Ruby Mayhem: A Russian Mafia Romance (Vyronov Bratva Book 1)

Chapter 3



His touch makes me burn with a hunger I’ve never known.

His hands explore my body, cupping my breasts, thumbing my aching nipples, fingers tracing the curve of my waist and the swell of my hips. I can’t focus on what he’s going to do next because that aching need seems to be everywhere.

“Ohhh…” I sigh, stretching out across the wide bed. Aside from a pair of white cotton panties, I’m naked. The night air feels like a caress over my flesh. It’s a caress that’s nothing like his though. His touch is a paradox; rough yet gentle, commanding yet tender.

I arch my back, yielding to his exploration, my body responding with an urgency that surprises me.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs as he runs his eyes over me in a way that burns almost as much as his fingertips. I move sinuously, loving the fact that he seems to like what he’s seeing. But soon, his attention is moving back to where his hands are tracking a path to my lower body.

His fingers slip beneath the elastic of my panties, a thrill running through me as he cups my mound. His fingers are taunting, pressing against my throbbing pussy, not sliding in, just exerting enough pressure to make me bob my hips up for more. I’m wet, ready for him, my body betraying my innocence. I don’t know what I need to do next, but I know that he’s going to show me.

He groans as he feels my wetness, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “These must go.” His voice is hoarse with desire, his accent thicker now.

I can feel his cock pressing against me, hard and insistent. It feels bigger than I’d ever imagined. Big enough to make me nervous, yet I want him more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I want to feel his length inside me, to know what it’s like to have every inch of my burning body claimed by this man.

He slides my panties down my legs, his eyes never leaving mine. Now I’m bare before him, vulnerable and exposed as he spreads my thighs wide and looks at my naked pussy like it’s an oasis in the middle of a desert. There’s no fear in me, only anticipation. I watch as he lowers himself between my legs, his breath warm against my inner thighs.

“Yesss…” I whisper the word in a low hiss as his stubble grazes the sensitive skin. Even though I’m watching him, it doesn’t prepare me for what comes next. His tongue flicks out, tasting me, and I gasp at the sudden intensity.

“Oh, my God!”

He chuckles. It is a low rumble that vibrates through me, covering my skin with goosebumps. Then he dives in, his mouth hot and wet against my most intimate place.

Holy shit!

The feeling is unreal. I cry out, my fingers tangling in his hair as he hungrily devours me, his tongue and lips working in harmony as he teases my clit and laps at the juices that are trickling from me.

The pleasure continues to build, morphing into a relentless wave that threatens to consume me. I can feel my orgasm approaching, my body tensing, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. And then it hits me and washes me away like the mother of all waves. A white-hot explosion that leaves every inch of me trembling and breathless.

“Fuck! Oh… fuck!” I cry uncontrollably, one hand twisting into his hair, the other clutching at the bedsheets. My back arches clean off the mattress as the tidal wave of pure pleasure washes through me. He gives a low moan of approval as he keeps his attention on my clit, not letting up, even as I flop back, wrung out, and panting.

“Ooohhh…” I exhale as the sensations begin to ebb and flow again. Except now the air is cooling the sweat on my fevered skin, tendrils of hair tickling at my cheeks as his mouth eases from me even though I’m desperate for more.

“Don’t stop! Please…” I know I shouldn’t beg but I do. Yet he doesn’t continue; instead, he’s withdrawing from me, his hands sliding away.

No!

I open my eyes, expecting to see his triumphant smile, his violently beautiful face, but instead, I’m met with darkness. I blink, confusion setting in as the realization hits me:

He’s not here anymore.

I’m alone in my bed, the sheets tangled around my legs. I open my eyelids and all I see is a pale ceiling looming over me. There is no triumphant smile, no beautifully violent face. Only the four walls of my room and an empty ceiling staring back at me.

Dammit!

It was all a dream.

A vivid, erotic dream that left me aching and unsatisfied. I close my eyes again, trying to recapture the sensation, the feel of his hands on my body, his mouth on my skin. But it’s gone. Vanished like smoke in the wind.

