Obsessive Boss (Bratva Brothers 4)

THREE

Savannah

I've barely been in the apartment a week, setting up for the undercover operation. Hopefully, the place looks lived in, and Anton doesn't suspect anything. The landlord provided us with a fresh apartment with new paint and carpet. The scent still tickles my nose when I waltz through the front door.

But Anton hasn't mentioned it; maybe he isn't as sensitive to the chemical smells.

I grab the shot glass and lift it. "To new opportunities," I say.

Anton lifts his glass and clinks mine with a nod before we both swallow back the shot.

Unlike when Madisyn went undercover with the bratva, there are no cameras or video surveillance inside my apartment. No audio bugs, as far as I'm aware. The place is immaculate, and I insisted it had to be that way.

My boss is turning a blind eye to the fact that I intend to sleep with Anton to gain his trust, and in doing that, I don't want it recorded for anyone at the bureau to witness.

I'm a bit wild, but I'm not that kinky. Sex tapes, I'm all for, but not having the videos paraded around the office for anyone to view as part of the evidence in a takedown of the bratva. No, thanks.

I intentionally brush against Anton's left hand as I reach for the bottle of rum and pour another round. "No wife or girlfriend at home?" I ask, glancing at his bare hand.

He offers a sly smile. "I've always put my work first. That doesn't tend to sit well for many people." He downs the shot, and I pour him another before taking my second.

I shift around the table, not the least bothered by his remark, and he takes the third shot of rum like a pro.

"I'm not like most girls," I say, pinning him with my stare.

Anton clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. His eyes tighten, and I can sense his hesitation. For a bad guy, he doesn’t seem that terrible of a man. He hasn't forced himself on me. Hell, the man hasn't even tried to kiss me. I thought when I invited him into my place, he'd have taken the bait and made the first move.

I grab him by his tie and pull him closer and tighter against me. In my most sultry voice, I whisper, "I can't stop thinking about when we first met and I danced on your desk."

It was only a few hours ago, but I wanted him to know that he stirred a desire deep within me. I climb onto his lap, straddling him.

Anton lets out a breathy sigh, and before he can object, I plant my lips firmly on his. My fingers tangle in his thick dark locks. He tastes like rum and spice. His masculine scent tickles my nose and stirs my insides.

With Anton, I don't have to pretend to be attracted to him. It's real, even if my life and who I say that I am is a lie.

He takes the gesture as motivation, and his kisses are both strong and forceful, unrelenting. He nips on my bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth, and I swear the man growls at me.

It's predatory.

Sexual.

And I'm about to come undone by the sounds the man makes. Fuck, I'm supposed to be the one in control.

But somehow, he takes the lead and lifts me into his arms. My legs wrap around his waist. Our mouths seem practically fused, unable to tear apart long enough to breathe.

I need him to trust me, fall for me, and let me into his inner circle, and sex is the easiest way to gain his trust.

He stumbles toward the bedroom. Considering the apartment is small, and he traps me between the door to the bedroom, with my back pressed flush against the wood, it's not hard to find.

"Open it." His word is a command. My hands grapple at the door handle before clinging to him again, dragging his shirt up and over his head. Except it gets stuck. "Buttons," he mutters, and if I was trying to disorient him, I do a damn good job as he grumbles under his breath.

I slide down his body, my feet firmly landing on the floor. My back is to the mattress, but I feel it against my legs, and I could lie down. But I don't, not yet.

Instead, I reach around to help Anton with the buttons when he rips the shirt free and clear from his chest, tossing it across the room.

"Undress and get on the bed," he growls at me. I take a sharp breath and cross my arms at my hips, lifting my sweatshirt over my head. I'm not even wearing a bra underneath. "Pants, too," he orders.

I unbutton and unzip my jeans, slowly sliding them down my hips. I leave my panties and scoot back onto the mattress, crawling back to the pillows as he stalks me like I'm his prey.

He's not the least bit gentle or slow as he devours my lips. Anton is rough, but it's perfect as he straddles my waist and pins my arms down against the mattress.

"I've been wanting to taste you since you came into my office," he rasps, and my heart quickens at his admission.

I'd seen the desire behind his darkened gaze, much like it is now, his attention devoted entirely to me.

"Roll over," he whispers into my ear, and I can't help but wonder what he has in mind.

When I don't follow his command quickly enough, he releases his grip on my arms, and I inhale sharply, afraid that he will walk away.

But he doesn't. Instead, his hands tease my hips, flipping me around, and he guides my ass into the air. "I want you on all fours," he whispers, patting my bottom, his hand lingering over the lacy panties I wore just for him.

I hear him shucking his clothes to the floor, boxers and all. I glance at him over my shoulder, wanting to see him naked. He isn't just an assignment. Maybe that's all he should be—he's bratva, and I'm a federal agent. But I haven't had sex in too many months, and Anton is more than just a man with a pulse. Although, if I'm to be honest, that helps.

He's hot, making me even more eager to do this with him.

"Are you going to fuck me?" I ask. I'm already breathless and antsy. My insides throb and pulsate.

"You'd like that, kitten, wouldn't you?" he smirks.

I would, but he's taking his damn ass time. He bends down to pick up his suit and fold his slacks. Is he trying to kill me? Maybe he knows I'm a federal agent; this is just a game to him.

I shift to turn around and sit on my ass since he hasn't returned to the bed, when I feel his hand smack my bottom.

"Oww!" I squeal, and my eyes widen in horror. "What the hell was that for?" Did he seriously just spank me? A grown woman.

He puts me back in the position that he wants me, on all fours. His body touches mine from behind. I glance back over my shoulder at his thick cock, and I gasp at the sight. My mouth is dry, and I have the urge to lick my lips. Already, my insides ache, and it's going to hurt a hell of a lot more than just a little pinch.

He's large.

Huge.