Glazov's Legacy (Born Bratva Book 2) (9 page)

Glazov

“You’re nosy!”

I growl into the phone, aggravated with my wife. What the fuck is she doing spying on Kodiak’s girlfriend?

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Liar! You know exactly what I’m talking about. I’m talking about you stalking Kodiak’s girlfriend.”

“How would you know I’m stalking her, unless you’re stalking me?”

“Because Kodiak called me, wanting to know why the fuck his mother was questioning his girlfriend.”

“I didn’t realize she was his girlfriend. I assumed she was just another poor victim being subjugated by the ridiculously dominant men in this family, just a pawn in the games they play.”

“I don’t fucking play games with you. You’re real bold on the phone, Ptichka. You need to watch your step.”

“I know, Glazov. You’re always watching. I have to go now. Bye.”

I push the button to hang up and toss my phone onto the desk. My wife has the ability to irritate me even more and even quicker than Antonio Wayne does.

Glazov

I eye Novak as we discuss business with the Ramirez brothers.

“So, Antonio doesn’t know you’ll be watching him via live feed, correct?”

“Antonio doesn’t need to know. You pack those guns up with that planted Intel device in our warehouse here. I’ll get a few Shestyorkas to pick them up and deliver them to New York. They’ll make sure everything is wired where we can see what’s going on. When the exchange goes down, we’ll be lurking in the shadows via a live video stream while he deals with Aedan O’Hara. I’d like to know why a member of the IRA chose to kidnap some unknown model. This will enable me to satisfy my curiosity, and it will give me insight into Antonio’s psyche.”

“Why didn’t you ask Antonio Wayne why he’s doing this favor for Damon D’Angelo? Wouldn’t that have been simpler?”

“Nothing is simple with Antonio Wayne. He’ll tell me what he wants me to know, which may or may not be the truth.”

“I have to be honest with you, cousin. I don’t like it. Letting that shipment of arms be used as a favor just isn’t like you.”

“If it was anybody but the Ramirez brothers, I wouldn’t be doing it. Look at it like this, Novak; it’s better for them to be indebted to us rather than angry with us.”

“I still don’t like it. If that fucker loses our guns…”

“Then he’ll pay for them. Antonio may be the type of man who likes stirring shit up, but when it comes to business, he and his brother are trustworthy. Like I said, better for them to owe us.”

“Okay, you’re the boss.”

We both look up to see our wives coming in, arms full of shopping bags and books.

“Well, it looks like you two ladies had fun.”

“We had a blast,” Kathleen laughs.

“I’m sure you did.”

I answer, cutting my eyes at her. I was already pissed about her stalking Kodiak’s woman, and then she had the audacity to hang up on me.

Novak gives me a knowing look.

“I have a feeling these two will be getting in a lot of trouble together.”

“And I have a feeling we’re going to be watching them very closely.”

Though I’m speaking to Novak, I never take my eyes off my wife.

Kathleen

I flail in my restraints. He has me tied spread eagle on the bed, and the hemp rope bites into my skin with the erratic movement. I know he has purposely left the binds with enough give just to watch me struggle. Glazov likes that—to see the hope of escape in my eyes, to watch me fight to get free—before he snatches all possibility away. He stands next to the bed, looking down on me; his stare is ominous and holds a wicked promise of how much he is going to relish his newfound control over me.

Everything about my husband is threatening, dangerous, and just screams menace. The way he stands over me, looking at my body like he wants to eat me alive; the way he slowly pulls at his tie, loosening it around his strong neck; the time he takes to roll his shirt sleeves, revealing his muscled, tan forearms; all give testament to how much he enjoys taking time to toy with his prey.

He leans down until his face is so close I can feel his breath as he speaks.

“It appears the only way I can keep you under my watchful eye, is to temporarily clip your little wings.”

I watch him intently as he pulls his tie through his dress shirt collar. Very slowly, he wraps it around my eyes, securely tying it in the back to blindfold me.

