The Volkov Brothers Series: The Complete Series Page 8

  “What are you laughing at, milen'kiy?” Ben murmured, his voice rough with sleep and his lips soft against her skin.

  Carefully, so as not to disturb him, she rolled onto her back and checked the bandage on his forehead. It was clean and dry, which meant the bleeding had stopped. Good, especially with his insistence on not going to the ER. She’d been so worried all night that something horrible would happen and he’d die because she had no idea how to help him. But she should’ve expected that too, she supposed. He was Bratva. They were hardcore, mostly criminal, dangerous to no end. Yet, when she was with Ben, he was smart and charming and kind. And she’d never felt safer in her life.

  He squinted one eye open to look at her, his expression still dreamy. “Why are you in my bed?”

  She smiled. She should be asking herself the same question, since after their last night together, things had been a disaster. Lucy gave a little shrug. “You were hurt. I was worried about you. With your head injury, I didn’t want to have you go and die on me and then how would I handle my father?”

  Both golden amber eyes open now and staring at her with his too-perceptive gaze, Ben reached over to tuck her hair behind her ear. It took all her willpower not to purr and lean into his touch, no matter the troubles between them, no matter the short time they’d known each other. Her chemistry with Ben was incredible and she’d never experienced anything like it before.

  “Given how you handled him last night, I think you’d have no problem putting Mishin in his place, milen'kiy.” His fingers traced lazy patterns on her shoulder, her neck, her arm and Lucy couldn’t contain a shiver of pleasure. It was hard to concentrate when he was touching her, stroking her. His soft, full lips were so close now that she could lean in and kiss him, taste him, make him feel as good as he did her, but she stopped.

  He’d made it clear that his plans did not include more sex with her and after last night, she was all about showing him she could stick with the plan.

  That seemed to be working out for her too, until Ben leaned in to nuzzle the pulse point at the base of Lucy’s neck and her senses rioted. Lacing her shaky fingers through his hair, she whispered, “Uh, what’s happening here?”

  “Hmm?” Ben murmured between kisses on her skin. “If you need me to draw you a diagram, milen'kiy, then I’m doing it wrong.”

  She bit back a moan, snagging her lower lip between her teeth. “B-but, I thought you said…” He moved one of his legs between hers, allowing her to feel the full extent of his arousal pressed against her thigh. When he went full-on seduction like this, it was hard enough to think, let alone speak. “I t-thought you didn’t w-want to…”

  Ben lifted his head and held himself above her, his weight resting on his arms on either side of her head. “It was never that I didn’t want to, it was that I don’t want to lose control. My plan is to take things slow this time, to savor every inch of you, to be careful…and to keep you safe. Can you accept this plan?”

  At the moment, with molten desire erupting within her like a volcano, he could’ve said he wanted her to fly to Mars and back and she’d have accepted. In answer, she tugged him down for a deep, hot, open-mouthed kiss. By the time Lucy pulled away, they were both breathless and straining. “Yes, I accept.”

  “Otilchno.” Excellent. He moved fast, tugging the oversized shirt over Lucy’s head, leaving her in just her red lacy panties from earlier. He’d slept in boxer briefs and nothing else, and his hard cock now stretched the front of the cotton to near breaking point. She reached between them and stroked him through the fabric, savoring his deep groan of satisfaction.

  “Nyet,” he said, taking hold of her wrist and pulling her hand away. He kissed her palm before wrapping her hand around the iron bars of his bed frame. “I’m in charge, remember? This time I need to stay in control. Keep your hands there, unless I say otherwise. Understand?”

  She’d never really been into the D/s scene before, but something about his commanding tone sent her passion skyrocketing. Lucy nodded, feeling more turned on than she could ever remember in her life. “Yes.”

  “Yes, what?” Ben asked, kissing his way down the side of her neck to her breasts. He hovered over one nipple, his hot breath scorching her skin, teasing her.

