Epilogue One Year Later

EPILOGUE: ONE YEAR LATER

Maggie

“Alexei. If you put any more tinsel on that tree, it’s going to fall over.”

I laugh as Alexei turns. It’s night, and the house is finally asleep. We’re hosting a lot more people this year. My mom and dad, of course, because they live with us full time now. Not in Orlov House, but in one of the minor houses down in the village. Alexei has relatives coming in this year too, because we decided that this year, we’re going to bring back one of the traditions from his mom’s time.

We’re having a huge Christmas party.

“Well. I suppose I am a little… enthusiastic,” he mutters.

Alexei steps back, dusting his hands off on his soft pants. “Come, Milaya,” he murmurs.

I step into his arms, sighing as he tucks me under his arm.

We survey the tree…

Together.

It’s beautiful. We’ve made some changes from last year, including putting his mother’s portrait over the fire, so she can join the party.

I swear she smiles in the sparkling light.

“Milaya, are you ready for this?” Alexei murmurs.

Most of the guests will finish arriving tomorrow, which is going to be amazing.

“I’m ready,” I say.

I turn to look at Alexei. “Are you?”

He wrinkles his nose. “And share you with so many people? No.”

I laugh. “You don’t have to share me. I’m all yours, my love,” I murmur.

He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses it.

I love this. I love him.

Alexei is perfect for me.

His blue eyes flash a little. “I have something for you.”

“You do?”

“Come with me,” he murmurs.

I laugh. Alexei really does love to give gifts. I’m definitely not going to complain, so I follow him down the many hallways of Orlov House to our room.

Inside, the bed is neatly made…

But there’s a black box on it.

I look at him, curiosity in my eyes. “We said we weren’t going to do gifts this year!”

Alexei always says no gifts. Then he always gets them.

But this time, I’m prepared.

I’m going to be the one surprising him with a gift this year.

“See what’s inside, milaya.”

Curious, I step forward. I put my hands on the box, and slide it closer.

Alexei moves behind me, kissing the side of my neck. I smile and shut my eyes, leaning into his kiss.

“This is not a gift we will share. This is for us. Just for you… and just for me,” he whispers.

I open my eyes and gasp, his kiss hitting me like a shot of straight adrenaline. My hands shake slightly as I pull the black cardboard closer to take a look inside.

Alexei always has this effect on me. I take a minute to compose myself before I pull the lid off of the box.

“No wrapping this year?” I tease.

He shakes his head, and I look down.

My jaw drops.

It’s a box of sex toys.

My heart pounds as I look them over. “Alexei,” I murmur as I pick up a glass dildo. “This… how…. Did you remember that I said I wanted to try these?”

I liked my vibrator, and a few months ago, I had mentioned to Alexei that I might be interested in more toys.

“Of course I did. Merry Christmas Alexei,” he says with a laugh. He slides to the bed in front of me, and tugs at my flowy cotton pants.

I sit on the bed and let him pull them off as I examine the other items in the box. “I.. I don’t really know where to start.” I look away, hiding my blush.

“Well. That makes sense, milaya. I thought we could decide together,” Alexei rasps. He moves to stand between my legs, and moves the box next to me on the bed, where he can access them. He cups my chin and brings my face to his. The redness across my chest creeps up in my cheeks, and I gaze adoringly into his eyes.

It’s strange, to feel like I’m caught right now. I’m definitely curious about the box…

But I also feel a little vulnerable right now.

However, there’s no one I would rather feel more vulnerable with than Alexei.

He tugs at my face until I meet his gaze. His eyes are warm and soft, and he rubs his thumb along my jaw in a familiar soothing gesture. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he reassures me.

“It’s not that,” I say with a sigh. My throat works, but I don’t want to say that I am embarrassed about not knowing what to start with, or how to use them. He waits patiently for me to continue. God, he’s always so patient with me.

Alexei is the best man on the face of the planet. I’ll never think otherwise.

And, I owe him an answer.

“I don’t know what to do,” I whisper.

I really do want to use more toys, but I don’t know where to start, and the box is…

Well. It’s kind of intimidating.

Alexei folds me into his arms and hugs me close. As I have for the last year, I sag into his warm chest.

“Maggie?”

“Yeah?”

“We will go as slow as you need. I want to show you how very, very good this can feel. Would you like me to show you?”

I pull back and the tension inside me unfurls a little.

Alexei is undoubtedly the love of my life. He always makes me feel better. Through the past year, we’ve come across many challenges. Neither of us knows the answers to everything, but Alexei is so good at keeping calm and making me feel like I can do anything, it doesn’t really matter.

It’s been a heck of a year.

But with Alexei, I can take on anything.

And I am really freaking excited to try this.

Especially with him.

