Deadly (Born Bratva Book 5) (4 page)

Anastasia

“Why the fuck is this door locked?” Roksana shouts over her loud knocking.

I rush to unlock it and face a woman whose eyes are full of suspicion. She gives me a hard look and then, apparently satisfied that I’m not up to no good, turns away and issues my marching orders from over her shoulder.

“Come on, then. It’s time for target practice,” she barks sharply as she strides down the hallway.

“So I’m going to be an assassin.” I don’t really want to say what I’m thinking.
I hope like hell I’m not the target in the practice you’re referring to.

“Like hell. You’re a
shestyorka
until the Pakhan says different.”

“What’s a
shestyorka
?”

“It’s a fucking errand boy—or girl, in your case.”

“So you’re a brigadier?”

She whips around so fast it startles me. The hard look on her face makes me brace for impact just in case she decides to smack the shit out of me. I quickly explain my question.

“I’ve been doing my homework. I’ve researched Bratva culture. I figure, if I want to fit in then I need to learn as much as I can.”

“I see. My brother Kodiak is a brigadier. If you’ve been doing your homework enough to know what a brigadier is, then you should have known what a
shestyorka
is. Details, Anastasia. Details.”

She opens a door leading outside to a shooting range. Oleg stands off to the side with another man who’s clearly a bodyguard or Bratva soldier of some kind. His immense size and a nose that looks like it’s taken its share of punches are a dead giveaway.

The man eyes me indifferently as he saunters over to a small storage shed that holds an arsenal of weapons. There are handguns, rifles, knives, even stars that are thrown to pierce an enemy. Roksana tells the brawny man what she wants, speaking casually as if she’s ordering a pizza. With all the crazy shit she’s wrapped up in, this is probably normal for her.

“Hand me the Dragunov SVD sniper rifle.”

“That’s my girl, going with the Russian-made rifle.”

She turns, eyeing her lover coyly through her thick lashes. “You know me; I love my Russian-made artillery.”

“Yes…I do know you,
kotik
. You’d do well to remember that.”

I ignore the double entendre. I’m more intrigued with the gorgeous rifle she’s holding. It may not be beautiful in the traditional sense of the word, but to me it’s breathtaking and I don’t resist the fantasies going through my mind of the damage I could do with it. One thing’s for sure: I’ve developed a fierce bloodlust.

I follow Oleg and Roksana to a large table beneath an outdoor pavilion. She sets the rifle on the table and opens a small black bag.

“I don’t like repeating myself so pay attention. This is a Dragunov SVD rifle. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll know how to assemble and disassemble it blindfolded. Here’s what you’ll need.” She’s talking as she’s working and I’m taking it all in. “This is a 1mm Hex key. This is a 2mm Hex key and, last but not least, this is a 3 ½ mm Hex key. These are all the tools you need to disassemble or reassemble this rifle. Familiarizing yourself with your weapon is critical. Your weapon is an extension of you. I want you to be able to shoot a fly off a horse’s ass. When a hit comes up, you have one opportunity to do it right. There is no room for error. Failure to take out your target would leave at least one witness. Witnesses talk. Witnesses cause wars.

“My father will expect you to get in and out as quickly and quietly as possible. It’s my job to teach you how to do that flawlessly. It’s
your
job to take that training seriously. Your effectiveness will reflect on me, so do not fucking let me down, which would make me look incompetent in front of the Pakhan. That would be unacceptable.”

I could tell her that she has no reason to be worried, but I know actions speak louder than words around here. It’s not the threats of a mad woman that inspire me to want to do my best, although I do take those threats seriously; it isn’t even the terror her father instills in me. The thing that compels me to train hard and give my all to become a Bratva assassin is really pretty simple—I like killing.

I can’t wait to get started.

Oleg

My Roksana is as lethal as her father and has the intuitive cunning that so often goes with being of the female persuasion—a deadly combination. My cock stirs at the memory of all the times I’ve had her spectacular combination of fire and defiance strapped down and writhing beneath me.

