Page 28 of The Bratva’s Arranged Virgin Bride (Fokin Bratva #8)

The week leading up to the first art sale went by in a flash.

I had thought I enjoyed working with Nat the first time we did this scheme together, but now it was a thousand times better.

While I had little hope for the success of the place based on what a mess it was after the break-in, she really worked her magic.

In Milan, she had been tentative, deferring to me since I was the one who knew the ropes. Now, she was in her element, getting things done faster than I could have imagined, bossing everyone around, including me.

It was hot.

And this time, it was so much better because as much as I wanted her then, now she was mine. In Milan, I could barely bring myself to kiss the enemy Bratva princess for fear of retribution, but now we were all over each other at the end of each day. Fully in sync. Talk about a bonus.

All the problems with both of our families faded into the background.

Still there, but faint and quiet. Arkadi continued to ignore me, and Nat’s uncles and cousins didn’t seem to be plotting my demise, if my intel was correct.

Everything was going so well, and I was in such a good mood, that I even put some of my plans to infiltrate a few of their businesses on hold.

Best of all, I had managed to convince Vissarion that Nat actually was my employee and not one special to me.

I was just looking for an opportunity to punch him that night, which he believed, because he knew me well enough to know I’d never miss out on a shot at his weathered face.

Once he was assured that everything was under control and saw with his own eyes how well the place was coming together, he stayed away.

With Nat on board, it became a little more high-profile than I would have liked.

With her name and the fledgling reputation in the art world that she had begun to make for herself, important, and more importantly, rich, people were more curious than ever about our opening night event.

The buzz was everywhere. Even a few celebrities shouted to me at the club that they couldn’t wait.

This shouldn’t have been ideal, but with Vissarion set up to take the fall at the end of it, I decided, why not have a few high-profile victims in the mix?

The night of the opening finally arrived, and when Nat walked down the stairs where I impatiently waited, my mouth dropped open in stunned silence. She was a vision of fine art herself in a long, red, and gold beaded dress that clung to every rich curve of her body.

“I always think you’re beautiful,” I told her, pulling her close. “But tonight, you’re on fire.”

“I figured I better make a statement for once,” she said begrudgingly.

“Do you think we can be late?” I asked, sliding my hand to the zipper at the back.

Laughing, she swatted my hand away. “You look pretty amazing yourself, and no, we can’t be late, but believe me, I’ll be happy to get out of this dress later.”

“I’ll be more than happy to help you with that.”

She was much more comfortable in jeans or a simple sundress, but she blushed with happiness at my compliments.

I loved seeing it there on her face, as well as pride, when we arrived to find a line already waiting to get in. We exchanged a glance. Neither of us had expected anything even remotely that successful. But would anything actually sell?

There was no need to worry. Once the champagne was flowing and the string quartet was strumming in the background, people were eager to get their hands on our masterpieces.

Nat was truly on fire. I loved watching her, how knowledgeable she was, but also how ruthless she was in spinning our made-up tales to work the buyers into a frenzy.

How could I ever forget she was Bratva through and through beneath her sweet exterior?

It was incredibly hot.

The only tiny dark cloud was Vissarion showing up about halfway through, blustering around, and trying to ingratiate himself.

It was for the best that people remembered him, but I didn’t like it when he sidled up to Nat and began telling her what a great job she did, or how much she glowed under the praise.

I couldn’t exactly deck him with all those people around, and simply made up an excuse that someone had questions for her about our most expensive painting to get her out of his way. Then I told him to get lost.

“She’s very talented. I can see why you keep her around,” he said, grabbing a glass of champagne from a passing server. Making no move to get lost. “That’s quite a gown she’s wearing. You must be paying her a fortune.”

“It’s probably rented. But she’s being well compensated,” I said through gritted teeth.

“Is she?” he asked. “Not another partner? Without speaking to me about it?”

I led him through to the back, where I shoved him toward the exit. “She’s an employee, nothing more. Now get lost before you do something stupid and raise suspicions.”

“But I was going to put a bid on one of the auction items to lift the price,” he said, thinking this was a brilliant idea.

“See, something stupid like that. We don’t need any phony bids; the prices are soaring. Who’s done this a dozen times, me or you? Just go and wait until I send you the final numbers tomorrow morning. You’ll be satisfied.”

“I hope so,” he grumbled, but deferred to my expertise and finally got the hell out.

Now, I could enjoy watching my wife shine in peace.

By the end of the night, almost every painting and pottery piece had sold.

It was Nat’s brilliant idea to have the pottery made and “certified” as authentic by a professor who owed one of her uncles money.

The live auction was a roaring success, with the crowd falling over themselves to bid for the few finest pieces we set aside.

“Oh my God, I wish people still used cash,” she said once the doors were locked and we counted up the final tally. “We could roll naked in it.”

“Cash is disgustingly filthy,” I said, then winked at her. “But I’m ready to get naked whenever you are.”

We had pulled the curtains, and the gallery was lit by a few antique lamps that lent a cozy glow. She grinned down at our numbers, and goosebumps actually rose on her arms.

“Hey,” I said, reaching to smooth them down with my fingertips. “I’m getting a little jealous. Of money.”

“Your first and only love,” she quipped, rolling her eyes.

Maybe that had been true once, but no longer. I was completely besotted by Nat in that moment, in that glittering dress, I couldn’t wait to peel off of her. She sighed, suddenly looking melancholy.