“How did you pick which ones to order?” I ask as I study the box again.

He shrugs. “I just went with one of each category.”

My lips curl into a smile. “You just randomly clicked on one?”

Alexei’s cheeks get a little red. Well. It looks like I’ve done the impossible, and gotten under the skin of my cool-as-a-cucumber husband. “Milaya, I picked the highest rated one in each category,” he says a little defensively.“I got so distracted thinking about you using them that I could not possibly choose just one.”

I laugh and put a quick peck on his cheek. “Thank you, Alexei.”

“No, milaya. The thanks are all mine. Now. Are you ready?”

I wink at him. “Let’s see what toys you put in my stocking, love.”

I lay back down on our bed, and pull my soft cotton pants off all the way. His attention focuses in on me with laser-like intensity and goosebumps break out over my skin. I hook a finger in my panties and slowly pull them down my legs.

I can feel his eyes track the whole way.

Over the last year, I’ve gotten a lot bolder. I like it.

Alexei loves it.

His stare is something I’ve gotten used to, and I have to say, it’s part of the game now.

I sigh, pretending to be unaffected by the weight of his focus, and shrug. “I guess we should just pick one and see how it goes.”

Alexi’s eyes go molten. They take on that hungry look that I love so much to see as he scours my naked body. I let my legs fall open, showing him my center and where I am so incredibly wet for him.

He scrubs a hand over his mouth as he looks. “God, milaya. You’re so fucking pretty.”

I move a hand down toward my core, loving how he watches every second of the journey. “Pick one, Alexei,” I repeat huskily.

He blinks like he’s trying to gather his thoughts. With wide pupils that never leave mine, his hand gropes in the box and pulls out the glass dildo that I was a little intimidated by earlier. Dimly, I notice it has a unique shape and color.

I laugh. “Alexei, is that shaped like a candy cane?”

“It’s festive,” he says hoarsely, and I laugh even as I swirl my fingers around my clit. Alexei, still fully clothed, tucks the glass into his waistband. He puts his shirt over it. I tilt my head at him in curiosity.

“To warm it up,” he explains. “It’s too cold right now. I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

I shiver, because part of me wonders what it would feel like cold. However, given how truly dismal the Russian winter can be, I realize that he probably is right. I nod and arch for him, showing my body’s features.

It’s a good thing he hasn’t noticed how they’re changing…

Yet.

“Touch me, Alexei,” I whisper.

He obeys.

Alexei falls on my breasts like he’s starving. He pulls the delicate cups of my lingerie down and licks my nipples into stiff peaks. Gently, he bites the underside of my breasts. I moan as his hand covers mine, playing with my clit as he teases my nipples into tender points. “You’re so wet for me, Maggie. So wet, and it’s all mine,” he growls.

I shiver.

His words always take my arousal from simmering to nuclear within seconds. That’s the other thing. Alexei is always restrained. Even when he’s angry, I’ve never seen him really lose his cool.

But in bed, I can make him lose his cool. I make him turn into a possessive nightmare.

A possessive nightmare that I absolutely freaking love.

“You’re such a good girl, Maggie. You’ll do anything for me, won’t you?”

“Yes,” I purr as his tongue lashes over my neck.

“You want to see what this box can do for you, pretty Magie?”

I shudder. His dirty talk always gets me. “ Yes ,” I moan.

He leans back and grabs the glass candy cane dildo from his waistband. Slowly, he presses it to my entrance. “Do you want any lube, baby?”

“No,” I whisper. The glass is still slightly chilly, and I can feel it stretching my entrance. I know it will slide in without a problem, because my arousal is always off the charts when Alexei and I go for it like this.

I thought it would get old.

And it never has.

“Okay,” Alexei says. He presses it inside me. My eyes watch the red and white glass disappear into my body, and Alexei’s face takes on a pained look. “Fuck, Maggie. That’s so incredible.”

He pulls it back out and my eyes nearly roll back in my head at how freaking good it felt.

“Alexei, that feels amazing,” I moan. I don’t feel him moving, so I open my eyes.

He’s staring at me. His face looks almost gaunt with hunger, and he stares at where the toy is embedded in my core.

“Fuck yourself with it,” he commands in a low voice that makes me ache for him.

Well.

I did say that I’ve gotten bolder over the past year.

I reach down and grab the curve of the dildo. Slowly, I push it into me. It makes a wet noise that has both of us moaning, and I draw it out just as slowly.

Alexei curses in Russian, and from what I can gather, he’s doing his best to hold on to his control. “Maggie. I can see your wetness all over it.”

I don’t say anything, but arch my back and repeat the motion. Alexei doesn’t move. He watches me as I move the toy in and out of myself, slowly learning the boundaries of where I can press it and where I can’t. The curved handle is delightfully easy to just hook a finger in, and with every thrust I grow more and more slick. The noises my body makes as the glass goes in and out of me are bordering on obscene, but it feels so freaking good that I’m not self-conscious at all.