“Dammit!” I say out loud this time, frustrated by the ebbing sensations, and annoyed at myself for harboring these feelings for this man in the first place. For the same man who bought me.

What the hell is wrong with you, Tiana?

Are you out of your freaking mind?

Maybe it’s the fact that I’m still a virgin at twenty-one. Maybe it’s the fact that my father had me sheltered my entire life. Maybe my hormones are going crazy. Maybe I’m a little crazy. Whatever the reason is, the aching sensation of hunger continues to consume my body. It’s ridiculous.

“Stop thinking about him you idiot,” I scold myself as I finally rip myself away from the dream. I’m still covered in sweat, the sheets clinging to my skin like a damp shroud.

Get your ass up Teetee.

Groaning a sound that surprises even me, I flung back the covers. My body is still on fire. I need to clear my head.

A cold shower.

That’s what you need, girl.

I reluctantly stand on my feet and I shuffle towards the bathroom.

***

“Wait a minute… Your father did what!?”

“He sold me, Rox.” My breath catches in my throat. “He put me on auction and sold me to some shady guy.”

“Holy fucking shit! Are you for real?” My best friend’s normally upbeat voice is squawking across the line. “But how…? What…? I don’t get it.”

“Neither do I.” I swallow hard. I still can’t believe it myself.

I look around my bedroom. It’s filled with familiar items that bring back a lifetime memories. The damp bedsheets that were wrapped around me barely an hour ago as I was having my wild-wet dream, are rumpled beneath the same comforter I’ve had since I was a kid. The bookshelf holds books from my childhood, now worn from multiple readings.

I left the heavy drapes shut after I got up. There is only a small side lamp in the room that is illuminated; it feels like a place of mourning right now as I try to grasp the fact that I’ve just spent my last night here. Everything around me holds a weight of nostalgia and the realization that it will all soon be left behind.

Which is strange, since so much of my life here has been filled with loneliness.

“Jesus. I don’t know what to say… What a dickwad, babe. I’ve always known your dad was a piece of work, but this…” Roxie trails off.

“Tell me about it,” I mutter. I sink back against my soft pillows, pull the comforter up to my chin, and tuck the phone between my ear and my shoulder as I hug myself. I have to force myself to unclench my hands, which have curled into fists. “I mean, Dad’s never been the kissy-lovey type, and let’s face it, he hasn’t been around much, either. I just never expected this, though.”

“He’s your pops, Tee! He may be an ass-hat, and sure, he never let you have a life, but he’s your father. I mean… how could someone do something like this to their own flesh and blood?”

I give a one-shouldered shrug even though she can’t see me. “I don’t know, Rox.” My voice is small. I pull my knees up to my chest. God. I don’t know what to do. I felt trapped my entire life by my father, but this… this is a whole new level of trapped.

Roxie makes a huffing sound. “I hope his dick rots and falls off… the bastard! But never mind that. Who is it? Who did he sell you to?”

I frown. “I don’t really know. I think he’s some kind of mobster, which is not surprising since my dad has never really been above board. And besides, only a lowlife would do something like this, right?”

“For sure,” Roxie says. “Do you know his name? Your owner- I mean, this guy?”

“Someone called Vyronov. Russian.” I recall the details from the conversation I had with my father afterward. The conversation that had ended with me screaming and throwing things, and finally being locked in my room. It’s not the first time. But this time feels worse than any other.

There’s a choking sound on the other end of the line. “Wait… Vyronov? Kirill Vyronov? Are you kidding me?”

“I think so. Do you know him?”

“Babe! Everybody knows him!” Roxie pauses. “Well, everybody knows of him. I’m sure I’ve heard my dad talk about him when he’s been hanging with those thugs he calls buddies. The guy stays out of the spotlight mainly. Big time badass Bratva boss.”

“Bratva?”

“Yeah, you know… Russian mafia.” Roxie’s father has a moral compass almost as skewed as my dad’s, and she’s grown up surrounded by dodgy types. Well, almost as skewed. I don’t think he would ever sell his daughter like mine just did. But if anyone would know what I’m about to get into, it would be Roxie.

