Chapter 9
John leans in and holds my face, pressing his lips to mine. His kiss is calm, seductive, and intense. I simply let the moment happen, allowing the desire to have him grow within me.
I feel frustrated, lost, and if I weren’t caught up in this mess, I’d be having some amazing sex with Adam. Many times, I give myself to sexual encounters purely out of compulsion—my body always seems to crave the adrenaline these moments provide, as if it satisfies and soothes my fears and anxieties.
I slide my hand gently across John’s face; his taste is a mix of mint and spearmint, with a faint hint of alcohol. I caress his chin, feeling the stubble, while his hands move over my breasts, tracing them sensually.
"Damn, I want you! Is it wrong to want you?" John asks as he plants soft kisses on my face.
"Then I’m wrong too, John," I reply, crawling across the car until I reach his seat. I climb onto his lap, straddling him.
I pull my breasts out, and he devours them with gentle bites and suction. My body trembles, and I surrender to the moment, to the desire growing inside me.
I feel a constant need for sex—it’s always been this way. I rub my needy pussy against his cock, already hard in his pants. John runs his hand over my face, sliding it down every part of my body. His hands are soft, his touch warm, and his scent—a woody cologne—triggers indecent thoughts in my mind.
The car feels too small for the movements of our heated bodies. I deepen our kiss and gently bite his lips.
"Damn, Sam is going to kill me for this!" John whispers, already afraid of the consequences of holding me in his arms.
"Screw Samuel Colt! Tonight, I’m yours, John!" My voice comes out provocatively as I feel his hands roaming my body.
His mouth explores me hungrily, and with every kiss and touch, it’s clear that he truly wants me.
***
When I entered the nightclub that night, the night that would change my life, I was overwhelmed by a memorable sensation. My eyes found Tatyana, and an inexplicable feeling consumed my entire being. I was drawn to that mysterious woman who exuded determination, evidenced by her courage to hold my gaze with every step I took toward the bar.
She is petite, slender, standing at 5’4”. Her long platinum blonde hair, piercing blue eyes like two large diamonds, and full, rosy lips that framed a rare, sexy smile captivated me. Her delicate face is accentuated by a wolf tattoo inked on her right arm. When she spoke to me, her voice carried a soft, high-pitched tone that seemed to awaken a barbaric, soulless side of me.
The moment I saw her, I wanted to fuck her, to bite her soft, pale skin, to feel her small body trapped against mine. I admit, the way she answered me so curtly in Adam’s office only fueled my desire to tame her. When I brought her home, she began to unravel my mind little by little. Her bold way of speaking, her fierce expression that could shift into something so sweet, left me confused. Now, I’m desperate to make her mine.
After this first week of exchanged provocative glances and experiencing her body in heated, passionate sex, I’m obsessed and intrigued by her. After all, it’s not every day I’m challenged by an insolent woman. Today, after feeling her pussy, I’m like a damned man possessed. The only thing I desire is to seize that defiant little creature.
I stare at the massive table in front of me, sitting in the main meeting house of the Bratva. A bottle of whiskey keeps me company while my men file in through the door. Almost every night, we discuss orders and plan our next steps. I endure this hellish place, surrounded by these sons of bitches.
My men arrange themselves randomly around the grand table, waiting for my orders.
“Listen up! I’ll only say this once!” I exclaim, almost shouting in a harsh tone that instantly captures their attention. “Our next target is the vice president! So, pay close attention! I need someone sharp as hell.” I grab my glass of whiskey and down it in one go. The liquid burns my throat, clearing my voice, which comes out even more menacing. “Leblon, I’m choosing you!”
“Yes, sir!” Leblon responds promptly.
The men who work for me are efficient, and most respect my authority. My father was the greatest leader of all time, and when I took over, there was some resistance from certain members. I hope to crush it completely as more challenging tasks arise.
“This weekend, I’ll outline the entire plan, but I want to kill that bastard myself. Understood?” I order, and they all place their hands on their chests in agreement.
“Yes, sir!”
“Now get the hell out of here!”
They all leave, and I head to my cabinet to grab another bottle of whiskey. I pour it into a glass and sit down, deep in thought. I could be planning murders, devising new extortions, but no—Tatyana’s audacious, maddening presence keeps invading my thoughts. Her boldness, her scent, and this consuming need to taste her on my tongue. I need to hear her moaning my name, claiming to be mine.
Today she defied me, and tomorrow I’ll punish her for being so insolent.
“You know what? I’m going to cage that wild beast in my arms right now,” I think to myself.
I stand and decide to head home tonight. I glance around the massive hall that reeks of alcohol. The room is rustic, dimly lit, the dark walls a constant reminder of work and death. I’m tired of avoiding home, tired of spending my nights here. Normally, I can’t stand the thought of going back—lying in bed next to Luara is repulsive, her voice grates on my nerves, leaving me drained. But the prospect of finding Tatyana and dominating her makes me forget all discomfort.
I grab my things and head home.