And the whole time, Alexei just watches.

“Do you like it?” I whisper after a while. I’m not self-conscious, but he hasn’t moved in minutes. I’m worried, suddenly, that something is off.

“Oh, Maggie,” he moans. He stands and I can see his thick cock outlined against his dress pants. “You are doing so fucking well. I have never seen anything sexier than you taking that fucking glass candy cane.”

I should laugh. It’s an absurd image. But the way Alexei’s eyes consume me, I know there is nothing funny about the situation.

I keep going, working myself into a near fever state. “Alexei,” I groan. “I want to come, but I… I don’t think I can.”

The words take a second to sink in, but as soon as they do, Alexei moves like lightning. His hand shoots into the box and pulls out a small vibrator. His hands shake as he finds the power button, and I hear the vibrator buzz. He presses it against my clit and I nearly pass out at the sensation. It’s a little too much, and I squirm.

“Is that good, baby?” His voice is so concerned, and love for him washes over me all again.

“No,” I whisper. “A little too hard.”

He backs off slightly, and starts to move the head of the toy on my clit in a circle. I gasp as electricity shoots up my spine. “There,” I grit out.

Alexei listens. The pressure is perfect, and I can feel my orgasm spreading across my low belly. My muscles start to shake, and I close my eyes. I pull the candy cane dildo out of me as my climax builds, and I’m almost there…

Alexei pulls the vibrator off of my clit, and I nearly scream.

“No!” I moan. I prop myself up on my elbows to look at him. “I’m so close!”

“I told you to fuck yourself with it,” he says, staring at where the dildo hangs from my fingers. “Not to stop.”

“You…” I sit up on my elbows, but Alexei lightly collars my neck with his hand and pushes me back down.

“You want to come, milaya?” He growls at me.

I nod.

“Then do what I say.”

It’s a command, plain and simple.

This is new for us. I’m not sure that I like it, but the twinkling of Alexei’s warm and happy self sparkles in his eyes as he stares me down.

This isn’t just anyone.

This is Alexei .

And I want to please him.

I nod, slowly pressing the dildo into my soaking core. Alexei watches. His lips quirk into a smile. “Good girl,” he says.

Oh.

Well I do like that.

The buzz of the vibrator fills my ears again, and he presses the vibrator back against me with that same light pressure as before. “Keep going,” he grunts.

I do.

It takes about six more pumps of the dildo before I come.

I scream his name when I do.

My limbs are numb after. I lay limp on our bed. I feel Alexei pull the dildo out of me, and shudder as it caresses my tender flesh. I might have drifted off to sleep, because the next thing I know I’m under a blanket and Alexei’s arms are around me.

“Alexei,” I mumble as I stretch against him.

“Merry Christmas, Milaya,” he murmurs.

That reminds me.

Stirring, I prop myself up on my elbows and squint at him. “Do you need um… anything?”

He shakes his head.

I know that he’s probably sporting the erection to end all erections, but Alexei is like that. Sometimes, he just wants to watch me. He wants to make sure that I’m taken care of, first.

It’s why I know he’s going to be a great dad.

Taking a huge breath, I steel myself for the courage about what’s going to come next.

I send a silent prayer up to his mother, who I hope didn’t exactly watch what we just did, but I hope she’s watching over us and giving me the courage I need.

I roll over onto my stomach. “I have something for you.”

Alexei’s lips tuck into a frown. “Milaya, you are not supposed to get me a gift.”

“Okay, that seems like the pot calling the kettle black a little, sir.”

“My gift was a gift for the both of us,” he says smugly, tucking my face into his shoulder.

I giggle as he kisses the side of my neck. “Alexei. Seriously. This is a present for both of us too. Kind of,” I say.

He pulls back. “Well. If it is for the both of us, milaya, then please. Do tell me.”

I take a huge breath. I grab one of Alexei’s hands, and pull it down, running his warm fingers past my breasts and all the way until I stop it right on top of my belly.

His eyes darken. “Milaya, I told you, I don’t need?—”

“I’m pregnant,” I whisper.

It takes Alexei a second to figure out what I said. I wonder if I should repeat it in Russian, because he seems to be struggling to process.

Then, when he realizes, his eyes go wide. “Maggie,” he croaks. “Really?”

“Really,” I whisper.

His jaw drops. Then, his eyes widen with fear. “But we just…”

“I’m pretty new,” I whisper. “It’s not like the baby knows, or anything.”

“The baby…” his voice gets thick. His eyes look up to mine. “Our baby.”

“Yes, Alexei. Our baby,” I whisper.

