Seduction: A Dark Bratva Fake Marriage Romance (Wicked Vows)

It was a long but productive day for Vera. She takes a quick rest while I check in at home.

I’m surprised to find one from the Ivanov captain, Shevchenko.

Interesting.

Fuck.

If I say yes, we run the risk of someone discovering that we are currently sharing a bed and living quarters. But if I say no, I limit the amount of protection I can give her. Aleks has drones in place periodically but not much else.

I think about it before I reply and finally come up with what I hope is a good compromise.

“Are you going to tell me what led to today?” Vera stands with her hands on her hips.

“You mean why I felt the need to defend you? That’s easy enough, though I’d have thought it obvious.”

I knew Vera deserved that leadership position. I further knew that the pussy American was doing everything in his power to keep her from succeeding.

Vera might not be too fond of my methods, but I make no apologies.

When she frowns at me, I can’t help but notice the fullness of her lips. The way they slant down in a way that’s at once pouty while almost being a little girlish.

Now that we’re back in the room after a dinner the American had the decency to skip, I want to kiss her so badly I can taste it. There’s something about Vera Ivanova that calls to my primal nature.

What does a woman like her want?

I turn my back and unbutton my shirt without looking at her.

I notice when she doesn’t move, as if she’s frozen in place.

Whether or not we continue to be chaste and play it safe, we can still get fucked over if anyone finds out we’re sharing a room and that damn one bed.

Only one of those options sounds remotely appealing to me.

Only one of those options gets me closer to Vera and closer to her father.

I shrug out of the dress shirt, fold it, and deliberately put it on top of the dresser by the door. My back still to her, I ball up my undershirt in my fist and slide it into a hamper.

Next, I reach for my belt buckle. I turn slightly to the side so she doesn’t see me looking at her as I very deliberately unfasten it. Her breath catches, and she subtly licks her lips.

Ah. That’s what I thought.

Vera has completely submerged herself in the world of erotic romance. She knows exactly what I could do with this belt, and I intend on doing every damn one of them.

I slowly pull it halfway out, then tug the rest out with a little swish.

Vera chokes.

When I look up to her, her gaze challenges mine.

“You’ve had a long day. You’re tired, aren’t you?”

Very sighs. “So tired.”

“Unfortunately, we have to address something.”

She eyes me curiously. “What?”

“I told you there would be consequences earlier, didn’t I?” My voice is husky as my need for her grows. My cock aches, and my balls are heavy.

“Wait, what?” Her beautiful eyes widen as she stares at me. “What are you talking about?”

Ha. As if a brilliant woman like her forgot. Nice try.

She’s so fucking beautiful and wholesome. Those wide green eyes beckon me to come and rest, like a grassy field under the heat of a summer day. I haven’t rested in fucking decades.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

“Is that how you’re going to play this, Markov?”

Ah, the age-old art of deflecting.

“You were the one who decided I was your husband, and you were the one who thought it wise to be disrespectful to your husband.” I wrap the belt around my fist and make a little loop. Snap it.

There’s no denying it now. I catch the widening of her pupils, the breathless sound of her breath. The way she swallows hard. Vera Ivanova is turned on. I’m going to give her the slightest little taste of what she’s read and no doubt fantasized about.

I shake my head. “I’ve told you what I expect, Vera.”

She opens her mouth as if to say something, but nothing comes out.

“You’ll turn around and face that bed. Bend over onto your arms.” Doing so will expose her to me, and I’m banking on the fact that the thought likely terrifies and arouses her.

“Markov, what are you doing?” Her voice is all wobbly.

“Teaching my wife to obey her husband.”

She stares at me, her eyes wide. “And if I don’t. . . do that?” she whispers.

“Then I will forcibly put you over my lap, pin you down, and you will not like the kind of spanking I will deliver. Now, which will it be?”

She’s bright pink when she asks in a choked voice, “What if someone hears us?”

“Then they’ll learn what happens to disobedient wives, won’t they?”