In all the years I’ve watched over her, I’ve never permitted another man to touch her. I almost beat a local high school jock to death just for trying to kiss her goodnight. She has taunted me relentlessly from day one. She’s a natural born cock tease and has always known how to push my buttons to turn me on. She seemed to relish idea of making me want her because she knew I couldn’t have her back in those early days.

Back then I would go to bed night after night stroking my cock as I imagined being buried deep inside her. The only thing that kept the girl safe was my loyalty to her father. I was shocked, and more than a little pleased, when he mandated that she marry me. From that day on, it wasn’t Roksana who held the control but me. Glazov knows that the control I now hold over her goes far beyond physical domination, it also secures her safety and wellbeing. That’s the most important thing to the Pakhan—his family’s safety.

I had no idea the Pakhan was aware of the torment she subjected me to. The man is a master at hiding what he knows. Just like he knew what she was doing to me, he also knew what giving me her hand in marriage would do—secure his bloodthirsty daughter to the only man who could hold his own with her.

Our futures were joined by the Pakhan in the foyer of this very house after I was arrested for nearly killing yet another jock who had tried to touch her in a nightclub. Of course, she had instigated all the drama to get my attention.

She got much, much more than she bargained for when we got home.

After Nikita bailed me out of jail, Glazov was waiting for us at the front door, livid that Roksana’s mind games had brought undue attention to our cell. After having watched her torment me for years, he decided enough was enough and promised her to me on the spot. Glazov is still old school about certain things, so ending the disastrous evening by arranging his only daughter’s marriage seemed perfectly normal to him. I was more than agreeable, myself.

I took what was mine that very night.

After years of playing at being the sexual aggressor, Roksana was caught off guard when the Pakhan gave his tacit permission for me to claim her. I knew it was what we both wanted; we had a long history of circling each other, the sexual tension palpable in the air around us. But she hadn’t expected Glazov to be the one to call her bluff.

I remember the night well. Glazov had just taken the stairs after issuing his edict – probably eager to resume his own nocturnal activities that had been disrupted by our drama – leaving Roksana and me alone in the downstairs hallway…

“You can’t make me do anything,” she fumed, clearly flustered by her change of fortune.

“By the time I finish training you in my brand of pleasure and pain, you’ll be begging me to tell you what to do. You’ll crave the sting of my hand on your ass, the feel of our bodies sliding against each other, skin on skin. We both know the way you’ve always wanted to be taken, Roksana; now you finally have a man who knows how to fucking do it.”

“Fuck. You.” Her voice was hoarse, her breathing labored.

“Oh, I’m going to do so much more than fuck you. For the rest of your God-given days I’m going to make every inch of you mine. I won’t rest until I’ve claimed you in every way a man can claim his woman,” I said silkily, walking steadily toward her. “And then? I’ll start all over again.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Would you now?…”

And with that, I lunged, tossing her over my shoulder and taking the stairs two at a time with her hissing and spitting the whole way. I paused at the top of the stairs when I saw Glazov standing in the open doorway of his suite of rooms at the end of the hall, observing our progress with amused interest. He gave me a brief nod before returning to his room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Once inside her suite of rooms, I kicked the door shut and headed straight for her bed. She landed on the bed with a bounce as pillows scattered across the mattress and onto the floor. Taking advantage of her momentary confusion, I rifled through a few of her dresser drawers and looked around the room, taking stock of the materials that were available to me: sleep mask, scarves, stockings.

I was nothing if not resourceful.

“What…?!” she gasped as I efficiently began removing her clothes. It took every ounce of restraint I had not to lick every inch of her skin like a lion grooming its mate. I wasted no time getting to work tying her wrists to the headboard.

“You fucker!” she shrieked indignantly as she caught on to her new circumstances.