I squeak when he tugs me close, pressing a huge kiss on my lips. His hand on my belly trembles.

“Milaya?”

“Yes?” I ask.

“You are the best gift. I love you,” he whispers.

I smile, pressing my lips to his.

“I love you too.”

Thank you for reading Maggie and Alexei’s story, Please leave me a review they help me succeed as an independent author.

Get ready to lose some sleep on this next spicy drama filled dark and dangerous Bratva King’s Secret Twins. Meet Gwen an innocent smart and sassy law student who had drop out to work and help her family. Nikolai- her dark, and dangerous knight. See who falls first and hard…

Chapter 1

Gwen

“Well goddamn, darlin’, you keep spinning like that you might just take my whole paycheck,” Jacob, a regular with graying hair and a worn smile, yells to me.

I roll my hips, arching my back while I slide down the pole. My black curls cascade over my shoulder, and a sultry smile spreads across my lips.

“Baby,” I purr, swinging my hair over my shoulder. I slide to the floor and crawl closer to the balding man holding a wad of 5’s, “it’ll be the best check you’ve ever spent.”

He howls like a maniac, and his friends happily shower me with bills. That’s right, keep them coming. Your paycheck will definitely put me ahead of payments for Mason.

I lean back, letting the pink light from above wash over me. The music fades, and Justin's sorry-ass voice comes over the loudspeaker. “Give it up for the delicious Cinnamon!” I roll back on my heels, licking my lips at the older men. “But hold onto your bulges, boys, because next up is a sweet little slice of heaven. Welcome Angel!”

I gather all the money I can, stuffing it into my panties and bra and make my way off the stage. “What the fuck, Dylan? I had at least ten more minutes in my set!”

Dylan, the club’s owner, rolls his eyes as he lights a cigarette. “Gwen, you were boring the crowd.”

“How fucking dare you?—”

“Aye, watch your fucking mouth, or I’ll take you off the books for a week!” I press my lips firmly together, crossing my arms over my chest.

“That’s illegal, you know.”

“And you know I don’t like legal chat in my club.” Dylan flicks the cigarette ash on the floor, giving me an annoyed look.

I smile, grabbing the cig out of his hand. “I see. I can only talk legalese when I’m getting you out of trouble.” Dylan gives me a humorless laugh as I take a long pull. “Go figure.”

Two years ago, I was at the top of my class at Georgetown Law, with dreams of becoming the best defense attorney in Washington, D.C. But then Dad disappeared after Mason threatened to break his legs. Mason had told Nana Rose that Dad’s debt was her debt. Despite everyone telling me not to, I dropped out of Law School to help pay off the debt because no one hurts Nana Rose, not if I can help it.

So when Dylan’s club was facing the threat of being shut down due to rumors of illegal activities in the secret “peek-a-boo” rooms upstairs, we made a deal: I would use my legal expertise to help him, and in return, he would allow me to work on the main stage at Dream Palace until I paid off my father’s debt.

“Ha. Ha. Funny.” Dylan snatches his cigarette back. “Now go out there and offer a dance to some of Mason’s crew. They haven’t spent any money yet.”

Fuck. I shift my weight from side to side, biting the inside of my cheek. Mason probably sent some of his men to collect the measly 500 dollars I pay towards my father’s quarter of a million-dollar debt. “Come on, they love Angel way more than me.” I roll my eyes, trying to count the bills in my hands quickly.

“Chop. Chop. You know you’re Tyler’s favorite.” I roll my eyes, continuing to count. 15. 20. 25. Fuck, I only got 375.

I push my breasts up and take a deep breath, steeling my nerves. “I thought I was boring,” I mock, sticking my tongue out at Dylan.

“Don’t pick a fight with me. Get out there.” Dylan points the cigarette at the door behind me, and I huff, sharply turning around on my six-inch stilettos.

I add an extra sway in my hips and make my way to the main floor, sliding just out of reach of some of the handsy men. I get wolf calls and “Hey baby,” but there is one set of eyes that silently weigh on me.

I look up to the left corner of the club, my eyes locking with a set of deep blue eyes. His gaze burns into mine, causing a thrill to ripple through me. I can feel his eyes tracing every curve, every dip of my silhouette, as I make my way through the club. I am drowning in his bright blue eyes.

He holds my gaze and lazily sips the amber liquid from his tumbler. I lean forward, eyes hooded behind the rogue strand from his slick back, dirty blonde hair. I can’t help but keep my gaze on him, his presence drawing me like a moth to a flame.

“Goddamn, you are fine!” Tyler’s whistle breaks the man’s trance. I look up at the smug motherfucker in a white tank top and dirty blue jeans. His buzz cut is colored green but looks purple under the neon lights, and despite all the ways he could be cute, he is just shy of being good-looking.

