Taken By the Bratva Boss by Sarina Hart

Chapter Ten

Olivia

This damned boss. This stupid kid. This entire situation. Everything about it is wrong. Jacob shouldn’t be here. Leon shouldn’t be looking at me like he’s the fox and I’m the hen house.

I don’t have any choice in this. I have to beg. Have to look at Leon and beg because I need Jacob to back off before he gets killed. The Millers won’t come back from that.

“Can I have a minute with Jacob?” And again, because it seems to placate Leon for me to make him think he’s winning, I add, “Please.”

He’s so calm, so relaxed, so laid back, he could be sleeping with his eyes open if not for that hint of a smile, for the peek of tongue he flashes. For a second, my mind stops, freezeframes on the fact I know that tongue. Have tasted it. Enjoyed the feel of it.

But it’s just for a second.

I’m back to business. Jacob needs me to get him out of here. And I need him to go before he ruins the small rapport I’ve been able to build with Leon.

“Please, Leon.” I give him the Bambi eyes, the ones that got me into college and have helped me in every job interview I’ve ever been on. I save them, and to be honest, haven’t considered using them until now.

He’s smiling the beautiful smile I imagine brings women to their knees. It certainly makes mine weak. “All right.”

I wait until the door shuts behind him and his men. This room is probably wired, but I’m not about to say anything that will get the big guy with the knife to pay attention to me.

“Jacob, what are you doing here?”

“I had to know you’re okay.”

I work on the rope behind him, but these are sailor knots, nothing I’m going to get loose before next week. I move back to the front so I can look at his face. There isn’t any lasting damage, but he’s going to have a shiner and a fat lip for a week or so.

There was nothing to do but say what I needed to say. “Like I told you on the phone, I don’t think he did it.”

“We know he did it.” Jacob struggles against the ropes.

“Jake, he’s going to help me find who raped Denice.” At least he said he would, but there’s no indication he’s done a damned thing. Still, I believe him because I’ve spent a long time dragging his name, making sure a police spotlight remained shining on him. It can’t be easy for business.

“You’re going to stay here with him?” He uses his head to motion around the room.

“In the house, yes.” I soften my expression. “Listen, Jacob, I’m going to find the person who hurt Denice. And he’s going to help. And if we can’t bring that person to justice, Leon Krilov can certainly mete it out appropriately himself.” It’s a new thought, but a warm comfort rolls from my stomach to my toes. And because I want everyone to know I’m independent and free to go if I choose—a small lie—I add, “He can give us what we can’t get on our own. We can use him.”

His eyes flicker, and his head bobs so his chin rests on his chest. “Get me out of here.” When he looks at me again, his cheeks are ruddy and his eyes narrow. “You were her friend. Her best friend.”

“I still am.” No one is ever going to question my dedication to Denice, to our friendship.

His sigh is low and comes from somewhere so deep his entire body shifts, but when he looks at me again, his eyes are clear. The anger has faded. “I’m sorry, Liv. I know. I just hate this fucking guy.”

“He didn’t do it. I’m almost positive.” Almost.

The door swings open and a triangle of sunset light hits the room. It’s been a long day and I’m tired. Too tired for more games when Leon walks in and stands beside me.

“Time’s up.” He’s a man in control, and he knows it. His stance. His smirk. His everything says he knows.

“Please don’t kill Jacob.” More Bambi eyes. A swipe of my tongue across my mouth. A subtle nibble on my lower lip. These are tricks of the trade. Things actresses do in movies. I certainly wouldn’t have learned them anywhere else, and I’ve never pulled them out of my trick bag before.

“I don’t want to kill your little friend.” He smiles. Winks. The little is for Jacob’s benefit. Everything else is for mine. Adrian has worked the ropes holding Jacob free and he stands. Hatred vibrates off him.

“Thank you.”

“Go home, little boy. Run back to your mommy and tell her you get to live another day.” Leon steps forward, close enough to Jacob I couldn’t get between them without a shove to one or the other. “But know you only live because Leon Krilov allows it.”

A shiver chases up my spine.

“I’m taking Olivia with me.” His voice is strong, and his anger is almost like a presence, an extension of him as visible as an arm or leg.