“All in good time,
kotik
,” I said easily as I pushed her legs apart and secured her ankles with the silk scarves I had found draped over her dresser mirror. I leaned over her, placing a hand next to either side of her head, my chest heaving with anticipation and the primal urge to penetrate my woman hard and fast. “Now, I’d say turnabout is fair play, is it not?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she hissed.

“Sure you do. You’ve flaunted your body in front of me, reminding me of what I couldn’t have, since the moment we met. But you belong to me now. This body…” I murmured as I stared hungrily at the full breasts and pretty pink nipples that I had only been able to imagine until this moment. “This body belongs to me now, and I’ve had years to think about what I’m going to do with it.
Years
, Roksana…”

She writhed wildly on the bed, trying in vain to fight her silken restraints, but all she accomplished was to reveal to me the slick arousal that had gathered between her legs. Her pussy was smooth, just as I had always pictured it, and her inner lips glistened with her desire for me.

“I have to taste that,” I growled as I undressed quickly and moved over her.

“You…what are…oh…Oleg…” she moaned as my tongue slid through her sweet slit for the first time. I wanted to make this good for her, so I tried to take my time, moving my tongue slowly at first before flicking madly at her clit. She couldn’t see me grinning against her wet heat when every muscle in her body tensed and she began to moan incoherently as she came against my mouth. I lavished her pussy with attention, tasting her over and over again, driving her to another peak of pleasure before I rose up onto my knees, my chest heaving as I struggled for control.

Roksana’s heavy-lidded gaze nearly did me in when she rolled her hips temptingly through several aftershocks. I released her silken ankle restraints and moved in close to her with my knees spread apart, then sat back on my heels. Lifting her thighs over mine, I pulled her toward me until only her head and shoulders rested on the mattress. She lay before me like an offering, open and ready for me. I slid the length of my aching cock along her drenched pussy lips, the friction against her clit working her into a frenzy all over again.

I had always known that we would be explosive together in bed, so this wasn’t a surprise. But, still, I needed to know that she wanted this as much as I did.

Bending over her, I braced my weight on my forearm and positioned my cock at her entrance, knowing that I was only seconds away from paradise.

“You with me?” I rasped, my voice barely audible as I fought to control the mindless urge to rut, to fuck.

“Do it,” she gasped.

I gritted my teeth against the searing pleasure as I worked my way in, her narrow channel resisting me before she finally relaxed and let me in to the hilt. I surged fully inside her with a roar, reveling in her gasp of pain as I breached her hymen and took her for my own.

“Quit daydreaming!” Roksana’s finger poking into my forehead causes me to grab her wrist and twist it just enough for her to wince in pain. The woman still lives to torment me and I live to make her pay for her antics. It’s the perfect match made in Bratva heaven.

From the day I first saw her, I haven’t been tempted to touch another woman. I knew then that I’d stop at nothing to have the fiery redhead who was the daughter of one of the world’s most powerful men.

“Quit fucking with me, girl. You’re going to get more than you bargained for.”

“Promises, promises; we both know I like it rough.”

“And I like giving it to you rough. But we still have depths of depravity to explore that you aren’t quite ready for yet. So, like I said, don’t fuck with me.”

The look in her eyes is enough to push me over the edge, but her father’s voice over the intercom saves her…for now. When my father-in-law beckons, everything else goes on hold. Fucking my woman senseless will have to wait.

“We both know that keeping the Pakhan waiting isn’t an option,” I say as I stroke her bottom lip with my thumb, wistfully imagining my cock there instead. “I’ll be taking this matter up with you and this mouth later.”

“I’m so looking forward to it,” she purrs, looking back at me over her shoulder as she sashays out the door.

She knows better than to walk in front of me, so I storm into the hall, determined to remind her of her place. I fist a handful of her hair and yank her back to me, licking the shell of her ear as I growl, “Don’t walk in front of me. If there’s a bullet headed in your direction, it’s my job to take it.”

“My own superhero. What more could a girl want?”