I stare at the angry pink scar pulsating on his face, but I mask the shiver of disgust with a seductive smile. “Well, I heard you boys were looking for me?”

“Hell yeah, baby!” An eager member who looks a little too young to be in here smiles, looking at the rose tattoo that spirals up my legs and gathers on my left butt cheek.

“Come sit on Daddy’s lap, Gwen.” There is nothing more unattractive than a man calling himself Daddy. Major ick. That honor should be bestowed upon you, not self-titled.

“Oh, come, Ty. If you want to take me home, you need to try harder than that.” I walk closer, almost between his thighs, crossing one foot in front of another, sliding my hips side to side like a snake charmer. Tyler leans back in his chair, legs wide, eyes hooded with a visible tent growing in his jeans.

“You know Mason won’t let none of us touch you.” I give him my best pout, squatting between his legs and peering up through my eyelashes.

Leaning up by his ear, I whisper, “Well, ain’t that too damn bad.” I’m not fucking Mason. I’m not fucking anyone, never have, but Mason claimed me as if I was his future wife. He knows if I had it my way, I’d have him swimming with the fishes before I would ever voluntarily call him husband.

Tyler swallows, his eyes running over the curves of my body. When his eyes land on mine, he licks his lips and says, “Jordan is waiting outside for this week’s payment. Side door.”

“Thanks, love.” I wink, blowing Tyler a kiss that makes his eyes lower.

With a flamboyant flourish, I turn around and switch my hips over to the side door when my eyes drift up to that man again. The tumbler he was drinking out of is abandoned on the side table next to his empty seat, glittering under the dance lights. I huff, blowing air between my lips. You need to get it together, Gwen; no paying attention to the hot, mysterious stranger’s absence when Venom is waiting for payment.

Maneuvering through the crowd and keeping out of Dylan’s eyeline, I make my way to the side alley. Knocking my right shoulder into the metal door, I stumble into the side alley where the midnight air bites at my exposed flesh. I gaze to my right, where Venom lazily smokes a cigarette.

“Venom, buddy!” I laugh, holding the metal door open with my hip and crossing my arms under my chest. “How the hell are ya?”

Venom, a big, burly man with thin lips and a bald head so shiny it gleams in the streetlights, smiles at me, flicking the ash from the cigarette at my feet. “Well, Gwendolyn?—”

“Ew, not my full government.” I grimace. Venom smirks, looking at me from the corner of his eye, and if I didn’t watch him break my father’s kneecap with his bare hands, Venom would be just my type. He is the enforcer in Mason’s inner circle, and if I ever stopped paying my payments, Venom would be the one to track me down and kill me after he has all the fun he wants with me, and from his gaze, I can tell I would be in for a long night.

“From the tone of your voice,” he takes another pull of his cigarette, “you’re missing part of your payment.” I cross my legs, giving my most innocent smile.

“Oh, only by 125 dollars.”

Venom lets out a low whistle.

“But I have three hours left in this shift. I promise I’ll have it by the end. I mean, come look at these.” I motion to my breasts with a clever grin on my face.

Venom finally turns his body to me, his eyes shamelessly ogling my chest. His smile widens, showcasing his pearly whites, while his eyes move from my breasts to the curve created by my tiny waist and wide hips.

I place my left hand on my hip. “Woah there, Venom. Keep looking at me like that, and I’ll charge you.”

Venom tosses the cigarette on the floor and places both of his large hands on my hips, dragging me into his chest. I yelp, scrambling to fight him off before the door closes, but I am too late, and he is too strong. “You know there is an easier way to work off that debt, Gwen.”

“Oh,” I giggle nervously, trying to wiggle out of his embrace, but Venom pulls me in closer, forcing me to inhale his stink of cigarettes. I almost gag on the smoke still spilling out of his lips. I make my voice firm, losing all of my playfulness as I make eye contact with his black eyes. “Venom, if you are looking for a lap dance, go inside the club.”

“Baby, I don’t want no fucking lap dance,” Venom’s smile is sinister, “I want you on your knees sucking my dick,” he whispers heavily.

“Venom, what the fuck?” I jerk back in his arms, moving to knee him in the dick.

“You’re right; that’s only worth like fifty.” His hands run from my waist, and he grips both of my cheeks, kneading my ass. “I’ll fuck you in the ass after. We can call that an even 200, what do you say?”

“Mason will fucking kill you-”

“Nah, because you are going to be a good girl and not say a word.” He pulls me in closer and licks my cheek.

“Venom, you bring your dick anywhere near me and I’ll bite it off,” I growl, slamming the heel of my stilettos into the toe of his combat boots; he doesn’t even flinch.

“I always knew fucking you would be rough.” Venom spins me around, wrapping my hair around his hand. He tries to push me down to my knees.