  Lucy gripped the iron bars tight in her hands, her frustration mounting as she arched, desperate to feel his warm, wet tongue on her flesh. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Very good.” He flashed her a wicked grin before taking her nipple into his mouth, caressing it with his tongue while toying with its twin between his fingers. All the nerves in her body seemed focused on that one touch, that one kiss. She cried out, wanting more, needing more and his cock pulsed hot against her leg.

  “Please,” Lucy begged.

  “Please what, milen'kiy?” Ben asked, moving to lavish attention on her other breast. “Tell me what you want.”

  “I want…” Lucy gasped, feeling like she’d die if she couldn’t feel him inside her right now. “I want you to fuck me.”

  Ben chuckled and nipped the side of her breast playfully. The mix of pleasure and pain intensified her need. “You want me that bad?”

  “God, yes!” she growled, bucking her hips against him hoping he could feel the heat between her legs. “I need you inside me, right now.”

  “All in good time, milen'kiy.” He trailed his tongue down the center of her abdomen, removing her panties, then spreading her thighs wider with his hands. “All in good time.”

  He was taking this control thing to a whole new level, Lucy thought absently as he puffed air over her sensitive folds, driving her mad with desire. She tried to arch into him again, but he pressed a hand gently to her stomach, stopping her.

  “Control, remember?” he said, just before he spread her slick folds with his thumbs and traced his tongue over her hard clit. She screamed, not from pain, but from so much pleasure she thought she’d die from it. Pavlov whimpered and ran out of the room in a scurry of nails against hardwood, but Lucy was far too gone to care.

  Ben continued to lick her gently while working first one, then two fingers into her tight walls. Soon, she was grinding against his mouth and hands, so close to orgasm she could taste it. His plan was all about him staying in control. He’d never said anything about her losing herself in passion.

  Taking her clit between his lips, he circled his tongue around her and he curved his fingers upward inside her and that was all it took. She climaxed hard, fireworks exploding behind her closed eyelids as the world dissolved into glorious sensation. He coaxed her through wave after wave until she slowly relaxed against the mattress in a puddle of satisfied goo.

  He gave one last kiss to her quivering abdomen, then stood fast to remove his boxers and slick on a condom. Ben returned to her and kissed his way back up her body to her mouth, kissing her hard and deep, allowing her to taste the spicy flavor of her own arousal. Overcome, she let go of the bars to embrace him, only to remember his command and quickly grab hold again.

  Ben pulled away and smiled down at her, the tip of his cock poised at her wet entrance. “Very good, milen'kiy. Keep them there. No touching until I say.”

  “Yes, sir,” she purred, lifting her hips slightly to encourage him. “Whatever you say, sir.”

  “That’s better.” Biceps straining, he held himself above her, his heat surrounding her without his body touching hers. “Are you ready for me?”

  “Please, sir. Fuck me, sir.” Lucy said, her breath panting.

  “Da.” He drove himself deep within her in one long stroke, then held still, allowing her body time to adjust. Arms shaking slightly, Ben nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear. “How does that feel, Lucy? Tell me.”

  “Full.” She moaned. “So full, and tight, and wonderful, sir.”

  Slowly, Ben withdrew to his tip then thrust forward again, building his rhythm steadily until they were both close to orgasm again. From the shake of his muscles and the flush of his cheeks, Lucy could tell his tether of control was slipp
ing farther with each grind of their bodies together. She couldn’t help testing him, even though it went against his careful plans.

  “Are you close, sir?” she asked, rocking against him and clasping her inner muscles tight around his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

  He groaned deep in his throat, rough and feral, his heated amber gaze narrowing on her. “Don’t do that again.”

  “Do what, sir?” She squeezed him tight once more, knowing exactly what she was doing. Control was for the boardroom, not the bedroom. Lucy rocked her hips against him again, loving the friction of her clit against his pelvic bone. “This, sir?”

  With a roar, his tight control slipped its leash again and he all but devoured her with kisses and caresses, his thrusts growing harder, faster, deeper as they hurtled toward the edge of oblivion. She cried out as a second hard climax crashed over her and Ben wasn’t far behind.