“I know what the Bratva is, Rox.” I swallow hard. “I just…” Never expected to be tangled up in it, is what I’d meant to say, but now that I think about it, I’ve probably been tangled in shit like that my whole life. Through my father and his shady deals.

This one tops the list, though.

“So, did you meet him?” Roxie is asking. “I don’t think there’s ever been any photos or footage captured of the guy. I think he’s old, though. Like forty-something. Did you see him?”

I stay silent for a second. “Um. Yes,” I finally say.

“And? Is he wrinkled and gray?” Roxie is determined to dig out every detail.

“No, actually…” I’m suddenly reliving the moment when those predatorial eyes locked with mine. It had been like the air was sucked from my lungs. My skin had tingled, and I was frozen, unable to look away from his magnetic gaze. The intensity of it was overwhelming, making my heart race. I had never experienced anything like the power of his stare before. It was as if he could see right through me. “No, he’s not wrinkled. Or gray.” There may have been a few threads of silver in his impeccably styled black hair, but there was nothing gray about him. Dark and brooding would be a better description. For a moment, I think back to the wild dream I had about him a mere hour ago. The way he touched me, the way he caressed me, the way he made my body throb with need.

What the hell Tee?

You need to get your head examined!

“Right, so you saw him.” Roxie’s voice pulls me back from my thoughts. “And he’s not gray, and he’s not wrinkled. Is he saggy and paunchy? Because I’d barf if I had to-” She stops. “Sorry, babe. I mean…”

“Rox, he’s not gray, wrinkled, saggy or paunchy, alright?” Totally the opposite, actually – tall, muscular, with insanely broad shoulders. Very good-looking in an intense kind of way – but there’s no way I’m going to say that out loud.

“So then, is he hot?” Roxie says the words for me. “Like one of those silver fox types?”

“For God’s sake, Rox! Some people might say he’s hot, okay?” Probably any woman in her right mind, but I’m not going there. I cannot think of him that way. That can never happen again. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a sick pig who buys women. And pays extra for virgins.”

“Oh, geez… Shit, I’m sorry, Tee.” There’s a shuffling sound, and I can imagine Roxie shifting awkwardly. “He bought your V-card, didn’t he?”

“Shut up,” I mutter. This wasn’t the way I ever expected to face losing my virginity.

“Still,” Roxie’s voice is suddenly almost cheery. “It could be worse, right? I mean, you could be losing it to some dude who sucks at sex. But an older guy… who’s hot… that might not be so bad. I bet he knows what he is doing. Maybe it won’t be that bad.”

“For fuck’s sake, Rox! I’ve been sold to some sleazy mob boss as a sex toy. It is bad!”

“Sure, but look on the bright side: at least you’re out from under your fuck-head father’s thumb. And these mob guys take care of their women. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from Dad’s buddies.”

“No Roxie! There is no bright side to this scenario,” I snap. I pull my comforter closer up under my chin. I can’t believe how blasé she’s suddenly being. I love my bestie, but sometimes she creates bizarrely romanticized versions of reality. “I can’t see any way that I’m ever going to be happy as this man’s plaything.”

“Look, I’m just trying to help you see a silver lining. This might not be the end of the world, Tee.” Roxie grows firm. “There’s no getting out of it, right?”

I pinch my lips together. “I’m stuck,” I acknowledge. “Dad said I shouldn’t bother trying to run to the cops. They’ve been paid off. And this guy’s above the law, it would seem. So no, I can’t get out of this.”

“Then try to make the best of it. Change your perspective. You’re moving in with a hot older guy who’s clearly loaded, and will probably take care of you. How much did he pay for you, by the way?”

“I don’t see how-”

“Come on! Just tell me already.”

“A million,” I mumble.

“A million freaking dollars??” she shrieks. “Oh my God, Tiana! He paid a million dollars for you? Holy fucking shit! That’s next level!”

“What difference does that make?”

“A big difference. He’s not going to treat you bad if he spent that much money, babe. He’ll take care of you, or he’d be losing on his investment.”

“Investment? Gee, thanks.” That doesn’t make me feel better at all. I drop my comforter and sit up straighter. I’m going to have to get up at some point.