No. No. No. I can’t lose my virginity like this and definitely not to a guy named fucking Venom . I dig my heels into the ground, using my body as leverage to keep me from hitting the ground, but Venom is too strong. My knees buckle, and I am left panting and praying to Gods I don’t believe in for any solace.

A shot whizzes through the air. Venom jumps back, looking for his weapon, and tosses me to the ground as if I am nothing. “Fucking hell,” Venom growls, searching the area for the assailant.

“I don’t miss twice.” A thick Russian accent rumbles through the air, but I am in too much panic to appreciate it.

The minute I hit the ground, I pat the area around me, looking for a weapon to defend myself. My fingers wrap around the neck of an empty beer bottle. I grab it, smashing it against the concrete wall and stumbling over to the other side of the alley, out of Venom’s reach, brandishing the broken bottle as a weapon.

“When a lady says no, the answer is no.” The silky tenor of the voice causes a shiver to run down my spine. My eyes lock with the same bright blue eyes I almost drowned in.

Chapter 2

Gwen

With bright blue eyes, a man emerges from the shadow of the alley, caressing the pipe of his pistol as if it were a loyal dog.

Venom sneers, “You better fuck off before Mason has your fucking head.”

Blue Eyes’s lips spread into a sinister smile as if he was a kid playing with his favorite toy. “Oh, and this Mason lets you run around and rape young women?”

“Mason owns this city and everyone in it.” Venom laughs as he points to me. “Especially her, so I’d mind my fucking business if I were you.”

Blue Eyes shrugs. “You see, I would if she didn’t say no, and well-” He winks at me. “When a beautiful girl says no to a jackass like you, I can’t help myself.”

It all happens in a flash. Blue Eyes reaches for Venom’s gun, twisting his body so Venom’s head is on the sidewalk, underneath Blue Eyes’s knee, and his arm bent back so that Blue Eyes could easily break his arm.

Underneath the streetlight, I can see his slick back, dirty blonde hair, with a rogue strand dancing above his right eye, which is brown. I want to tuck that strand back so it can spring back and have a reason to touch him again. His blue eyes are vibrant and deep like the ocean, and he has swirls of intricate black tattoos peeking out of his button-up and up his neck. I swallow as my eyes land on the vein popping on the forearm that stretches to put pressure on Venom’s shoulder blade.

When he looks up at me, there is a sparkle in his eye, and his lips are in an easygoing smile. “Normally, I’d break your arm, but since you were bothering the lady, I think it’s only right that it is her choice what we do with you.”

I twist my lips as if I am in deep thought because the idea of Blue Eyes breaking Venom’s arm for me makes my panties wet. “Well, before you break anything in my honor, how about you tell me your name?” I purr, leaning forward to his eye level. Venom struggles beneath him, a slew of curses leaving his lips.

He brandishes a bright smile, rolling his name off his tongue like we are meeting in line at a coffee shop. “Nikolai Petrov, pleasure.”

“Nikolai? Petrov?” Venom whimpers.

“In the flesh.” Nikolai's cocky smile flashes in my direction with a flourish.

“Petrov, wait, I-I-” Venom begins to beg, but Nikolai clicks his tongue, silencing him.

“No. No begging now.” Nikolai twists his arm, causing Venom to yelp, but he brings his eyes back to me. “Our handsy friend is getting a little impatient…”

“Gwen. I would shake your hand, but they seem full right now.” I smile, flipping my curls over my shoulder, the broken bottle still swinging between my fingertips.

“Well, Gwen.” Fuck, I love the way he pours over my name. “What would you like me to do with the handsy guy here?”

“Hmmm, you see, a broken arm can heal.”

“Continue.” Nikolai nods, intrigue flashing across his eyes as a devilish smile spreads.

“And I think this fucker needs a permanent reminder to keep his hands to himself.” I purse my lips as if contemplating before looking down into Venom’s eyes. “Don’t ya’ think, Venny?”

“Gwen, I swear to God-”

“Threaten her, and I will take your tongue as a souvenir,” Nikolai growls, and heat rushes straight to my core. “Continue, love.”

“Thank you.” I beam. “I vote for a pinky finger, not too significant, but he’ll miss it.”

“I like the way you think, Kotik.” Nikolai pulls a knife out of his back pocket, flipping it open. He looks at the hand he is currently twisting away from Venom’s body, pressing the knife to the base of his pinky. He looks down at Venom with a nasty grin. “This may hurt a tad bit, mate.”

The alleyway fills with the screams of Venom, and I think I am in love with a psycho.

Venom shakes in the fetal position, vibrating from the pain as he holds his bleeding hand. Nikolai looks at me with a mischievous smile, with the pinky in his hand. “For you, Kotik.”

