Conquered Bride (Belaya Bratva 1) - Page 10

CHAPTER 5

Gavril


I’d never been more entertained in my life.


Sveta launched herself at me, the knife aimed for my chest, and for a moment, I thought about letting her stab me just to see if it would hurt.


The thought of Sveta stabbing me did hold a certain appeal, and left me rock hard with need.


It wasn’t the fact that she was going to do me any bodily harm. It was the fact that she was willing to do it. A nice reminder that she had Stanislav’s blood running through her veins.


Just as she was poised to thrust the knife into my chest, I grabbed her wrist and effortlessly turned her arm sideways. She cried out—partly from surprise and partly from pain. One more twist and I could break her arm in two, but that wasn’t my intention.


I wanted to see if she was really able to go through with it, and while others would have been worried about their lives, I wasn’t.


Fuck, no. I was turned on by the threat to my life by her.


There was, however, an undercurrent of worry that I couldn’t shake. I had been in this position before, and it had cost me a hell of a lot in the end. I had let down my guard, allowed someone in, and they had tried to destroy me. I wasn’t going to allow that again.


No one would get that close, not even my wife.


If Sveta wasn’t going to be my wife, if I didn’t already have plans for her, then I would have snapped her neck and walked away without another thought as to what I had done.


Instead, I let her arm go, my heart pounding in my chest with both anger and the need to break something myself. Poor Anatoly would take the brunt of what had happened here this morning when we sparred later.


“Commendable,” I said as I took the knife from her hand and threw it into the wall. The handle reverberated as it buried itself against the plaster. “But allow me to teach you a lesson: if you intend to kill, Sveta, you do not hesitate.”


Her chest rose and fell with anger, and I saw regret in her eyes that she hadn’t, in fact, killed me.


Good. I wanted her pissed off, because she wasn’t going to like what I was about to do next. I had wasted enough time here. There was a shitload of work left to do, and though I didn’t want a biddable wife, I sure as hell wanted one right now.


“Quit being a brat and take your fucking clothes off,” I finished, stepping back to give her room. Vera had worked her ass off all morning to get the dresses together so quickly, and Sveta was fucking up my plans.


There was a moment of hesitation, and I silently hoped that she would continue defying me. I wanted a reason to punish her. I wanted to peel that romper off her body. I wanted to see her try to cover herself as I forced her hands away.


To my surprise and disappointment, Sveta reached for the zipper on the side of her romper and slowly pulled it down over her breasts. Lust hit me hard and fast as her rosy nipples puckered in the morning air, goose bumps breaking out over her body.


She didn’t look at all embarrassed by doing so, almost defiant that I was making her do so, and another small measure of concern flooded through me.


What sort of life had Sveta had? I figured she was untouched, but the way she was peeling her clothing off her skin, I wasn’t so sure. She was supposed to be a virgin, but the way she kept her eyes on me as her romper fell to her feet told me otherwise.


Then there was the fact that her body already had the curves of a woman, and my thoughts went back to what Anatoly said. This was not the body of a girl who had been kept in obscurity overseas.


This was a woman who could tempt even the strongest of men with a practiced wink and the swish of her hips. I allowed my eyes to travel down from her breasts to her flat stomach and the vee in the middle of her thighs, barely covered with a scrap of lace the color of the ocean. For a moment I thought about having her remove that as well, but there was something alluring at her keeping it on, the only part of her I wasn’t seeing today.


Tomorrow, however, would be a different story.


Tomorrow she would be my wife, and nothing would stop me from claiming her body as my own.


From ripping those panties off her and tasting what belonged to me.


Sveta placed her hands on her hips, not bothering to cover her form, and my cock ached to be buried in her warmth. My mouth felt dry, and I licked my lips. Images of me pressing her against the wall filled my head. I could practically hear her gasping under me.


I hadn’t wanted someone this hard in a long, long while.


Fuck, I needed to end this. “Go pick a dress and try it on,” I growled as Vera stepped forward. “Now.”


Sveta walked past me to one of the racks that Vera had set up this morning and flipped through the expensive dresses I had commissioned for her. There were a variety of choices, from the raciest cut to a demurer look that would still look sinful on her body. Hell, I didn’t care if she picked a handful of them to wear for the wedding and the party afterward as long as at the end of the night, it was me peeling it off her.


Vera, on the other hand, had questioned my every motive. She told me that a woman, especially one like Sveta, didn’t deserve to have the wedding I was planning. She didn’t like that I was flaunting her around, taking her innocence for my own gain. Like Anatoly, Vera was the only other one in my life that I listened to, respected even. She had been with me for a long time, and nothing I was doing was likely surprising her.


Though I imagined she was damning my soul to hell with each move I made.


