Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) (19 page)

Kathleen

I held my son in my arms and breastfed him while my husband sat and watched attentively. I rubbed my hand over his strawberry blond hair, and he smiled at me. My son had smiled from the moment they placed him in my arms on the day he made his debut into this world. The doctor and nurses all said they had never seen a child that smiled as quickly and readily as my boy did. A photo was taken and captured the moment perfectly. It had literally gone viral amongst the Bratva.

My son commanded attention from the moment he entered the world. I know I don’t have the typical family, and the circumstances surrounding my wedding may not have been normal, but this is my life, this is my family, and Russia is now my home.

The upcoming years would be full of memories I would journal for posterity. I wanted future generations to know of our legacy in the world of Bratva—Glazov’s Legacy.

The End…

Coming late 2015

I can see it in her eyes. Barely concealed fear washed over her features when she realized her son was born to carry on my legacy. She just didn’t understand yet, but she would. In my world, we are born Bratva, and we die Bratva.

The legacy continues...

We are born Bratva—We die Bratva!
Novak:

You've met my cousin, Glazov. Now, please, allow me to introduce myself.
My birth name was Mathias Novak. I changed it at a young age shortly after I left New York and relocated to California.
You see, ‘Carl Sims’ sounded much more Americanized, and it kept me from being stereotyped as a mobster or a thug based solely on my name.
I like to think of myself as a businessman with an edge, and there’s such a stigma attached to being a mobster that I didn’t want to be associated with the word.
Being of European descent, I am very particular.
I am a polished man. I am very precise and a perfectionist about anything and everything I do.
Not just any woman has the capability of snagging my attention.
It takes a certain something, if you will, and women like Katrina are few and far between.
I have no intention of letting Katrina get away from me now that I’ve found her.
There is also the issue of the diary… Yes, I will be keeping
Katrina on a very short leash.
To say that I am a dangerous man would be a gross understatement. Let's just say that Katrina crossed the wrong man when she stole my journal, and if forced marriage is the only way to keep her from testifying against me, then so be it.

Katrina:

I was doing great and riding high on the success of my bestseller. That is, of course, until the mobster, whose diary I stole and used as inspiration to write my book, demanded his journal back.
Giving the diary back would be tantamount to admitting I was guilty of the theft.
It would mean confessing my novel, which was now a bestseller and a worldwide phenomenon, was nothing more than a hoax.
This created a grave problem for me. It meant losing a lot of
money and, worse than that, ruining my reputation as a writer. I had no choice. I would have to try and charm this
snake somehow, some way. I could not let him ruin all that I had worked so hard to achieve.
But forced marriage? He couldn't be serious, could he?

Available on Amazon:
http://www.amazon.com/Suzanne-Steele/e/B00C9L6YRQ

An Exce
rpt

I circled my prey of choice, which was always, undoubtedly, Amanda.

Although she was nude and strapped spread eagle against the wall, I still donned my suit from the day.

I wore a black suit with a crisp white button-up shirt, complete with cufflinks and a contemporary black and white block tie. Black Italian leather shoes completed my commanding look.

My face was clean-shaven, my black hair was meticulously styled, and my coal black eyes held Amanda captive; they always did.

“You see, Amanda, you seem to have mistaken me for a man in the vanilla world. I am not your boyfriend, and what we have is not just a simple affair.”

I eyed Amanda coldly as I stood in front of her. Her body was well toned now due to her weight training, and I didn’t even try to conceal the lascivious thoughts she provoked as I leered at her.

I grabbed a handful of her hair by the roots, unexpectedly catching her off guard, before I pulled her in close to my face and ran my thumb along her jawline.

“What I am, Amanda, is your Dominant. Though I am intrigued with your free spirit at times, you must always remember one thing; you are my submissive. Mine. Period. Point blank. Need I remind you, Amanda, that you do not have a choice? You are being blackmailed, sweetie. You work for me. I own you, and that means you are at my beck and call.”

“Stop it, James,” Amanda hissed.

I ran my tongue over her lips before covering her mouth with my own and applying suction. I purposely slobbered all over her mouth and chin.

“Your pristine little make-up job is mine to destroy at will. Your perfect TV hair is mine to give that best ‘just fucked’ look to.”

I leaned in close and growled into her ear as I plunged my finger deep into her pussy. “And this soaking wet pussy of yours is mine to toy with however and whenever I choose. Amanda is a sinner, and she likes what I do to her. Amanda has a dark side that only her Dom knows about.”

“Stop it, James,” she gasped, barely able to catch her breath.

“Fuck no, I’m not stopping. I’m just getting started, little girl. See, Amanda, your pussy agrees with me. I own you!”

I growled into her ear again as I continued my onslaught on her body. “I don’t give a fuck about you not wanting to marry me, Amanda!”

Amanda groaned and her legs seemingly turned into jelly. The restraints were the only things holding her up now.

I leaned down to take one of her tits into my mouth, all the while eyeing her as I controlled her body with just my finger.

“Oh yes, Amanda, I do like you, little girl. Watching you go from a defiant little brat to my whining, mewling, begging, and tormented little sub just does it for me. Every. Single. Time.”

I undid my pants and let them fall to my ankles before I slid my cock back and forth along Amanda’s soaking wet pussy.

“Is that what you want, Amanda?”

“Yes, please. Please. Please, James!”

I buried my face in her hair. “Beg, Amanda. Oh yeah, that’s it, my little liar. Beg me to fuck you,” I taunted.

“You would promise me the moon and stars while I played your body like a well-tuned instrument. Yet, once you are released from my restraints, I have to restrain and tame you all over again. You see, Amanda, it is just your nature. It takes a certain kind of Dom to handle a bratty sub like you. That alpha personality of yours has to be reined in, and if blackmailing your little ass is how I have to do it, then so be it. When it comes to you, Amanda, defeat is not an option for me. No, I will do whatever it takes for you to be mine.”

“Oh fuck,” she groaned. She leaned back against the wall as I stepped fully out of my pants. I released her legs from the restraints and then wrapped them around my waist.

“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you, Amanda.”

“James, please stop toying with me. You know what I want.”

“No, Amanda, that’s just not enough.”

“James, I need your cock. I crave it,” she whined.

I rammed my full length into her and watched every detail of her face. “Now that is what I wanted to see! Amanda has a nasty little addiction and an overwhelming craving for her Dom’s cock. I am in your fucking head, girl, and you can never escape me!”

At times like these, she did not want to escape me.

For the allotted time she was mine, she was completely uninhibited and totally open in offering herself to me.

These were the only times she completely let down her defenses, and I made it last as long as I could.

Women like Amanda were guarded and not easily conquered emotionally. Amanda wore a type of chastity belt over her heart, and for these moments, only I had the key.

I relished the power I held over her. Knowing that no other man could reach into Amanda’s soul like I did made me drunk with pleasure.

“That’s it, girl. Beg your Dom to take what’s his. You’re so wet.” I eyed the liquid dripping down her thighs as I slowly pumped my cock in and out of her.

My cock grew harder knowing that no one else affected my Amanda to the extent I did.

She could fight it all she wanted, but I held the key to her soul.

We could remain lost in each other for hours, losing all concept of time. Whenever we were in each other’s presence, there was only Amanda, me, and the passion that burns between us…