She crosses her arms and shakes her head, a last-ditch effort. “I do not think this is part of our arrangement.”

“You’re a smart girl, Vera. Brilliant, really. Didn’t you think about what would happen if you disobeyed your husband?”

“You’re not—” She clamps her mouth shut. She can’t say it out loud; if anybody hears her tonight, they’ll know she’s lying. “This is the modern day.”

“You have three more seconds before I come and fetch you.” I frown at her. “One.”

Her gaze flickers.

“Two.” I’m prepared to go get her and do exactly what I promised.

“Fine,” she says, jutting her chin out as if she’s just made a decision. “I’ll give you this, but on my terms.”

With one quick motion, she removes her top, revealing nothing but a tiny, barely-there cami. She steps out of her sweats, wearing adorable little white, almost transparent undies. Her small breasts push against the cami, and the chaste undies barely cover her ass.

Damn.

And with that, she flounces over to the bed and bends over. Now, I’m hard as a rock.

She gives me a mocking look over her shoulder. “Does this please you, husband?”

My steps are slow and deliberate as I approach her.

When I reach her, I place my hand on her lower back and can feel her tension. I bend down to her ear and whisper, “Very much. Yes, this pleases me, wife, even if you did so from a place of defiance. I’m only going to give you the smallest chastisement, wife. After all, we’re new to this. But I want you to remember what it feels like to have my belt across your ass. I want you to remember what it feels like to be humiliated and punished by your husband. Do you understand me? I want you to remember this the next time you think of disobeying me.”

“Oh my God,” she chokes out in a rush of words. “Of—of course, husband,” she says mockingly. “I hear you.”

I slap her panty-clad backside with my hand, and she squeals. A red mark instantly blooms across her butt. Christ, it’s beautiful. I lift my belt this time and slap her ass again, not too hard but not lightly. She shoots up onto her toes, clenching the duvet in her fists. Her entire face is red, the heat creeping down her neck, yet she doesn’t move. I take a moment to caress her heated ass with my palm. My dick twitches. Fuck.

“Good girl. You took that so well, wife. I’m so proud of you. Look what a strong, good woman you are.” I bend down and place the gentlest of kisses on one cheek, then the other, before I stand. “One more, and then you get to go to bed with a sore ass. A reminder of what I expect from you in the morning.”

I give her another light lick of my belt, just enough to make my point, and drop the belt. I’d bet good money she could take way, way more than what I gave her, likely even craves it, but I want to leave her wanting.

I stare at her and can’t help but imagine what it would be like to take her. To be inside her. To feel her hot, tight body around me.

I want to see her back arch when she comes. . .

I rub her sore ass with my palm.

“Good girl. You took that so well. Have you learned your lesson, Vera?”

She nods her head. “I have.”

Fuck. My dick presses against my pants so tightly it’s painful.

“Good girl. Now tell me. How do you feel after your spanking?”

She pauses, inhaling sharply, her breath ragged. Hiding her face in the covers, she doesn’t look at me but mumbles her words through the fabric. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jesus.

Even though I expected this, hearing her actually admit it confirms everything I suspected. It’s killing me not to pin her hands to this headboard and show her exactly how a dominant male claims a woman.

Gently, I gather her hair and expose the curve of her neck. I brush it over to one shoulder and press a kiss against her bare skin, whispering into her ear. “If I were to touch you right now, would I find you wet, Vera?” My need to possess her intensifies with every breath she takes.

“Is there a submissive lurking within you, Vera? Do you ever dream of being one of the heroines from those novels you devour? To be completely overtaken?” I draw out each word, my voice a husky whisper. “Imagine surrendering control to a dominant. It’s a choice, Vera. Embrace it. Many crave this surrender.”

“I’m. . . yes, I’m curious.”

Christ.

“Spread your legs,” I rasp out.

Without a word, she complies, squeezing her eyes shut, perhaps to deny the reality of her own desires. Yet, I’ve learned enough about her to know that Vera’s solitude doesn’t mask her fiery spirit. A woman of her passion deserves a counterpart who worships her ferocity.

