fidget and a bullet will go straight between his eyes.

  The night before, Kazier restocked the black market with kidneys, lungs, eyes, and other body parts. His victims were users that had been avoiding paying him. They had their warnings, reached their limits, so payment was to be made one way or another. And unfortunately for them, but not for me, their price was death. And I was the bringer of it, after killing both, I ended back up on Pollie’s doorstep.

  She shouldn’t have opened the door as I was on a massive high and hookers are my usual go to. But I knew where she was, and I wanted her, like the night calls for the darkness, she was it. I don’t know how I managed to walk out, I don’t know how I didn’t tie her to the bed and do everything I wanted to do the minute I saw her.

  “This isn’t yours,” Kazier says snapping my mind from thoughts of Pollie. She clogs my head more times than I want.

  The man looks to the drugs in his hand, then back at him. “Yes, they are.”

  Kazier nods his head to Viktor, who walks up to the man that spoke and places his knife straight in his eye. He drops, his friends jump backward away from their fallen friend, and even further away from us.

  “Now you know I’m not joking when I ask a question. So tell me… where did you get this?”

  The two men look at each other, afraid to speak.

  One punches the other in the arm. “Tell him, man, I’m not dying because of this shit.”

  All eyes go the man that obviously knows. He fidgets with his hands before he speaks, “Alastair said it was easy money. All we had to do was rob a few street guys. So we did.” He shrugs his shoulders.

  “You stole from me, from the Smirnov.”

  Their eyes widen at the name, they know it well. Everyone with a pulse in this city knows the name.

  “We… we d-didn’t… m-mean to. We d-didn’t… k-know,” one man stutters as he speaks.

  “I’m in a considerably nice mood, possibly because I just got my cock sucked. So, you have twelve hours to make up for my losses.”

  “We can’t! We don’t have that kind of money.”

  Kazier looks back to me, I pull my gun out, and the man starts screaming.

  “No. No. We can do it.”

  “If you don’t, there’s only one way I can get my money back, and that’s by the hands of this man.” Kazier nods to me. “Trust me when I say, sell your soul first before you meet the end of his knife.” He turns and walks out.

  Anton keeps his gun raised as we walk out, smirking at the men.

  “You don’t want that man’s hands anywhere on you. So I would hurry,” he says following us out.

  Chapter 10

  Pollie

  I wake in a bed I’m not familiar with, but the smell I know. I sit up and knows it’s late. The door closes downstairs then the stomping of boots begin to move up toward me. I touch next to me to see if he’s there, and he’s not. The door creaks open, and I instantly know it’s him. It’s then I realize I’m naked, completely naked without even a sheet covering me. My skin breaks out in goosebumps.

  “Did you leave?” I ask him.

  He hasn’t moved. I know he’s there. I don’t know how exactly, just that his presence is so intense I can feel it anywhere. His breathing is quiet and I have excellent hearing, so for me to not be able to hear him, it scares me.

  “Yes,” he replies. I hear the ruffling of clothes, then him stepping closer to me. His fingers touch my skin and he lifts my chin so I’m looking upward. “I’m going to fuck you again, with your conventional.”

  A shiver breaks out over my skin. That wasn’t my kind of conventional, but I won’t tell him differently, because even if I didn’t know it, I still loved it despite my better judgment. I nod my head in his hands, his fingers scroll downward, going over my breast. He stops on my left breast and twists my nipple in his fingers, making a spark down below that I didn’t know could happen from a simple touch. His touch is hard, nowhere near gentle. I don’t think he knows how to be gentle, even when he holds my hand, he holds it like I may run away at any minute.

  “Am I staying?” I ask as his fingers travel lower, going down below. He doesn’t answer me straight away, just keeps up his torture. He reaches my clit, strokes it with his finger, dipping it in then bringing it out to rub over my clit again. Then he pinches it with the same force he just used on my nipple. I jump backward, but he holds me in place with a hand to my thigh.

  “Yes, don’t think about leaving.” His voice sounds dangerous, and I wonder if it’s only because he’s ready and wants to fuck.

  A part of me says no, that I should be scared because he’s not talking about that, he plans to keep me. Whether I like it or not.

  He grabs the back of my knees, pushes them up and placing me on my back. Then he spreads me wide. I feel exposed. What does he see when he looks down there,
is it disgusting? Then I have my answer when his mouth lands, he does one long stroke from bottom to top with his tongue, making me quiver with my legs still up in the air. He repeats it, another long stroke, then he’s gone, leaving me open and wanting more.

  I try to sit up, but he won’t allow it. His hands hold my legs firmly in place. I wait for him to speak, to let me know what’s going on, but not a word leaves his mouth. I can feel the build-up, no one moves, we’re both locked in place. Then it happens again, he slams into me, without any warning, completely taking me by surprise. I scream again, my hand flies up to cover my mouth.

  I’ve never screamed so much during sex.

  Am I a screamer now?

  Or is it just him that makes me scream, with his brutal yet off the charts sex? A part of me wants to know what he means when he says this is not his conventional. I want to know what makes him think this is normal. And how this isn’t to him. It excited me, yet scares me all at the same time.

  My back arches upward like it has a mind of its own. His body comes forward, I can feel him hovering over me. Then his hand is in my hair, he pulls it hard, I’m pretty sure I can hear the snap of my own hair with each pull. I reach for his hands, untangling them, pulling my hair free. He doesn’t say anything so I drag him down to me for a kiss. He lets me, and his thrusts become not so rough—almost, almost, normal.

  I know it won’t last long. Before I can crave more of his kisses, he bites my lip, then his hands are under me picking me up with him still inside of me. Then I’m turned and slammed into a wall. Pain shoots through my back the moment it happens. It makes me dizzy, as my head hits far too hard. His hands start moving me up and down, up and down. I can’t keep up, I don’t even bother keeping up before my next thought leaves my brain. I scream again, louder than before.