Sveta pulled out a gown with a deep V that would stop right above the dimples at her back. “What about this one, master?” she asked sweetly, holding it up.


I arched a brow, the word master seemingly off coming out of her perfect pink lips. While I wanted certain people in my life to call me that, I didn’t want my wife to do so.


“Call me Gavril or Kirilenko,” I told her. “And that dress is a good pick.” It would make every person at the wedding lust over her, but they would be powerless to do anything about it. Exactly like I wanted.


She shrugged and held the dress out to look at, turning it to where the light caught the shiny material. “I don’t like it,” she said right before she ripped the neckline with her bare hand and threw the dress on the floor a moment later.


Apparently, my fiancée wasn’t done being a brat after all. “Don’t.”


Sveta ignored me and selected another dress. “I don’t like this one either,” she said before tearing it as well.


“Sveta, stop,” I growled as she threw it on the floor.


Sveta ignored me and grabbed another dress. “Or maybe this one?” she asked. “I don’t like it either!”


Rip. Rip. Rip. One dress after another fell to the ground. Each more expensive than the last.


I walked over there before she had a chance to rip the final dress and pinned her against the wall so hard that the pictures rattled around us.


“You will stop,” I seethed, my eyes boring into hers. “And you will apologize to Vera and her team for ruining their work.” While I wasn’t one to have her antics piss me off so badly, she was ruining perfectly good work.


Absolutely unacceptable.


“I will not apologize,” Sveta answered defiantly, lifting her chin. “And I will not marry you.”


I reached up and pulled the knife out of the wall, watching as she quit breathing as I pressed the cold blade against her throat, close enough that if she fell forward, it would slice her delicate skin.


“You may act the brat with me,” I told her softly, my voice barely a whisper. “But I will not allow you to disrespect my staff.”


This wasn’t just a play for me to show my dominance. I despised when people disrespected those who were loyal to me. Loyalty and respect went hand in hand, and if she were a man, I would have gutted her for her insolence.


Sveta’s eyes dilated, her breathing coming out in shallow pants as I moved the knife down over her breast, careful not to prick her flesh yet. If she made one move, a dot of blood would appear.


I wasn’t even sure if she was breathing at this moment, likely wondering what my plan was. Her breasts were full, more than a handful that would spill over in my hand, but her nipples were high and proud and I moved the tip of the knife to the rosy bumps, down her flat belly, and pressed it at the edge of her clit.


“You will apologize,” I told her again, letting my voice drop to a low octave that had grown men pissing on themselves. “Now.”


I could see how she wanted to defy me, but I was the one holding a knife to a very vulnerable part of her body right now, and she didn’t know what I would do.


Hell, I didn’t know what I would do if she acted out again. I couldn’t ruin her or my plans, but I could make her pay for being a fucking brat. It would be what was expected, and if she were acting out like this, who knew what she would do before I could put that ring on her finger.


She had no other option. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I apologize.”


Her words sounded hollow to my ears.


“On your knees,” I said roughly, pulling the knife away from her body.


Sveta’s eyes flashed, but she lowered herself to her knees, her head bowed. For a moment I watched her in the position of submissiveness, though I knew she wasn’t anywhere close to be submissive.


For some reason that caused my cock to press painfully against my trousers. What would it take to make her submit to me? Would there always be this war between us, or would the day come that Sveta understood where she belonged?


I didn’t think I would care to see that moment between us. Fighting with her, having her defy me, brought a certain level of interest to this relationship, and maybe I had been wrong all along to think I wanted her meek.


“Apologize.”


Sveta looked up, defiance still burning in her big eyes. “I’m sorry.”


“I don’t accept your apology,” I finally said. “Iwant a proper apology.”


Her lips parted as I reached for the button on my trousers. Then realization dawned in her eyes. She needed to learn a fucking lesson, and this would be one she wouldn’t forget anytime soon.


As soon as I lowered my zipper, my cock sprang out, angrily seeking the relief I had needed from the moment she had peeled her clothing from her body. With a silent groan, I took it hot and heavy in my hand and stroked it from head to tip. I was acutely aware of Vera silently watching every movement, wondering if she was cursing me in her head for making her watch this.


“Open your mouth,” I murmured as Sveta followed my every move with her eyes. I could make her beg for my cock if I wanted to, but I would save that for later, when we didn’t have an audience. “Or you will remain on your knees until you do.”


To my surprise, she didn’t fall into hysterics like I thought she would, another notch of surprise on the long list she was currently generating for me.


Obediently, her lips parted. I curled my finger under her chin and rested the tip of my cock against her soft, silky lips. A savage surge of pleasure shot through me as she let out a shuddering breath against my throbbing head.


“Don’t you dare look away,” I whispered as I pulled her head closer and pushed my way into her warm, inviting mouth.

Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance
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