“How romantic,” I deadpan. “Normally, men get me diamonds and dinner first.”

Nikolai throws the pinky away as far from Venom as possible. “Those men are carbon copies of each other. At least you will remember my name,” he teases.

A smirk dances on my face. I cross my right arm under my chest and placing an inquisitive finger on my chin. “I’m sorry, what’s your name again?”

He laughs in his low voice as he grabs my hand, kisses it, and whispers, “My name is yours if you want it to be.”

My cheeks heat up, and electricity sparks where his lips connect with my skin. There is no reason for one man to be so sexy and smooth with eyes that make me so weak in the knees. The smirk he gives me while he looks at me through his eyelashes will end me.

“Jeez, you’re too much of a charmer for your own good.”

The laughter that rumbles through his chest causes me to catch my breath, wishing to hear the sound again and again. “And you are too beautiful for your own good. A girl like you should be throwing the tips, not dancing for them.”

I pop my hip to the right, my nails wrapping around my hip. “What? You didn’t like my dancing?”

Nikolai’s eyes heat, his tongue poking out to brush over his lower lip before poking his inner left cheek and looking away.

“Oh my God, do you think I am a bad dancer?”

Nikolai’s hand loops around my waist, his hand spreading over my lower back, pulling me into his chest. The motion startles me and I drop the beer bottle. The scent of leather and fresh rain invades my senses. His eyes flutter to my lips, the boyish smirk spreading across his lips before he makes eye contact with my breathless body. “No, my love, I love your dancing.” His voice lowers. “I just would rather you do it in private for me.”

I can’t breathe. I can’t think, not with Nikolai this close, and for the first time since the fourth grade, I fucking stutter. “W-well, i-if you wanted a d-dance. All you had to do was ask.” Jesus. Fuck. Get it together, Gwendolyn.

His nose grazes mine. “Dance for me.”

“When?” He slides his phone into my hand.

“Tomorrow. Let me take you out and show you the lifestyle you’re supposed to be living.” My mouth parts mindlessly, and I gather all the shallow breaths I possibly can as I type my number into his phone.

“Pick me up at 8,” I say. Nikolai lets me go, and I immediately feel the chill of the night consume me.

He winks at me, not even checking if I gave him my real number, the cocky bastard.

Chapter 3

NIKOLAI

Gwen, my little hellcat, stands in a thin, skin-tight black dress adorned with sparkles in the bay window of the little two-bedroom house she and her grandmother Rose live in.

I am supposed to be here at 8, but I can’t help myself from getting here early when all I could think about was her ass in that sparkly emerald green lingerie set with fishnets and neck-breaking heels.

She looked magnificent as she stood in an alley, with a cracked beer bottle in her hand and mouth too sharp for her own good.

If she talked to me the way she spoke to half of the guys in that club, I’d have her writhing over my knee, her perfect bottom stained with my handprint as she begged for me to fill that filthy mouth of hers with my cock. I smile at the image of her big hazel eyes, almost brimming with tears, so turned on and frustrated with me that she curses my name, and I, in turn, punish her for it.

I bet she’s a brat. Fuck. I adjust myself in my slacks as I stare at her, continuing to mess with her curly hair. She keeps fluffing her black curls, spilling down her back in spirals. They are more airy and free than they were at the club, swaying along her spine as she smiles at herself in the mirror. I keep flexing my hand in and out, waiting to thread my fingers in her hair and pull her into me.

I’ve wanted to run my hands along the curve of her waist, grip her hips, and make her feel what she has done to me since I saw her dancing. She had every man’s eyes on her. Every man was fixing their cocks in their pants. Every man under her siren song, like the little minx she is.

She could be a modern-day Cleopatra, have men killing themselves just for a moment in her presence, and I could be her Caesar, but then I heard our modern-day Cleo speak, and she spoke like a warrior.

Men fawned over her, and she kept them where they belonged, kissing at her feet, so of course, when I saw that fucker try to rape her, I took his pinky. Fuck, I would have taken his life if she asked, but Gwen is a merciful queen.

I look at the time again: 7:55, which is early but a respectable early. I slide out of my Rolls Royce, adjust my suit jacket, and grab the bouquet of pink roses because Gwen texted me that I better not be fucking unoriginal and bring red. Bringing pink was a minor submission, anticipating when I had her on her knees begging for me.

I knock on the peeling white door. A pair of wide eyes and the slick smirk of an old lady greet me.

“Oh my.” She fans her face, her eyes roaming over my body as I flash my most parent-friendly smile. “You must be Nikolai.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I say, kissing Nana Rose’s hand. “And you must be Nana Rose?”

I wink at her, and a warm smile spreads on her wrinkled face. A gasp leaves her lips. “Oh.” She points at me with her other hand. “You’re good. I bet you’re a charmer.”

