Page 15 of Sexting My Bratva Boss (Mafia Silver Foxes #1)
“Your friend can’t help you,” he scoffs, turning to face me.
His hair falls into his eyes, still wild with anger and excitement.
“That money, Audrey. A stupid bitch like you won’t be able to scrape up that much, so I’m going to try another way.
Do you really think he believes you’re worth something, ” he taunts, mimicking the words I said the night we fought in my apartment.
“Would he pay for you, Audrey? Buy you back like a piece of property?”
He jerks me closer to him, the movement making me cry out at the pain in my wrist.
“You slut,” he hisses. “You think I don’t know what you’ve been doing with him? You’ll get on your knees for anyone, won’t you?”
My heart is pounding so hard I think I might pass out.
Before Sal can say anything else, a fist comes out of nowhere and catches him in the jaw so hard he falls against the brick building.
“ Fuck!”
The sounds of a fight draw my attention, and suddenly Lev is there, taking out Sal’s two goons easily with a baton.
But it’s not just Lev.
Konstantin steps into view, his face impassive as he stares at Sal, half-crumpled against the wall. The brick has scraped away a patch of skin on his face and he’s already bleeding.
Wordlessly, Konstantin reaches out and grabs Sal by the hair. Sal screams, stumbling into the Bratva leader.
Seeing the two of them so close is shocking. Konstantin makes Sal look like a sack of meat, inelegant and coarse as he curses. Konstantin lands another punch, effortlessly, and a crunch sounds out.
Sal falls back, dazed. His nose is badly crooked, blood pouring down it and soaking into his shirt. Nausea makes my mouth water. I turn away, turn into Konstantin’s outstretched arm.
“ Malen'kiy volk . ”
“A fuggin’ ped name,” Sal slurs through the blood. “She has you whipped Martynov. She’s not worth it.” He’s swaying on his feet but still facing Konstantin—braver than I expected.
The crunch of gravel signifies Lev’s arrival; he stands just behind and to the side of us, eyes on Sal. When I glance back, I see two bodies on the ground and blood soaking into the asphalt and stone.
Sal straightens, chin raised.
Oh, God. He’s squaring up as if ready to meet his maker. It’s both ridiculous and gut-wrenching, and before I can stop myself I ask: “Let him go, please. He’s not worth it.”
Konstantin’s body is rigid against me as I tuck myself close to his side. He doesn’t look at me or acknowledge what I’ve said, but a slow smile breaks across his face.
“Go running back to your owner, dog,” Konstantin says coldly.
Sal’s eyes narrow. He looks from Konstantin to me, and then to Lev. Then he laughs.
“Damn. She really has you pussy whipped, old man.”
Konstantin’s hand flexes, and for a moment I think he’ll change his mind. But Sal stumbles off down the alley, breaking into a run, and disappears around the corner.
A large arm wraps me closer.
I bury my face in Konstantin’s wool jacket, pretending that the itchy fabric is what’s making my eyes water.
“Can we go home?” I whisper.
He gently grips my chin and makes me look at him. His eyes are serious, brows furrowed. “Will you stay there? If I take you home?”
Knowing that I’m willingly sealing my fate, to be his and only his, I nod.
The wool coat lays across an armchair, waiting for Kashmere to take care of it—tomorrow.
Konstantin sent her home with a short text when we returned to the house, Lev parking her car in the drive and then disappearing into the tree line nearby.
“It was my idea,” I insist, following Konstantin upstairs. “She didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Saving everyone today, aren’t you?” he grunts out, eyes flashing as he strips off his tie and shirt.
The sight of his bare chest, sprinkled with dark hair and ridged with muscle, makes my gut clench.
“I should have killed that boy,” he scoffs.
“Should have let Sartorre find his body with the others.”
Guilt floods through me.
He’s right; things with Sal could’ve ended right there. I bite my lip, keeping the secret, because they wouldn’t really have ended. I still owe money, and someone would come for it, whether Sal was breathing or not.
Konstantin takes my hips, maneuvering me into the master bath. I don’t say anything as he strips off my dress, letting it pool to the floor. There are flecks of Sal’s blood on his throat and I stare at it as he bares me to the already-warming air, the shower running.
“Get in.”
I obey. I don’t think I could disobey now if I wanted to.
In the shower, I let the water run over my face, then move forward and let it soak into my hair. Eyes closed, I feel Konstantin step in behind me. His bare body brushes against my skin, making it goosepimple even in the warm water. He slips an arm around my waist.
“Will you listen now, and stay here?” Dipping his head lower, he runs his lips up my neck. “I can’t protect you if you’re always running, Audrey.”
I make a sound of agreement, but then open my eyes, remembering this morning’s frustration. “I’m… bored here, Konstantin.” Turning, I try to focus on keeping eye contact.
And not looking at the very obvious distraction now pressing insistently against my thigh…
“Mmm, I’m not keeping you occupied enough, am I?”
His hand delves down, between my thighs, seeking out the beginnings of how badly I want him. I widen my stance, bracing my hands against his shoulders and giving him access.
“No,” I continue, somewhat mindlessly as his thumb ghosts over my clit. “I’m serious, I need something to take up my time now that I’m not working.” Shooing his hand away in annoyance, I add, “If you want.. that, let’s just do it, please. Today was a lot.”
I try to pull him closer with a hand on the back of his neck. While shower sex is definitely not my thing, a man like Konstantin—massive, muscled, and steady as a rock—gives me a newfound confidence in climbing onto his hips. Before I can boost myself up, he holds me firmly by the hips.
“No, no, malen'kiy volk . There’s no rushing this.”
Whining half in protest and half from the way my pussy clenches when he squeezes my ass, I try to wriggle away. But Konstantin’s grip only tightens, and he gets on his knees, the spray from the water glistening in his silver hair.
I want to protest, but he presses his mouth to my clit, kisses it so gently that my hips chase after him as he pulls away.
“Haven’t you heard,” he murmurs, that slow smirk shooting a thrill to my core, “that women who orgasm are more likely to conceive?”
The statement surprises me enough that I blurt out, “I’m not sure that’s true.”
Konstantin chuckles, hooking my knee over his shoulder and pulling me closer roughly. “We’ll have to find out.” One slow, long lick drags a moan out of me. “I’m planning on making you come over, and over, and over. As many times as it takes, Audrey.”
One hand against the wall and the other in his hair, I just can’t find it in me to put up a fight.