Bratva Beauty
Sabine Barclay
(The Ivankov Brotherhood, #4)
Published by: Oliver Heber Books
Publication date: November 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance
She can pretend not to notice…
They say I’m the best looking in my family. I couldn’t care less.
But her…She takes my breath away.
Not everyone sees her the way I do. That’s fine by me because she’s mine.
I pity those who think they can come between us.
I won’t stop until she’s at my side. Mine to touch. Mine to love. Mine to push to her limits then bring her back.
She’s my everything. She’s my soulmate.
Bratva Beauty is an interconnecting, standalone Dark Mafia Romance with a HEA and no cliffhanger. It contains extra-steamy scenes that will make your toes curl and your granny blush. This is book four in The Ivankov Brotherhood, a six-book series that’ll keep you warm at night.
Sumiko
I head back to my office and leave the door open. That’s not entirely unusual, but I hope Pasha sees it. It’s an invitation to him more than it is anyone else. When I get to my desk, I pull my phone out and pull up my web browser. I don’t know who that man was, but I’m guessing Greg’s father. I thought Greg owned the company. He’s the CEO.
Balandin: Russian surname
Meaning: A small crater on the moon.
That’s not what I expected when I search their name. Not that it’s Russian or its meaning. Greg has no accent, so I never guessed he spoke another language. Is it a coincidence that Pasha and his family interviewed this firm? Do they like to keep their business within the Russian community? I don’t know that we have any other Russian clients. This isn’t a large company, and there are only ten accountants on staff. Even if I’m not working with a client, I know about most of them. Did I miss something? Why does it matter?
A knock makes me look up. I smile at Pasha, and he comes in. He shuts the door behind him, and I’m out of my seat. I’m back in his arms, and it feels like I arrived home after a long day. It’s comfortable and familiar already. It’s where I want to be.
“Malyshka, I didn’t know your firm—the owner of your firm—was Russian. Turns out he’s my dad’s childhood friend. Only Christina knew the owner was Russian.”
“You like to keep your business within the Russian community. I thought you might.”
“We do. It’s not that we think your company needs our support, but we like to support other Russians.”
“I can understand. My parents feel the same way about shopping at Japanese owned stores. There aren’t too many Brazilian owned businesses near us, but they look for them. Maybe it’s an immigrant thing.”
“I suppose so.”
“I have to work, Pasha. But you still—”
I glance toward the door before meeting Pasha’s gaze once more.
“I still owe you your spanking.”
“You know I’m not a little, right? I don’t even know where that came from.”
“I know, and I’m not a Dom. I may like to be in control, but that’s not the type of relationship I want with you, malyshka.”
“I think between that and you calling me baby girl, it just seemed to fit.”
“Seemed?”
“Seems, Daddy.”
I try it out when we’re not in the middle of having sex, and it still feels foreign, but not wrong. Heat flares in his eyes before he devours me. His tongue thrusts into my mouth, and I don’t stifle my moan. We’re fumbling with each other’s clothes, the air of secrecy and discovery heightening our excitement.
“I’m going to fvck you, malyshka. And this time I will mark you. You are mine.”
“And you’re mine.”
“I am.”
We abandon each other’s clothes and tug at our own. I look back at my desk and notice my thong on the floor beside it. Holy fvck. Did Greg see that? I don’t think so. I didn’t notice Pasha dropped it there. I didn’t even notice I sat through the entire meeting with no panties.
Pasha lifts me off my feet and carries me to one of the chairs in front of my desk. It’s a tight fit, but we manage as I straddle him. I might be on top, but he guides me as I rise and fall on his cock. More like a fvcking Coke bottle. I’ve seen enough dicks in real life and in movies to know he’s more than average.
The chair creaks as we move together, and I have a moment of doubt that we’re too heavy. That I’m too heavy. But Pasha’s let go of my hips and is moving his hands over my thighs, pressing his fingers into me before gliding them over my hips to my ass to squeeze it, then to my waist. His fingers trail over my belly.
“Fvck, malyshka. Every inch of you is temptation. I want to strip you and kiss all of you. I want to mark all of you as mine.”
“Tonight?”
“Every fvcking night.”
He must be exaggerating. I look into his eyes, and he’s revealing his feelings to me. There’s earnestness there, and now I think he might mean that.
“I told you I’m all in, Sumiko.”
Sabine Barclay, a nom de plume also writing Historical Romance as Celeste Barclay, lives near the Southern California coast with her husband and sons. Growing up in the Midwest, Sabine enjoyed spending as much time in and on the water as she could. Now she lives near the beach. She's an avid swimmer, a hopeful future surfer, and a former rower. Before becoming a full-time author, Sabine was a Social Studies and English teacher. She holds degrees in International Affairs (BA), Secondary Social Science (MAT), and Political Management (MPS). She channels that knowledge into creating engrossing contemporary romances that will make your toes curl and your granny blush.
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