  Once, twice, he drove into her then came hard, his back arched and his face tight with need. She let go of the headboard at last and held him close, easing them both down from the pinnacle of passion to earth again.

  Sated and sleepy, they cuddled together. He tucked her tight against him, his arm around her waist and his lips nuzzling her hair. Deep in her mind, she knew there would be repercussions from his side for this slip up on his plans, but for now she couldn’t bring herself to care. Ben was here, in her arms, and this was all she wanted.

  9

  Ben

  Will this suit your needs, Mr. Volkov?” the landlord asked.

  Ben exhaled and looked around the smaller studio loft one floor down from his, bending to scratch Pavlov behind the ears. “Yes, I think this will be fine. Did you bring the paperwork?”

  “Yep, I did. Just like you asked.” The super walked over to the nearby kitchen island to set out the contract for signing. The rotund man stifled a yawn as he turned back to Ben. “Sorry, sir. It’s a bit early for me.”

  Instead of responding, Ben grabbed the pen from the man’s hand and scrawled his name on the dotted line before handing the man one month’s rent plus the security deposit in cash he’d gotten from the safe in his wall. He’d learned early on to keep a bit of money on hand in case one needed a quick getaway—or a quick escape from a woman he could see all too easily slipping into his life and his bed, and fitting perfectly. “I appreciate you meeting me on such short notice. Thank you.”

  “Anything for you, Mr. Volkov,” the man said, shoving the money and the papers into his pants pocket. “Here’s your keys. Not sure why you need two places in the same building, but it’s not my place to ask.”

  “No, it’s not.” Ben leveled the guy a stern stare.

  The landlord backed away slowly, his laugh nervous. “Right. Sure. I, uh, I gotta get back to my place now.” He fumbled with the knob on the front door. “H-have a nice day.”

  Alone, Ben unleashed Pavlov and allowed him to check out his new digs on his own. The space wasn’t nearly as large as Ben’s on the floor above, but it was clean and safe and would do just fine for Lucy.

  His heart pinched at the thought of the woman he’d left sleeping in his bed upstairs.

  When he’d awakened two hours earlier, with her warm, soft body draped over his and her silky hair covering his chest, he’d felt a peace and sense of completion he’d never had before—which was terrible. Lucy was all wrong for him in so many ways. She was impulsive and free and far too emotional for her own good. Worse, she busted through all his carefully laid barriers and controls without even trying. And the kicker? Ben wanted to fall to his knees and thank her for the privilege.

  Jesus and the saints.

  That’s why he’d called his building’s superintendent at such an ungodly hour, insisted on seeing this place, forked over his own funds to pay for it. He needed space between himself and Lucy before he did something insane—like ask her to stay with him forever.

  They’d known each other less than a week. Her father was his current target.

  If Nik could see him now he’d laugh in his face. Or punch him. Or both.

  The great Ben Volkov—lover of all things ordered and analytical—felled by his enemy’s daughter. It made no sense, it was completely irrational and entirely unlike him.

  Yet, he seemed unable to fight his growing feelings for Lucy.

  She was dangerous to him in far more ways than one. She made him forget his duties, made him forget his plans, made him want to be wild and crazy and free. Made him want to live a life away from the Bratva and all the horrors it entailed.

  He raked his hand through his short hair and stalked back to the door, grabbing his own copy of the lease paperwork on the way out. Pavlov would be fine here alone until he could bring Lucy back down to see the place. He’d just walked the dog around the block twice and made sure he’d done all his business. Before leaving, he walked back into the kitchen and fixed the dog a makeshift bowl of water using a Tupperware container left behind by the previous tenant, then closed and locked the door behind him.

  On the elevator ride back up to his loft, he called the family’s Bratva minions and woke them up, sending them on a mission to Lucy’s old place to pack up her things and bring them over to the new address by that afternoon, warning them about the humongous dog that would greet them at the door, not caring that at this early hour they’d still be sleeping. After the way they’d fucked up at the art gallery, the men should be thankful for a chance to redeem themselves at all. Most people who screwed with the Bratva never got a shot at redemption.