Leaning over, I prop myself on one arm and breathe in her scent—spring flowers blended with the crispness of autumn rain. Her pulse throbs under my lips; her sharp gasp fills the silence.

“Tell me exactly how you feel right now.”

“So, so turned on, Markov. Damn you,” she breathes out in a choked whisper.

I cup her ass, and she gasps. “I just disciplined you for such language, Vera. Was my message not clear?”

She whimpers softly. “You made your point.” Her voice is laced with feigned protest and genuine desire.

“Get on your back,” I command. The raw urgency to taste her is overwhelming, yet I restrain myself, remembering her innocence. My hands, however, can’t resist exploring the fullness of her breasts.

“Touch yourself,” I murmur. “Let me see.”

Clumsily, she pulls her panties to the side and reaches down to her slick folds just as I release one of her breasts from her bra and lick the peaked nub. Her body jerks, a cry escaping her lips.

Mine.

“You’re my wife, Vera,” I whisper, caught up in the moment’s authenticity. For a second, I forget our pretense, lost in the primal need to claim her.

I move her hand aside, replacing it with mine, feeling her warmth and arousal. Her voice breaks as my finger explores her.

“Markov,” she pleads, lost for words as pleasure overwhelms her.

“Mine,” I growl, my voice rough. “You chose this path. You were the one who said we were married. You were the one who confessed her longing to be commanded. Don’t pretend you don’t crave this now.”

Her hips rise in response, a silent, primal affirmation of her desires. I tease her relentlessly, drawing her close to the brink then halting. I savor the catch of her breath. Pausing, I hold my breath and hers in the balance.

“Umolai menya. Beg me.”

Her voice breaks in a desperate plea. “Oh. . . God. Please, don’t stop, Markov. Please.”

“Beg me harder. I want to know you mean it. Convince me.”

“Please, keep going. I’ll—I’ll do anything. I did what you said. You told me you were my husband, isn’t this what a husband does? Isn’t this what I need? Oh, God! Please!”

I indulge her, a small stroke sending her arching off the bed. Her body’s silent plea is deafening.

“Will you behave now?”

“Yes, yes, yes! Please!”

“Good girl,” I praise, a lazy stroke rewarding her compliance. “That’s what I want to see. You please me so much. Such a good, sweet girl you are.” I kiss her cheek and stroke her again. “Come on my fingers, Vera. I want to watch you.”

I take her mouth with mine as she detonates beneath me. I give one more stroke, easing her through the spasms of pleasure. I continue until her climax washes over her, uncontrolled and raw. She clings to the ecstasy, her cries muffled by my kiss, her pleasure mingling with my being.

She collapses, spent. My fingers linger, savoring the last touch.

Gently, I lay her against the pillows, her eyes hazy, overwhelmed by what she’s experienced.

“That was beautiful,” I confess softly. “So honest. So free.” I brush a kiss on her forehead.

Silence stretches between us.

“Tell me how you’re feeling now, Vera?”

She looks at me, her eyes earnest when she murmurs, “Scared, Markov.”

I cradle her, stroking her disheveled hair, urging her to share her heart. “Talk to me, Vera.”

She pauses before she speaks, drawing in a ragged breath. She buries her face in the covers and won’t look at me, but she manages to say, “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life.”

Jesus.

I turn her around to face me and sit on the edge of the bed with her on my lap. I’ve crossed so far over the line of propriety, there’s no turning back now.

My hard-on presses against her heated ass. I stifle a groan before I continue. “What are you afraid of?”

“I didn’t know what that would feel like,” she whispers. “I’m afraid that if we keep. . . If I. . .”

She tries to look away, but I bring her chin back. Her eyes are back on mine.

“Tell me.”

It seems that small spanking I gave her removed her ability to hide from me because she opens her mouth and the truth spills out.

“If my father finds out, he’ll kill you.”