Glazov (Born Bratva Book 1) Read Free Page B

again, but this time, it was because my hands were shaking so badly. He yelled out something in Russian and grabbed my upper arm, forcing me into the back of his limo.
    He immediately raised the divider and began his assault on me. His hand wrapped around my throat as he spoke.
    “I told you that I was not a patient man. I’m no longer asking you; now, I’m telling you. Your place is with me!”
    His hand tightened around my throat right before his mouth clamped over mine. His full lips were soft as his tongue darted into my mouth. He explored, slowly tasting every part of my mouth, while he intermittently nibbled on my bottom lip.
    “Please, Glazov. Please, you can’t just insist that I belong to you now; it’s ludicrous.” With his mouth covering my own and my resistance to kissing him back, my protests were muffled.
    “I want you, and I’m not taking no for an answer. You are not going home. Your place is with me, or your friend dies.”
    My throat constricted. He’d said it. He had come right out and said that if I didn’t agree to his terms, he would kill my assistant. This was crazy! People didn’t act like this, did they? This was uncivilized behavior. He couldn’t be serious.
    Suddenly, as if a light went off, I understood I was being blackmailed. I was being offered my friend’s life in exchange for agreeing to sleep with Alexander Glazov, the Russian mobster.
    He tugged at my blouse and lifted my breast from where it was tucked away in my bra. I watched as he carefully placed my silk blouse back over it. He licked and sucked at my nipple through the material until it became saturated with his saliva. He then gently ran a finger around my areola until my nipple peaked and pebbled for him, begging for attention.
    I tried to lean back against the door. I was horrified, yet at the same time, I was transfixed and compelled to watch him as he continued to lap and suck at my nipple through the silk.
    Even through his dress shirt, I could see the sinewy muscles of his back ripple with his movement, and they tempted me to dig my fingertips in to feel the bumps and ridges. His blond hair looked like a thick mane, and I wanted to reach down to comb my hands through it.
    The lights and shadows of the city night appeared and disappeared in the car’s backseat window as the limo drove us smoothly through the streets to an unknown destination.
    What he was doing to me felt so good, and my body was responding to him. It was evident this man knew the art of seduction, and he was unloading his arsenal of knowledge, using it in a way that would completely overwhelm me.
    My thoughts short-circuited somewhere between reason and the pleasure he was subjecting me to. After going through a break-up from my last long-term relationship, my only form of sexual pleasure had been by my own hand. It had been four years since I felt the touch of a man.
    “I have thought about doing this to you since last night. I want to fuck you, Kathleen. I want to bury myself so deeply inside you that you’re writhing in pleasure. I want to taste your essence, bring you right to the point of release, and then I want to make you wait until you’re crying out for mercy. I want to hear you begging and pleading for me to let you come. I want your sexy mouth screaming out my name as you explode in ecstasy. I. Want. You.”
    As soon as we stopped at our destination, he jerked me from the car and pulled me into his mansion. He quickly dragged me down a long corridor and pushed me into his bedroom. He pinned me to the wall and commanded me not to move.
    His eyes glared at me as he raised my arms above my head and held them securely by my wrists with one hand. I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. He was an impenetrable mountain of flesh, and he not only held me captive with his strength, but I was paralyzed in my state of pleasure and angst as well.
    Once again, he was pulling me into his world of polar opposites. He was a contradiction in terms when