  Peter Mishin certainly wouldn’t. Not if Ben had his way.

  He could’ve gotten Lucy killed the other night and that was totally unacceptable.

  Not to mention the money he’d stolen, the ridicule he’d brought down on Ben’s family because of his crimes. Hell. No. Mishin would pay dearly for his sins. Ben would make sure of it. Mishin didn’t deserve a daughter like Lucy. Lucy was too kind, too generous, too beautiful for the likes of that man.

  Determined, Ben walked back into his loft to find Lucy wandering around the living room, wearing his black T-shirt from the day before and calling out for Pavlov. At the sight of her, his heart raced and his body tightened. If circumstances had been different, Ben would’ve picked her up and carried her back to his bed and kept her there for eternity.

  As it was, they both had things to do and people to find.

  “Where’s Pavlov?” Lucy asked, frowning at him. “I thought maybe you took him for a walk.”

  “I did.” Ben tossed the lease paperwork and keys on the breakfast bar. “He’s downstairs.”

  “You left him alone outside?” Lucy walked up to him, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling with anger. “Why would you do that? He can’t take care of himself.” She eyed him up and down, her gaze narrowed. “And aren’t you up and ready awfully early. Are you running away again, Ben?”

  Yes. “Nyet.”

  “I expected you to be there when I woke up.” Lucy put her hands on her hips. “I thought we could talk about last night.”

  “No time to talk. Get dressed.” He knew he sounded like an arrogant ass, but it was either that or fall at her feet and beg her to forgive him, and even smitten as he was, he’d been trained his whole life to keep his emotions inside. “I’ll make some fresh coffee.”

  “Fuck the coffee. We need to talk about what happened. After I get my dog before he’s hurt or killed or worse. Where exactly did you leave him?”

  Her voice held a sharp edge that cut him to the bone. Luckily, he had his head buried in the cabinet searching for the coffee so she couldn’t see him. The idea he’d leave an innocent animal defenseless made his chest ache even more. Is that what she thought of him? That he was nothing more than a senseless brute? And yes, he’d done some awful things while working for the Bratva—beaten, stolen, maimed—but never without justification and never, ever to an innocent. He had honor, even if it was a bit skewed. Well, if she thought so little of him now, wait until she heard his bombshell news.
He squeezed his eyes shut and grabbed the bag of coffee and a filter before turning back to her. “The dog is not outside. He’s downstairs in your new apartment.”

  Lucy blinked at him a moment. “My what?”

  “Your new apartment. We can’t keep living on top of each other here. It’s not working for me.” He swallowed hard against the lie. “You are too disruptive to my plans. So, I took the liberty of renting the open apartment downstairs for you. I’ve paid the first month’s rent and security deposit and have sent men to retrieve your belongings from the old place and settle your debts there.” A muscle ticked near his tense jaw as he scooped grounds into the filter then slipped it into the basket of the coffee maker. This was good. Routine was good. It kept him focused and on track. Kept him from pulling her into his arms and telling her how sorry he was. He filled the carafe and poured water into the machine then hit start before finally turning to face her again. He pushed the keys and lease papers toward her, across the bar. “Here. I gave the dog water, but he’ll need food.”

  Her expression slowly shifted from disbelief to hard fury. “So that’s it then? We’re done? You fuck me, then shove me aside, and I’m supposed to just take it and go like some simpering idiot?” She grabbed the keys and the papers, crumpling them in her fist. “Well, fuck you, Ben Volkov. You don’t control me. You aren’t the boss of me. I’ll go downstairs but only to get my dog. Then I’m out of your life forever. Don’t worry.”

  Ben waited until the guest bedroom door slammed behind her then leaned back against the counter and exhaled. He’d made a plan, dammit. A plan which most sane people would’ve been grateful for. But his plan had failed to take into account Lucy’s emotions. Moments later, Lucy stomped past him and headed for the front door of his loft, still wearing his T-shirt, over a pair of jeans, her feet in flip flops. She looked so adorable he couldn’t stop himself. “Lucy, I—”

  She flipped him off as she headed out the door.