I look at Leon. I’m not going anywhere, and I’ll tell him it’s my choice to stay if I have to, but right now, I want this man to fight to keep me here. Fight for me. And it’s ridiculous, but the situation calls for it. Maybe not the situation, but something inside me needs to hear him demand I stay because it’s what he needs.

“You’re taking no one with you,” says Leon as Adrian jerks Jacob’s arm on one side and the big buffoon in the suit grabs the other. “Drop the child at home and watch him. If he breathes wrong, kill him and his family.” He shoots Jacob a smile that is so predatory it belongs in National Geographic.

“Let me stay here then. I’m a hacker. I can get you information.”

He can. It’s not a lie. But he won’t. He’s the anti-villain guy in every story. Instead, he would probably put some sort of technological bomb in Leon’s system. And what Leon doesn’t think about is that if he lets Jacob into his computer system, he’s lost all his control over his own life and given it to Jacob. I almost open my mouth to warn him, but Leon speaks first.

“I need a hacker.” Dear God. Of course, he does. What crime boss doesn’t? “But to get trust, you must earn it.” He nods to Adrian, who turns Jacob toward the door.

Jake twists and struggles, looks back at Leon over his shoulder. “Please. I can help you.”

Leon nods. “We’ll see.” Before Jacob is out the door, Leon whistles. “Remember what I said about your family.” The words hang in the air. The threat has been made, and I have no doubt Leon will keep his word if Jacob acts foolish.

Foolish like trying to break into a known crime boss’s house.

Before I can thank him, he’s gone.

The whole interaction took less than a half hour. And it’s early. Too early for bed, but my emotions are everywhere at the moment. Fear and exhilaration. Anger and desire. Confusion and passion. Seeing Leon in full power mode was intoxicating.

And he can say he was rough on Jacob, but I saw the compassion, and it was hot, too.

Maybe I just need to fuck this guy out of my system because there can never be anything between us. I know too much of who he is and what he does. But he has a body built for worship. And I would bet he also has a cock he can make hard as steel by sheer command of his will.

And for the hundredth—maybe more—time today, I’m thinking about his cock. Imagining it—the look, the feel, the taste. I’m in way over my head.

I bypass the kitchen and head to my room. I don’t feel like charming Anna tonight or being charmed by her. And I don’t feel like staring at Leon, as pleasant as I find it.

Probably not best to spend the night in my room reading my copy of Fifty Shades, either, even if it’s the least of the evils.

But the red room of shame isn’t enough to hold my interest tonight. Instead, I pace the floor. Leon Krilov is down the hall in his office now because, while it is early in the adult world, Anna is in bed and he’s working. I can hear him on the phone.

Pacing is getting me nowhere closer to knowing what to do about Leon and the situation. But I need to thank him for not killing Jacob. And I know where to find him.

I don’t want to second-guess myself. Don’t want to give myself time to come up with even one reason why I shouldn’t go in there. I don’t need a contingency. He isn’t going to hurt me. I know it. He knows it. And bringing it up is almost as ridiculous as fearing it.

I tiptoe down the hall to his office. The door’s open. It’s a sign. I should go in.

He’s at the desk, standing, holding a paper in one hand, the landline to his ear with the other. But when I cross the threshold, he glances up, down, back up. Ends the call without speaking more and puts the paper on the desk.

Neither of us speak, but his gaze heats my body and mine burns a path up his. He’s worthy of every smokey gaze and steaming look he’s ever gotten. And I guarantee there’s been a lot.

Tall, dark, and fuck me is an understatement. He has a Brad Pitt smile and a Hemsworth body, honey-colored hair that fans at the base of his skull. He’s gorgeous.

I take five steps into the room and am standing at the corner of his desk. Close enough I can smell his cologne. I don’t stop my deep breath.

And his voice, “Can I help you, Miss Hudson?” sends tingles straight to my pussy. Fucking hell.

“I-I-I wanted to thank you.”

Thanks to the smile he’s pointing at me—a half smile really—I can’t focus enough to form the words to explain why I’ve come to thank him. All I can think of is pressing my body into his.

“I appreciate that.”