“Fuck. I wish some dude would pay a million bucks for me. Might finally get out of this shithole life my father got stuck in. Idiot can’t even work his way up the ranks.”

“Stop it! This isn’t about you, Roxanne. I’m freaking out here. You could at least be serious about it.”

“I am serious, Tee. Like you said, you have to do this thing; there’s no way out. So suck it up and turn it to your advantage. Be nice to him, then let him get you cool clothes, jewelry… a Ferrari. Hell, maybe you’ll score a new pair of tits.”

“What? What the hell is wrong with my tits, Roxie?”

“Nothing! Yet. But in a few years… Well, you know what I mean.”

“You’re not filling me with joy here.”

“I don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind for joy, so I’m trying to point out the positives. You’re a survivor, Tiana. Ever since your mom vanished you’ve looked after yourself. You handled that, and you can handle this.”

“I guess there’s that.” I sigh.

“Besides,” she says brightly. “He’ll probably get bored of you at some point, and then he might let you go so he can get a younger model.”

“Oh, geez; there’s something to look forward to. A few years of high-end sexual slavery before I get thrown out with the trash.”

“Tiana! Quit that, okay? Promise me you’ll be strong through this. That’s all I’m asking you to do.”

I rub my eyes, swing my legs from my bed, and stand, moving toward my closet. There isn’t much time left. I have to pack my things before the driver comes for me.

“Fine.” I exhale the word. “I’ll look for the positives.” As hard as it seems, Roxie probably has a point. What choice do I have? “I’d better go. I only have an hour to get my shit together.” I open the closet door and look through my things. I suddenly hate it all. Hate that my wardrobe is a reflection of the life that my father mapped out for me. A life that’s led me here instead of the future most women my age look forward to.

Marriage… love… kids… a career…

There’s that lump in my throat again.

“Tee? Are you there?”

“Yes.” I take in a deep breath, realizing I’d completely zoned out while Roxie was speaking to me.

“I want you to let me know when you get there. Even if you just shoot me a text to say everything’s cool. Coz you know I’m your bestie, right? And besties look out for each other. Plus, you can tell me what his place looks like. I bet it’s amazing.”

“Sure.” I fight back tears as it occurs to me that Roxie is probably the only person on Earth who cares whether I live or die right now. Aside from the man who sees me as a million-dollar fucktoy. “I’ll be in touch.”

“Cool. Keep your chin up. Things are going to work out.”

“Yeah. Chat soon.” I end the call before she can hear the catch in my voice. I don’t need her to launch into another pep talk. Instead, I turn my attention to dragging my luggage down from the top of the closet and begin carelessly tossing clothing into it. I’m too busy listening for the footsteps in the hallway that will mark the arrival of my escort out of here to care what I’m packing right now.

Besides, it’s all Dad’s bullshit idea of what my fashion sense should be. I ditch the prissy dresses in favor of a heap of plain T-shirts and jeans. A couple of pairs of sneakers will be enough to get me by.

Asshole!

I don’t know who I hate more right now – my father or the bastard who bought me.

Both of them, in equal measure!

Angrily zipping my suitcase shut, I take a look around my room. There’s nothing here I want to take with me. There is nothing that won’t remind me of the man who fathered me… and then auctioned me to the highest bidder. I give my cosmetics case a cursory glance before shoving it back on the dressing table.

Fuck him.

I’m not going to put in effort to make myself pretty for this jerk. Kiril fucking Vyronov can take it or leave it. In fact, maybe it will be better if I don’t brush my teeth or wash my hair. Let’s see how much he thinks I’m worth, then!

For several minutes, pure fury drives my erratic movements around the room. Minutes that drag, and yet go too fast. Minutes that are drawing me inescapably toward a point that I don’t want to think about. Every creak from outside has sweat beading on my brow, every voice in the distance has me cringing.

And then there’s a knock on the door, and my heart races.

This is it.

The start of a new chapter in the story of my life.

A story that’s turning into a nightmare.

And Kirill Vyronov is the monster at the center of it.


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