“Not as much as your granddaughter.” I rise, smiling as she turns her body to the side, letting me into the small living area.

“Well, she got it from me!” Nana Rose claps. “Back in the day, I was a brick house. That’s old lady talk for I was the shit.”

“I bet you were,” I laugh as Nana Rose’s slippers click past me.

“Oh, I got the pictures to prove it! But make yourself at home while I see what’s taking her so long.” I nod, looking around the living room, cast in the soft glow of an aged lamp in the corner. From down the hallway, I hear Nana Rose call out, “Gwen, that man is fine, and he is waiting! Don’t keep good-looking waiting!”

I look around, my curiosity about Gwen only growing as I take in more of her house. A pink and cream flower couch and a worn wooden coffee table adorned with colorful delicate lace doily sit in the room’s center.

I roam over to a weathered brown bookshelf peeling tan against the far wall, its shelves filled with an eclectic mix of novels and a family photo of Gwen as a child sitting on the lap of a smiling man with a salt n’ pepper mustache. I pick up the image, focusing on Gwen’s wide, toothy smile.

“Well, shoot. If I knew you were going to go snooping, I would have told Nana to leave you outside.” Gwen’s snort breaks me out of the trance of the photo.

I return the frame and remark, “Consequences for keeping me waiting.” When I turn around, her hazel eyes are hooded, her pink lips are glossed and slightly apart in a smile, and her hands are holding a small clutch in front of her.

She whispers, “Are there always consequences with you?”

Nana Rose comes back in, a slight squeal leaving her lips. “You brought flowers!” I hand them to Nana Rose as Gwen peeks at the bouquet with a smug smile.

“Pink?” Gwen questions.

“You said no red,” I counter.

“And they are beautiful!” Nana Rose smacks Gwen’s arm, narrowing her eyes at her before smiling at me. “I am going to put these in water.”

As Nana Rose walks away, Gwen steps forward. The scent of coconuts and jasmine invades my senses. I swallow dryly, my eyes roaming over her now that she is in front of me. “Are you going to answer my question?” I arch my eyebrow, looking down at her. “You said that your snooping was the consequence for keeping you waiting, so I asked, are there always consequences with you?”

“Only when earned.” I wink. She gives me a mischievous smirk, taking another step forward.

“Did I earn one?” she whispers breathlessly.

“I don’t know, can you follow directions?” Gwen raises an eyebrow, challenging me.

“ You can follow directions; thank you for the pink roses.” Her lips pop on the letter p in pink as she wiggles her eyebrows.

“I follow directions very well,” I purr, pushing a curl behind her ear, watching the blush rise to her cheeks. “That’s why I rarely have consequences, but the question was: can you follow directions?”

She shrugs, giving me her faux innocent eyes. “Depends on the direction.” Oh, so my little hell cat wants to play a game of chicken.

I lick my lips. “Spin for me.”

“What?” Her eyes widen, and she looks around the room.

“You said you would dance for me privately.” I lean over to whisper in her ear, “So do it.”

“I am not dancing for you with my nana in the other room.” Her voice and eyes are firm as she pushes back, but when she places her right hand on her hip, my smugness reappears.

“I am not asking for my dance yet.” I bend over so I am at eye-level with the scowl she dawns on her lips. “Just a taste, or don’t tell me,” I almost brush my lips against hers, whispering, “you’re a brat who can’t take directions.”

Gwen’s nostrils flare, but her eyes dart to the doorway her grandmother walked down in excitement. She takes a small breath, and I lean back, watching as she crosses one of her strappy black heels in front of the other and quickly turns. When she looks at me again, she pulls her lips into a smug grin. “There. Are you happy?”

“No.” Her brows furrow, but before she can protest, I whisper, “Slower.”

“Nikolai!” she huffs.

“Call me Nik.” I take a step back to see her whole body easily. “And I said slower.”

Gwen bites her lip nervously, looking at the doorway again, but when her eyes land on me, they sparkle with determination. She crosses her heel over the other again, turning slowly, and I smirk, admiring how beautiful she looks tonight.

She’s stunning in that tight strapless sparkle long dress, the slight slit in the back teasing at what lies beneath. Her big black curls tumble down her back, framing her face in a way that makes me want to mess them up. Those pink glossy lips, smoky eyes—everything about her is intoxicating.

Her eyes cautiously make contact with mine again, and she crosses her arms behind her back, accentuating her chest, as she sways from side to side. “So?”

“Fuck, you are gorgeous, Kotik.” She blushes, looking away from me. I lean in again, my breath fluttering over the shell of her ear. “Tonight is going to be fun.” Read Bratva King’s Secret Twins Now Free With Kindle Unlimited and available on Amazon and Paperback.