“What?” I asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t feel guilty, because everything was so good, but… that’s the thing. It was all really good. Why do people need fantastical backstories and for things to be authenticated in order to appreciate it?”

I got where she was going. Some of the stories we made up were pretty farfetched, especially since we couldn’t actually produce the artists or risk blowing everything.

None of the college kids who did our paintings knew what we were doing, probably assuming we were decorators filling up hotel rooms with our work.

So far, we had created a paraplegic shut-in who had so much social anxiety that she never left her tiny flat in London.

Another of our brilliant artists was so damaged that he threw himself off a bridge, leaving behind a note leading to a storage unit crammed with his tortured visions.

For the next show, we planned on featuring someone so deep in hiding from his corrupt government that he couldn’t even sign his paintings with anything other than a cryptic symbol.

“It’s just the way it is,” I sighed. “If it makes you feel any better, you can think of it as selling the story as well as the art.”

She grinned, all her wistfulness dissipating. The gleam was back in her eyes. “I make up some kickass stories, don’t I?”

“Everyone was riveted,” I said, leaning closer and pushing aside the adding machine between us on the counter. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you.”

“Hey, I thought you were going to take something else off me,” she said, leaning across the counter so our lips were almost touching. “I can’t wait to get out of this dress.”

“I’m not going to make you wait.” With my hand already tangling in her intricate updo, I brought her mouth to mine while I rounded the counter.

In seconds, our bodies collided. Her hair tumbled down in a silky mass around her shoulders as I slid the zipper down, freeing all the creamy skin of her back. Smoothing my palm beneath the glittery fabric, I gripped her lush ass cheeks.

With a gasp, she wrapped her arms around my neck, grinding against the stiff length of my cock, already hard as a rock for her. Her tongue met mine with the sweet taste of champagne. I was becoming crazed with desire for her. We never would have made it home.

The dress wasn’t rented like I’d assured Vissarion, but I ripped the straps in my haste to see every inch of Nat’s body. When it puddled to the floor around her ankles, she stepped out of it and kicked it aside, like a queen. My queen.

With a flick of my wrist, her bra was off, and I launched myself at her ripe tits, rolling her pink nipples between my lips, nipping at her until she squealed.

She wrapped her leg around my hip, rubbing her hot little pussy against my cock.

I backed her up against the counter, never taking my mouth from the puckered buds of her nipples.

Lifting her up, I began kissing my way down as soon as she was planted on the smooth marble counter.

She leaned back, moaning when I spread her legs wide and tore away the soaked scrap of fabric keeping me from her wet heat. She clamped her thighs around my head as I lapped up her juices, circling my tongue around her swollen clit and diving deep into her dripping cunt.

“Fuck, you’re delicious,” I groaned, licking her until she was panting.

She pushed hard against my mouth, begging me for more.

“Deeper, harder,” she said, driving me even wilder.

I loved hearing her beg for me, for my cock. It was a rare treat, and I wanted it now. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you, little girl.”

“Put your cock in me,” she said instantly, on the verge of tears as I slid my tongue over her aching clit again and again. Dragging it away before she could come. “Ram, your big cock in me so hard I scream. Oh God, Kolya, please.”

I finally gave her the release she needed, pushing my fingers into her tight hole as she spasmed. She was naked and trembling, wet and ready, and I still had my damn pants on.

Not for long. As soon as my cock was free, she grabbed it, stroking fiercely, making feral noises that made me almost shoot all over her hand.

“Let me suck you,” she pleaded, but I was already pulling her body close to me.

I needed her pussy, needed to fill her up and hear her scream again. “Later,” I growled. She could make me stiff with just a glance. “Right now, I’m going to give you what you begged for. Every inch in your hot little pussy.”

I was breathing hard, like a racehorse at the end of the track, but I eased my fingers inside her again, watching her eyes roll back as I teased her clit with my thumb. Her hips bucked, her legs tightened around me, drawing me closer. My cock pulsed.

“Hurry, Kolya,” she pleaded.

“Tell me what I want to hear,” I said, my fingers pausing.

Every inch of my body was straining toward her. I was near madness as I watched her blue eyes darken to the color of a storm, her face flushed with anger under the intense need. Then I pushed my fingers into her, and there was only need.

“I belong to you,” she gasped. “My body belongs to you. Please, just get your cock in me, now .”

I roared, slamming deep and hard. She screamed, her slick channel spasming around me as another orgasm wracked her. As much as I wanted to fuck her for hours, I was gone. In truth, my body belonged to her, because I had zero control anymore.

Grabbing the back of her neck, I dragged her mouth to mine as I shot my seed inside her like a firehose, as her pussy strangled my cock with every thrust. She held on, I held on, and before I knew it, we were in a heap on the floor.

Her body was pinned under mine, her legs still locked around my hips. Her hair stuck to her face, and mine and our hearts threatened to break our ribcages. Neither of us could breathe or speak, and we just lay there for a moment.

“More,” she whispered, laughing softly, only half joking.

I rolled off of her. “You’ll get more, don’t worry. But at home.” I leaned up on my elbow to look down at her pretty, rosy face. The wildness was receding, replaced with tenderness. I stroked her cheek. “I have a request,” I said.

“Not a command?”

“No, not a command. But I think you should move in with me. No more guest room.”

We’d been getting along like an actual married couple, at least while she wasn’t consumed by her work at the gallery. But she still went to her room every night. I was over it.

“Okay,” she said, smiling at me, leaning up for a kiss.

I gave it to her, as happy as I might have ever been.