Mafia Boss’s Arranged Bride by Bella King
Chapter 33
Nikolai
It could be hours until Michail arrives, so I intend to enjoy the time that I have with Annika instead of dwelling in a swamp of stale cigarette smoke and boredom.
Michail thinks himself to be a king, riding into a strip club like he owns the world, bragging about things that only a rat would be proud of, and letting his defenses down because he thinks he’s already won.
But he won’t be winning for long. I’m ready and willing to knock that badge of honor right off his chest, and as the next rightful air to the Ivanov Family throne, I’ll be taking his place. Hell, maybe I’ll even marry Annika. I kind of like that idea.
“Are you sure you want me to do this?” Annika asks, sitting down on a faded velvet chair and lifting her dress. “I mean, what if someone comes in and sees us?”
“All they’re going to see is me enjoying my lunch,” I say, getting up and walking to her with an air of cockiness that only comes when you know you’re in complete control. What I say, she does. I know she won’t want to miss out on what my tongue can do.
Annika’s soft cheeks turn a satisfying shade of red as she slips her simple cotton panties down to her ankles, allowing me to pull them off and hold them in my hand. They’re warm from her skin, and I can feel the slight dampness from where her pussy rested against the fabric.
Delicious.
I move my pistol into my back pocket, not wanting it to interfere with the meal I’m prepared to enjoy. Annika is shy, as though she isn’t used to receiving pleasure without the expectation of it being returned. It dawns on me that this is probably the first time she’s been permitted to be selfish.
But I wouldn’t consider accepting oral from me to be selfish. It’s very much my pleasure as I press my lips on the ones at the center of her hips and move my tongue along it, tasting her arousal and growing stiff in my pants instantaneously.
I know what I’m doing, and my confidence is confirmed by her hand on the back of my head, pressing my face into her pussy as a soft moan escapes her pouty lips. The soft flesh of her mound feels like heaven. I could stay here forever, holding my breath until I passed out in her sweet innocence.
I flick my tongue over her, tasting her and reveling in the fact that she’s unable to express herself in English. She starts words – curses in Russian – but never finishes them, resorting to increasingly loud moans to tell me that she’s close to climax already.
I know.
Her juices flow into my mouth like a waterfall of ecstasy. I lap them up, moving my head back and forth as my tongue rapidly flicks against her clit. I suck it in, and I feel it swell as her brain and body explode into thoughtless bliss.
Her vocals are pure and honest as she cries out my name, mashing my head between her legs as she cups my ears with her soft, pale thighs. Her voice is muffled, but she’s loud enough to hear even with my ears blocked.
I could drown in her cum, and I’d be perfectly okay with that, but she lets go of my head after a few long seconds, her body collapsing in her velvet chair. She’s spent, and I come up licking my lips, showing her how good it tasted to have her in my mouth.
Her eyes are closed, a thin smile on her red lips as her chest rises and falls. The rhythm is quick but slows as she comes back down to earth and rejoins reality. I wish we could both remain in a stay of ecstasy like that, but it’s only possible through needles and risky drugs, something I’ve seen ruin enough lives to stay far away.
I remain kneeling on the floor as long as I can, watching Annika’s soft face as she begins to fall asleep. I could let her nap, but now isn’t the time to let our guard down. We need to ensure that once Michail comes in, we pop him good and run out the back before we get caught in a gunfight. There’s no telling how many bodyguards he’ll have waiting outside.
Once we’ve enacted our revenge on Michail for the atrocities he’s committed against both of our families, word will spread on the street that he’s gone, and the people underneath his will scatter like cockroaches. Only then will I step in and take the reins, rising up and unifying our family for real this time.
I haven’t pitched the idea to Annika just yet, but it’s in the back of my head, waiting for the perfect time to slip out. To be honest, I’m nervous about admitting my desire to marry her, unsure if she’ll think it’s too soon or want nothing to do with my family after this mess, but it’s worth a shot. I don’t have anything left to lose.
Annika’s eyes finally flutter open, and her lips curl in a bigger smile when she sees me still on my knees, her juices glistening on my stubbled chin. “That was… great,” she says, still at a loss for words.
I grin. “For me as well.” I stand up, dusting a questionable grey powder from the floor off my knees. “We probably still have some time to kill before Michail gets here, so I wanted to discuss what we’re going to do once we eliminate him.”
“You speak about him like he’s a pest. Aren’t you at least a little perturbed at the prospect of killing your brother?”
“No,” I reply dryly. “He gets what he deserves.”
“Maybe you’re also a psychopath,” she says with a nervous laugh.
I hold up a finger. “Don’t test me, darling. I’m nice to you, and that should be enough.”
“It’s more than I’ve ever gotten from anyone, to be honest. My parents cared for me, sure, but I never sensed that they wanted to be nice. My mother practically had to force a smile to her lips every time she looked at me like it pained her to have to manage me.”
“She didn’t have to manage you,” I say, feeling a surge of anger at how Annika was treated. “You’re perfectly capable of handling yourself. I’ve seen that, and you should know that you’re a strong woman after all of this. Not many people can come out on top when they’re faced with the amount of shit that was thrown your way.”
She smiles, coy in her attempts to stay humble. “I had your help.”
“Well, I’m about to help you again,” I say, trying to find the best way to ask her to marry me. A proposal in the back of a strip club seems so horribly tasteless that I cringe before I’m able to ask. I keep my mouth closed.
Maybe another time, but it has to happen if we’re going to find unity between our damaged families. Mine won’t accept her, even after I take the throne unless she’s my bride. That’s the only way to keep her safe.
“Is there something you wanted to say?” she asks, reading me like a book.
I stiffen, my stomach drops, and my mouth goes dry. I never thought it’d be so hard to ask a woman something so fiendishly simple. Marriages happen all the time, but this would mean more than unification, and she would know that. I have feelings for her, strong ones, and with those mixed in, it’s wickedly difficult to get the words out.
I clear my throat, pretending to have breathed in a fleck of glitter or a particularly strong whiff of that awful stale smoke smell. Annika studies me, leaning forward in her seat as I bunch the panties that I still have in my hand in front of my mouth and cough.
“There are probably some things we should take care of after Michail,” I say, easing into the topic instead of diving headfirst.
“Such as?”
I don’t know why I wasn’t expecting her to immediately ask what those things were. I don’t have a proper explanation thought up, and I want to rewind and take back the fact that I ever brought it up.
“Uh, like the fact that yours and my family are clearly not going to get along after this.”
“Nikolai, my family is dead,” she replies flatly.
“Not all of them,” I say, and her eyes light up. I’m quick to quell the fire, should she ultimately find herself disappointed that I’m not speaking about her parents. “You, Annika. You’re still alive, and my word isn’t going to be enough to convince them that you’re on our side.”
“Words used to mean something,” she says, her vision going distant.
“To me, they do, but to others, they might as well be gibberish. The thing is, you’re not going to be safe unless you’re legally bound to my family and share the Ivanov family name,” I explain, hoping that she’ll catch on and I don’t have to spell it out for her.
She squints her eyes, but perhaps it would be too bold of her to say it. I know she knows, but after getting her first wedding shot up, I’m not even sure if she’ll accept this.
She opens her mouth.
“Michail is here,” Yana announces, stepping into the room in nothing but a black silk robe. I wonder where her other clothes are for a moment, but then decide that I don’t wish to know. All that matters is that Michail has arrived.
