The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms 1)

“Put your head on my shoulder,” I order. I wait for her compliance, but she sits stiffened by my side.

“Sadie,” I warn. “Do you think I don’t mean what I say?” I reach for her leg and give her a warning squeeze.

Her training would be a lot easier if we had more room in the cabin. Taking her across my lap for a spanking would likely subdue her, but it could get a little trickier in here. We normally travel with more luxurious aircraft than this, but we left too quickly to make arrangements and had to settle for something smaller.

“I don’t want to snuggle with you,” she spits out. It’s so cute, I can’t help but smile, but I quickly sober.

“I’m not asking you to snuggle.” What a stupid American word. “When I get you to my bed, there will be plenty of time for that. I asked you to put your head on my shoulder. Now do so. I’m not going to ask a second time.”

With an angry little huff, she finally does as she’s told and rests her head on my shoulder. Her body’s stiff and unyielding. I smile to myself. I’ll enjoy watching her reserve slip away as I mold her will to mine and show her the pleasures of submission. Eventually, her breathing calms, and she’s almost asleep when we hit a pocket of turbulence. The plane rocks like we’re a toy shaken in the hands of a giant. Sadie lets out a little scream and bolts upright, but I only hold onto the armrests and wait for news from the pilot. This might be just a pocket, or we could be hitting a serious patch.

Demyan curses and Maksym looks green around the edges. The plane roils and tumbles. Sadie whimpers beside me. Instinctively, I take the hand closest to me in both of mine.

“Breathe through your nose,” I command. “And close your eyes.”

Her eyes close and her lips purse. Inhaling, her shoulders rise and fall with the intakes of breath.

“Good,” I tell her. “This is just a little turbulence. We’ll find out what’s going on as soon as the pilot can tell us.”

Silently, she nods. The plane settles to a steady hum.

Such a pretty girl. I admire the slope of her nose and curve of her chin, the disheveled hair that looks like she just got out of bed. The image of “just fucked’ hair makes me hard. She may look like a nondescript nobody, but to me, I see nothing but her hidden potential. I revel in my plans for her, and when I close my eyes, my mind wanders to images of what I’ll do to her.

Lips, teeth, tongue. I’ll explore her intimately. Dominate her mind and body. Submit her will to mine.

I wait until she falls asleep before I close my eyes. As I drift off to sleep, the plane vibrates and dips. Sadie sits bolt upright, and even Demyan and Maksym look troubled by the sudden change. I reach for her hand and expect her to pull away, but instead she holds on tighter, her face paling.

“What’s happening?” she hisses. “God. You took me from my home and against my will and now you’re going to kill us.” The staid librarian has a temper.

“Quiet,” I order. “Sit and hold my hand and focus on your breathing.” I don’t have the patience for her anger right now.

“Yes, sir,” she says in mockery. My hand instinctively tightens on hers. She quiets.

I issue rapid commands in Russian to our attendant, who quickly goes to the front of the plane for details. She returns a moment later and comes straight to me.

“There’s nothing we need to fear, sir,” she says. “The pilot says we’ll settle soon.”

“Thank you.”

She leaves. Demyan closes his eyes and Maksym looks out the window.

“Head on my shoulder,” I order Sadie.

“Fine,” she whispers. “Might as well order me to kiss you or tell you I love you. If ordering people to do things they should do of their own free will gets your rocks off, lucky you.”

I dislike her rudeness, and console myself with the knowledge that soon, her temper and sharp tongue will be trained. Soon, we will be home. Still, I won’t allow her to run her mouth at me.

“Quiet. You’ve lost your privilege of speaking. Do so again and I’ll gag you.”

Though she fumes, she obeys.

I’ll give her a better use for that mouth. In time.Chapter SixSadieWith his shoulder as hard as a coffee table, I don’t expect to actually relax, but since sleep is the only escape for me, I’m grateful when it finally comes. I’m not sure how long I’m asleep, but when I wake, there’s a crick in my neck and the sun is rising out the window. I lift my head and try to stretch. Kazimir’s hands are folded on his lap, his eyes closed, but I doubt he’s really asleep. Does a man like him, who commands people and steals women just because he wants to, really ever sleep?