Conquered Bride (Belaya Bratva 1) - Page 16

So, I was nothing more than a vessel for his future. No, Sveta was that vessel, and I didn’t have a lick of her blood coursing through my veins.


When Gavril grabbed my arm, I didn’t fight him, my thoughts scattering as to what to tell him about who he truly had forced into marriage. He was going to kill me.


He moved into the next room and before I had time to react, he threw me onto the biggest bed I had seen, the comforter already pulled back to reveal black sheets ready for us to dirty up.


I tried to scramble away, but Gavril grasped my knees and forced my legs apart, his hand reaching in to tear the scrap of lace I had put on this morning and cast it aside. My entire body went still, and I forgot to breathe as he stared at me, his gaze feral.


“Mine,” he hissed as his hand crudely slipped up my leg and touched me.


Heaven help me, I was already wet for him, the anticipation building inside at what he might do. I had experienced rough sex before, but the way he was looking at me, I felt like he could devour me. His fingers probed my slick entrance before roughly shoving inside, causing me to cry out at the intrusion. I knew what he was after, what he thought he would find, and when he didn’t, confusion dawned on his face.


“What the fuck?” I heard him mutter, pulling his fingers out of me, coated with my wetness.


But not blood like he expected to find.


For a split second, I thought about lying to him again, telling him that I had broken my hymen riding a bike or something like that. Then again, at some point, I would have to come clean.


“I’m not Sveta,” I blurted out in English, catching his angered gaze.


“What?” he barked out in perfect English himself, his hand clenching my inner thigh. There was still a thick burr of Russian in his accent, making him sound unbelievably sexy even though he was royally pissed off now. “What is the meaning of this?”


“I’m not Sveta,” I tried again, wetting my dry lips with my tongue. “I’m Naomi Spencer. I was used to bait Stanislav into thinking that his daughter was still alive, but she was killed.” The words just came tumbling out, and I watched as Gavril’s face grew redder by the second. He had been duped, but in all fairness, I hadn’t asked to be kidnapped.


His jaw clenched. “Who else knows about this?”


Every word came out in biting fashion, but I refused to cringe. I had dealt with worse in my lifetime. “Roman Marchetti and his wife. Everyone else is dead.”


Gavril backed away then, shoving a hand through his hair. This wasn’t what he had planned for tonight, I was sure of it. “That fucking bastard!” he shouted.


I did cringe then. After all, I was the only one in the room that he could take his anger out on, and there was no doubt that he was pissed off, the veins bulging out of the side of his neck, his face red with anger.


I was going to die in this bed tonight.


But then he looked down at me, still half naked on his bed. “It doesn’t matter,” he said as he reached for his trousers. My mouth went dry as his heavy cock sprang forth once more and he grabbed my ankles, dragging me to the edge of the bed.


“W-what?” I gasped as he slid between my thighs, his cock probing at my entrance. He didn’t care about who I was?


Gavril leaned down. “Tell me who you are,” he said, coating the tip of his cock with my wetness.


“Naomi,” I forced out, every thought scattering from my mind.


My husband gripped my face with his rough fingers. “Wrong. Tell me who you are.”


I let out a whimper as he slowly thrust between my legs, the tip of his cock feathering my swollen clit. My body betrayed me, arching up to take him closer still. I couldn’t think. Gavril was filling every sense with his smell and his touch.


“My name is Sveta,” I finally let out in Russian. “Sveta.”


He pushed hard, and I screamed as he filled me to the core in one swoop. I panted as my body adjusted. I felt every inch of his swollen cock inside of me as he started to move. I wanted to push him out of me, to give myself a minute, but a small piece of me wanted to pull him even deeper until I couldn’t breathe right.


When he pulled back, I whimpered, my hands reaching out blindly to grab something, anything to ground myself on this bed, in this moment. What I found was the comforter, just in time to clench my hands in its softness before Gavril pounded into me again


Being filled by Gavril…I had never felt so complete. This was everything I wanted when he had face-fucked me in front of Vera. To give in to his power. To let him take control. To not know where I ended and where he began.


His pace became relentless, his fingers digging into my hips as he urged me higher. “Tell me your name,” he growled.


“Sveta,” I panted, feeling the pressure build. His hips ground into mine, sending waves of pleasure against my clit. A whimper escaped my lips as I clung on helplessly as he used me. With every thrust, I felt the pressure build deep inside of me. A whimper. Then a moan. And slowly, I felt myself losing control.


His thrusts grew more forceful, and he pushed as deep as he could inside of me.


“Sveta,” he snarled, his cock pumping like a piston. “My Sveta.”


I knew why it meant so much to him, but it wasn’t going to change the ending. I wouldn’t be giving him what he wanted, and the thought terrified me. My legs started shaking. My eyes blurred as tears clouded my vision. But whether from pleasure or pain, I could no longer tell.


“Please…” I begged. But I didn’t know what I was begging for anymore. Part of me wanted him to stop, and another part wanted him to keep going. The warmth in the pit of my stomach returned and I clung to it, knowing that there was nothing else I could do.


I reached up to touch him, but his rough hands pinned mine down into the bed above my head. His face hung above me. I was reaching closer and closer to my peak.


The first twitch came almost unbidden, and then came another. And another. Faster. Faster. Until suddenly I found myself arching into his hard body. An intense heat radiated from deep within and traveled from the tips of my fingers to the roots of my hair. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I could barely even see. All I could do was instinctively wrap my legs around him as he continued to use me.


“Please,” I begged again. I clenched around him. Even with his brutality, I still had managed to find my own release.


“Fuck!” he shouted. Not even a second later, Gavril let go himself. I felt his cock swelling inside of me, and a warm sensation flooded my depths. For a moment, I couldn’t process what was going on as he continued thrusting, pushing his seed deeper inside.


He knew the truth, but he still had sex with me and came inside me. It doesn’t make any sense.


Then a realization hit. He could still be getting ready to kill me. He had no use for me, and me pretending that I was Sveta wasn’t going to give him his ultimate goal.


Panic set in as he pulled out, his cock shiny from my own release, and I watched as he tucked it back in to his trousers, his movements angry and jerky. He was pissed off.


When he was done, his glare found me.


“Not a word to anyone,” he growled. “Or I will slit your throat.”


I gave him a short nod, letting him know I had gotten the message. I wasn’t about to betray anything right now if it meant that I could remain alive.


He didn’t respond but walked away, leaving me in the bedroom, and a moment later, I heard the door slam shut.


He had left me in his domain. I was still alive.


For a moment I lay there, staring up at the ceiling in silent horror and shock. I had told Gavril the truth about who I was.


He now knew I wasn’t the woman he needed, the plan he had apparently constructed to take control of Sveta Orlov and what her father had maintained in his lifetime. He wanted a child, the one thing that no one could turn their back on when it came time for him to take over Stanislav’s Bratva.

Tags: Brook Wilder Belaya Bratva Romance
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