I appreciate his smile. The strength of his jaw. The curve of his ass. And I want to kiss them both.

I might’ve read too much Fifty Shades before I decided on this little endeavor. Or maybe Fifty is why I decided on this endeavor in the first place. Not that I care. I’m here. And I want to be here.

“Don’t you want to know why?” Where this voice came from, I don’t know. Why I react to his cocked eyebrow with a full body shiver is also a mystery. “I wanted to thank you for not hurting Jacob.”

“Your boyfriend.”

There’s some venom in those words, and the angst doesn’t disappear with my denial.

“No.”

He’s watching me now, and if his gaze had a tone, it would be rawr.

“Friend with benefits?” More venom.

“Just a friend.” And one minute, I’m at the edge of his desk, my finger tracing the corner, the next I’m backed against the wall with his body pressed into mine, all our fun parts aligned.

“Do you lie, Olivia Hudson?”

I sigh because his lips are on me now, against a pulse point in my throat, his tongue teasing. “If I say no, you’ll know I’m lying, and if I say yes, you won’t trust me.”

“I won’t trust you anyway.” His palm is against my jaw, holding my face while his thumb strokes my cheekbone on one side and his tongue toys with my throat on the other.

Dammit. He’s too skilled. Too alive. Too pressed into my business for me not to panic. For the panic not to make my entire body stiffen and my hands go from where they were on his hips to his chest. One small push and he steps back like it isn’t hard. Like his cock wasn’t just…isn’t… hard.

“I’m sorry.”

The bulge in his pants is… I’m rethinking the stop sign I just posted.

“Olivia.” He’s using his stern voice. All business. The most arousing sound I’ve ever heard in my life. If he could bottle it, men around the world would spend their fortunes for its effects.

I look up at him, and I’m panting already. Not fear. Not because I’ve run ten miles even though my heart is pounding like I did.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t.” As a matter of fact, for a guy who was supposed to be a rapist, he certainly knows how to respect boundaries. He’s on the opposite side of the desk now. So far away he wouldn’t hear a whisper.

“Good.” And he moves like a panther—graceful, with purpose—to a table in the room where he straightens a photo of Anna, to a chair where he lets his fingers drag over the arm before he turns to face me. “From now on, if you plan to do anything”—a pause so he can burn me with his gaze— “sexual, it will be with me.”

I’ve never been more aroused, more turned on, hornier in my life. A pool of wetness between my thighs assures me I’ve never wanted anything with more urgency. “Anything?” I unbutton my shirt with the tips of my fingers… slowly, sensually, dispense with my bra… quickly.

He slides into the chair, and I am brazen and bold. I let my tongue slide across my upper lip while my fingers tease and tweak my nipples. The touch tickles, and I want his hands on me, but the desire to tease him wins over. I let my hand slide down my belly to the waistband of my jeans and flick the button open, lower the zipper and slip my hand down.

My head falls back with the first touch. My back arches gently, as I bite my lower lip.

He stands. Bends. Takes my nipple into his mouth and swirls his tongue around the pebbled peak. He uses his teeth, biting on it gently, sucks as he pulls my hand out of my panties. I moan with the loss.

But then he sweeps me off the floor and carries me to my room. Sets me in the middle of the mattress, then moves to the end of the bed and somehow my pants fall off. Or he pulls them off. I’m too wound up to know the difference. I only know he’s taking over every one of my senses. I only see him. His cologne overpowers me. I only feel his touch. I would die to hear his voice, to hear his groans in my ear, knowing it is me who’s causing his pleasure.

His lips move from my ankle to my calf, the back of my knee, the inside of my thigh. They’re soft and moist, leaving a trail of wetness on my skin. And then it’s ecstasy. It’s so fucking amazing. I can only hang on for the ride, hold fistfuls of the blanket, arch my back, cry out, pray to God it never ends.

His tongue is masterful, as he slides into me slowly, tasting me as he goes. I rock against his face, my mind begging him not to stop. I grab a handful of his hair. My lips part, swollen with need. My breasts ache for his fingers. I want more. So much more, and I’m going to have it.