“You are a very nosy little girl. Now, would you like to tell me why you were following the woman I already have our son watching.”

“Why do you have him watching her?”

I am grasping for information I’m not certain he will reveal. I can hear him tutting in my direction.

“If I told you that, Ptichka, I might have to kill you.”

“You’ve had twenty years to kill me. If you haven’t done it yet, I doubt you’ll do it now.”

I never see it coming, but I damn sure feel it when he grasps a handful of my hair and jerks my head upwards. He pulls me in close to his mouth so I can hear his ominous, whispered threat.

“I’m the one asking the questions. You’re the one answering them.”

“I just saw her, and I wanted to know where she was going.”

“And what did you find out, my nosy little investigator?”

“She went to the library.”

“No deep, dark, hidden secrets?”

He’s being facetious, so I don’t even dignify his question with a response.

“I wonder if you were spying on her, or were you spying on me through her, trying to find out why she is on my radar?”

“Both,” I answer truthfully.

It will do me no good to lie to him. I jump when I feel small spikes bite into one of my nipples. It feels like a Wartenberg wheel, but I can’t be certain. His breath tickles my ear as he whispers his next statement.

“I want to watch you get fucked.”

My heart races with fear, but it’s not because I think he’ll bring in another man; he isn’t one to share. No, the fear is manifesting because I never know what to expect from my unpredictable husband. My abdomen quivers as the tiny spikes roll over my skin. He starts at my taut stomach and then pinwheels the tool across my inner thighs, making me squirm. As quickly as the delicate touch started, he stops it. I can hear the rustle of what sounds like my husband undressing.

The bed sinks, and I feel him position himself between my legs. He toys with my folds, testing for readiness that I know he will find because just the anticipation of the unknown with this man gets me wet.

“You are one of a kind, Ptichka. You feed off the fear I provoke in you; you need what I give you.”

His gentle touch to my core morphs into rough penetration as he plunges a phallus deep inside me. Lifting my hips as much as the restraints allow, I groan and meet each thrust my husband subjects me to.

“When it is a man’s will to possess something, he ensures the possibility of attaining it by purposeful thought, thinking it through. I want to watch you get fucked, and we both know I don’t share, so here we are.”

The talking stops when his tongue makes contact with my clit. His mouth starts sucking, and I immediately fall apart, screaming out his name as I climax. I thrash over and over until my body collapses in an exhausted heap, ready to do whatever my husband wills.

 

Glazov

Subjected to my desires, I watch as she thrashes about like she is doing a dance to music only I know the score for; this is a sight I will never get tired of seeing. As much as I enjoy having her body tied up and at my mercy, though, I want to feel her legs and arms wrapped around me in fervent need. I crave the sensation of her clamping down on me as I take her and fill her depths. I yearn for the squeeze of her thighs around my waist as she tries to wrench my seed from my body.

My hands move quickly, untying the rope that binds her and sending it spilling onto the floor. I groan loudly as I push inside her. Buried deep within her core, is exactly where I need to be. She is my calm in the storm, and she brings me a sense of peace that I can find nowhere else.

My thrusts become violent and more rapid as I take, mark, and assure myself that she is still mine. She is the only woman who has ever affected me like this. She drives me insane with the need to take, take, take her—over and over again. It’s like she’s become an addiction that my body demands, sating my flesh to assure my mind that, even after all these years, she still belongs to me. My voice hisses menacingly as I explode inside her. My head lolls, her breasts providing the perfect pillowed comfort to rest my fucked-up head.

“You are so fucking beautiful, and you are so fucking mine!”

Other books

Blessed Are Those Who Mourn by Kristi Belcamino
The Storm by Margriet de Moor
Catch a Crooked Clown by Joan Lowery Nixon
The Pastures of Heaven by John Steinbeck
Don't Get Caught by Kurt Dinan