Silken Chains (Bond by Morozov Bratva Book 1) (Bond by Morozov Bratva Series)

GOVNO.

She drives me mad.

The sunlight blasting in from behind me turns her nightgown into a damn X-ray, showcasing every curve. Her skin glows against that stark white, making it hard to focus on anything else.

Fucking great.

Because she’s got my cock twitching and throbbing with a mind of its own.

Fucking her on this vintage table is all I can think about. I imagine grabbing her roughly and throwing her onto the table, teasing and taunting her sweet pink cunt mercilessly and watching her squirming beneath me with need. And when she begs for my cock, I would give it to her hard and fast. Hear her crying out my name.

Blyad! How has she got me all twisted up like this?

“You?” She’s in shock, her eyes wide as she takes in the room, the books, and then me.

“Yes. Me.” I nod, watching the storm brewing in Laura’s eyes.

How, very interesting.

Then, like a flash, she’s up and at me. She leans across the desk, her face fucking gorgeous. Her eyes are blazing, the kind of fury you don’t forget.

“What is WRONG with you?!” She’s not just angry; she’s nuclear.

I casually snuff out my cigar, but before I can even flick the ash, a book flies off the desk, heading straight for my face. Reflexes kick in; I catch it… barely.

Shit, she’s got a temper on her.

“You. you think this is funny?” Her voice hits a snag, choked up in the middle—she’s holding tears from streaming down her face.

Fuck. She’s beautiful when she’s all kinds of mad.

I raise an eyebrow. “Well… a little.” Can’t help my honesty.

Rage shakes her. “You kidnapped me! You… you…”

“Yep, that was me.” Watching her, I’m fascinated by her meltdown. It’s like witnessing a storm up close.

She bites her lip so hard I see red. Not a figure of speech; there’s actual blood. Nervous habit or not, a rush of something I can’t quite name courses through me.

Rising from my seat, I approach her, my movements deliberate and casting my shadow right over her.

She halts, eyes locked on mine. I can see panic rippling through her.

“Relax, hurting you isn’t on my agenda, kiska.” I state clearly.

Laura’s worry makes sense, but she’s exactly who I need for this.

Her shoulders drop a notch, easing up, but her eyes stay sharp, watching me like a hawk.

Fuck, I’ve never craved anything as intensely as I do now. My knuckles turn white from the pressure of my grip, desire pulsing through my veins like a fever.

“You’re bleeding.” I grab her chin gently yet firmly, making sure she’s looking right at me. There’s a moment, right before I kiss her, where I can practically hear her heart racing. And then I do—kiss her, I mean. It’s soft, but there’s a taste of blood. Her blood. And damn, if it doesn’t light a fire in me.

She doesn’t push me away.

Instead, there’s this hesitation, like she’s fighting with herself about how to feel.

It’s a kiss that’s supposed to show her I’m in charge, but the taste of her, that hint of blood, throws me off my game.

And then, just as I’m about to deepen the kiss, to really stake my claim, she fucking bites me. Hard.

I jerk back, more out of surprise than pain. My tongue darts out, tasting my own blood now.

Laura’s eyes are wide, her chest heaving. She looks like she can’t quite believe what she just did.

Neither can I.

A slow, wicked grin spreads across my face. “Well, well, kotyonok. Looks like this kitten has claws.”

She glares at me, defiant even now. “I’m not your fucking kitten.”

I laugh, deep and throaty. God, she’s a feisty one. It only makes me want her more.

“We’ll see about that,” I murmur, stepping closer.

She backs up, but there’s nowhere to go. I’ve got her cornered, trapped between me and the wall.

I lean in, my lips brushing her ear. “You know, I’ve always liked a challenge.”

She shivers, and I can practically feel the goosebumps rising on her skin. “Fuck you,” she whispers, but there’s no heat behind it.

“Mmm, maybe later,” I tease, nipping at her earlobe. “If you’re a good girl.”

She makes a noise somewhere between a gasp and a growl, and it shoots straight to my cock.

I pull back just enough to look her in the eye. “But for now, we have business to discuss.”

I trace my thumb over her lower lip, smearing the blood there. Hers and mine.

“You’re going to help me, Laura,” I say, my voice low and commanding. “And in return, I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”

Her eyes search mine, looking for the catch. “And what’s that?”

I smile, slow and dangerous. “Me, of course.”

She rolls her eyes, a scoff escaping her lips. “You know, you could’ve just asked me nicely. Ever heard of texting?” Her hands press against my chest, a feeble attempt to push me away.

But there’s a flicker in her gaze, a hint of desire that she can’t quite hide. It’s gone in an instant, replaced by a scowl.

“Why… why kidnap me?” The word slips from her, laced with anger yet tinged with curiosity.

“Well…” I hesitate, knowing the dangerous truth that she may have other enemies lurking in the shadows. But now is not the time to reveal it. Not yet. There’s a puzzle from last night that demands solving first.

Her next words throw me for a loop, totally unexpected.

“Wait… no way, but… but are you seriously telling me you’re head over heels for me?” The words tumble out of her mouth before she can stop them.

I tilt my head back, eyebrows raised, biting back a laugh.

“I mean, we had an amazing night together, but did you really have to resort to kidnapping me and changing my clothes? Is this some kind of twisted joke?” she questions.

Amazing? Oh, sweet kiska, you haven’t seen anything yet.

“And… where are my clothes?” she asks, her eyes narrowing.

I shrug, nonchalant. “Gone. The maids disposed of them.”

“Gone? Why on earth would they do that?”

“Ksenia’s orders. She can’t stand anything she deems unsightly,” I explain, deadpan. “Ksenia’s tastes are… specific.”

She gives me a look like I’ve sprouted another head.