He rams his tongue into me forcefully, but it slides in so effortlessly, I moan loudly. He licks my folds, driving me crazy, leaving me mindless when he pulls away only to dive in deep once more. I’m in a frenzy and we’ve barely even started.

He lifts his gaze to meet mine. “Look at me,” he demands, and the only thing I can do is comply. “I can make you fly, baby.”

My hot wetness is all his as he sucks on my swollen clit. When he adds two fingers, gliding into me, I close my eyes, feeling my body shudder with delight. He keeps sucking, playing with my clit as his fingers fuck me in rhythm. I buck at him, pulling him even closer, not wanting to be away from him even for one precious moment. His fingers curl at the exact holy-fucking-shit angle. His tongue laps my clit, his fingers pump in and out. It’s all too much and I know I won’t be able to hold out much longer.

Surprisingly, he slows down the pace. Ripples of need wash over me, and I yank at his hair, shoving his face closer to my pussy, wanting it more. Harder. Faster. Until the very end of me coming undone for this man.

The build is exquisite, and the explosion rocks my entire body, and he licks and sucks until I can’t do more than pant and beg for more. He laps up my juices hungrily, inhaling my scent, savoring the moment. He just rocked my world, but I want more. So much more.  I want his cock inside of me, filling me to the brim. I want to feel the weight of his body on mine, our juices intertwining, becoming one.

For a second, he moves away, sheds his clothes and as much as I want to fuck him, I want to look at him more. He is breathtaking. I want to let my fingers do some walking. Over all the muscle and sinew. He is tight as a rock.

But he is too quick. His body moves next to mine. He’s there beside me. His mouth on mine, his hands working me while I find his cock. Dear God. Expectation did not do justice to reality. His cock is glorious. Mountainous. I wonder if it will even fit. I know I’ll have fun trying it.

“Do you want this, Olivia?”

I don’t know how to say Fuck me, please, you Russian god in Russian, so I just nod.

“Do you want this, Leon?”

He trails a fingertip from my knee to circle my belly button. “Since the first moment I saw you.”

It’s a line. I know it. Don’t care. I want it. He wants it. He has a condom. I’m in.

For a second, he hovers over me, his cock poised at the entrance to my pussy, and I want to lift my hips, but I don’t. I tremble with anticipation, wet and swollen with need. I pull him down for a kiss I hope will entice him to push inside of me. To fill me. To bang my head into the headboard until I’m cross-eyed and goofy. He can do whatever he wants to me, as long as he leaves me begging for more.

I grab his ass and push because I’m impatient, and he smiles against my mouth. “Greedy.”

“Needy.” I’m not even embarrassed at how true that is.

I’m on the edge already, ready to blow, and when he thrusts the first time, I gasp, curl my fingers into his shoulders. And then it’s all hanging on and holding tight. I meet every thrust, curl my legs around his hips and use his body for my leverage. I feel his cock and balls tighten with every thrust. He adds his fingers swirling over my clit, and the sensation is pure bliss. I keep walking that fine line and I know each next thrust could possibly push me over the edge. He feasts upon me, and I drink him in, as we both moan in satisfaction.

My lips part, as I try to inhale, but the wetness of his mouth covers me, washes me over and I take him. He sinks his tongue into me, slamming hard against me, taking everything I have to give him. His frantic need matches my own. The friction is blissful, as he stretches me with each push.

My muscles tense, and my body isn’t my own. It’s shattered, exploding into a thousand splinters. I’m delirious at the pleasure his engorged cock has given me, as he keeps pumping into me, ferocious for his own release. Whatever this is between us, it’s not fading. It’s actually becoming even stronger, more overpowering.

As I tighten around him, clamp down with every part of my body, his body stiffens, and his head throws back on a grunt.

When the world spins slower and I can see straight again, I breathe him in one last time. There’s no way he’s staying in this room when he has his own bed and his own blankets to go back to. A bed uncrowded by a one-night stand.

But he settles next to me, one arm under my head, the other dangling over my hip.

I slept with the guy who might’ve… possibly… slim chance… raped my best friend. So, sleep shouldn’t come easily. I should hate myself. I should hate him. And I shouldn’t be able to close my eyes and sleep.

But I do.