“How can you not see the madness in this? Kidnapping me, dressing me up like some doll in an overly plush robe?” Her voice rises in bafflement.

Okay, I have to admit, from her perspective, this must sound batshit crazy. But fuck, it’s amusing watching her try to process it all.

I can’t look away from her; she’s fucking gorgeous. The way her body fills out that robe consumes my mind with thoughts of fucking her raw, pounding into her until she screams my name. I want to toss her onto the sofa and leave bruises on her skin as I ravage her until she begs for mercy. I can’t stop imagining all the ways I could make her moan and writhe beneath me, my hands gripping her hips as I thrust deep inside of her. I want to spank her until she cries out in pleasure, then continue until she’s a trembling mess.

Suka, focus, man. You’re acting like you’ve never seen a woman before.

“I’m not a toy for you to play with,” she hisses through clenched teeth.

I smirk, tracing a finger along her jawline. “No, you’re not. You’re so much more than that.”

She shivers under my touch, her skin flushing pink. “What… what do you want from me?”

“Sit down, Laura,” I say, my voice low but firm.

“Make me,” she challenges, tempting me even more.

My cock throbs in response as I fight to calm myself down and regain control over my primal urges.

My lips hover just inches from hers, and I can sense the fear and desire emanating from her in waves. My voice drops into a low growl as I whisper, “If you keep up that attitude, you’ll get a nice pussy-spanking kiska.” The thought alone makes my body tremble with carnal anticipation, my hands itching to deliver the punishment she craves.

Her eyes widen in shock, but she obediently takes a seat on the sofa, knowing who’s in control here.

I smirk. This round, just like every other, belongs to me.

“Now,” I continue, trying to steer our interaction onto more even ground, “I think we can be of use to each other.”

“Use to each other, how?” Confusion laces her voice, her brows knitting together.

“Looks like you’re drowning in debt, kiska.” I point out. We lock eyes, and I say, “And I’m in need of a wife.”

I watch as she parts her lips, then clamps them shut.

Her eyelashes, long and curled, beat a frantic rhythm, mirroring the shock that’s probably ricocheting through her brain.

“Are you…? Are you fucking kidding me?” The words tumble out of her in disbelief, her eyes wide with a mix of confusion and anger. “Who’s pulling your strings for this kind of sick joke?”

“I don’t have time for jokes, kiska.” I lock eyes with her, letting the silence stretch, a muscle ticking in my jaw from the effort of keeping my cool. “Believe it or not, I can help you clear your debts, refurbish the bookstore,” I say. “Reinstate your insurance plan…”

She scoffs, her disbelief hanging thick between us. “Right, and I suppose next you’ll claim you’re some kind of billionaire mafia kingpin with a soft spot for damsels in distress?”

“Yes, but let’s get one thing straight—I don’t do ‘soft spots.’ I make deals. And right now, you’re in a prime position to strike one with me.

“Uh, you’re joking,” she blurts out, her voice shaking a bit with fear and a hint of challenge.

Then her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“Wait, so you’re telling me you are like some big mafia boss, right? And I’m supposed to be the queen of England?” she scoffs, clearly not buying it. “I don’t get what you’re playing at, but kidnapping me? You’re just asking for trouble…”

I can’t help but chuckle at her naivety. “Oh, little firecracker,” my voice is dripping with condescension, “what kind of trouble do you think a man like me fears?”

She’s visibly shaken but trying to mask it with anger. “I couldn’t care less if you’re running for president next, but seriously, just find my clothes and let me go, will you? I won’t spill the beans to anyone,” she says.

I lean in, a sly smile playing on my lips. “You think it’s that simple? Just walk out and pretend none of this ever happened? Kiska, you’re not going anywhere,” I tell her. My gaze locks on her, making it crystal clear that arguing with me isn’t an option.

Her eyes widen in horror, the realization dawning on her. “But… my friends, they’ll notice I’m missing. They’ll call the cops.”

I arch an eyebrow, amused. “And you think the police will come looking for you?” My smirk widens. “Kiska, you don’t even know what you’re up against.”

“I… I…” Laura starts, her voice wavering.

I don’t give her the chance. My gaze fixed firmly on hers, I cut in sharply, “No ‘Is,’ Laura. It’s simple. If you value your one and only friend, Serena Flores, and her little family,” I settle onto the leather sofa in front of her, leaning forward slightly, “you’ll do what I ask you to do.”

Blyad!

It feels weird, twisting my gut, using her best friend as leverage. I know it’s a dirty move, a low blow, but it’s what I’ve got to do to make this happen.

She opens her mouth, then closes it, the fight draining out of her. I’ve hit a nerve.

“See, Laura, you’re in a much deeper mess than you realize,” I say, my tone softening just a fraction. “But I’m offering you a way out. A deal.”

She’s clueless, sitting there with those wide, innocent eyes, not realizing the mess she’s almost stepped into. Last night, someone else was prowling around her apartment, someone not us. If I hadn’t shown up when I did, she would’ve been snatched up before she even knew what hit her. The guy bolted the second he saw my men, slipping away like a shadow. Clearly a pro, the way he vanished into thin air.

But who the fuck sent that guy?

I feel a knot of confusion in my gut. There’s something about Laura that doesn’t add up.

And I have a feeling she doesn’t know anything about it.

“What kind of deal?” She swallows hard, her eyes darting around the room, seeking an escape that doesn’t exist.

I stop my hand right before touching her face, close but not quite there. She tries to pull away, even tries to hit my hand away, but I grab her wrist before she can.

“Listen closely.” I keep my voice steady. “You’ve got debt. I need a wife for a year.” I look at her straight, making sure she gets it.

“Marry me for one year, and all your debt goes away. Simple as that.”