The Petrov Brothers Read online

  Violet. My tiny kitten. So fucking perfect. So fucking beautiful. A temptress I’m willing to fucking risk everything for? I sag down onto the mattress beside her. The urge to hold her is so strong I grit my teeth and damn near sit on my hands to stop myself from doing so. Then, as if the universe is testing my control, Violet rolls over, snuggling into my side.

  I press my nose into her hair. She smells like me, and roses, fucking roses. My mouth waters over roses, and I don’t fucking understand this... her, me, what the plan is. I don’t fucking get it but while I have her in my arms, I’m going to relish in her touch. I’m going to fucking hold her until I can’t anymore, until the morning light enters the windows.

  “Fuck, Kitten, what am I going to do with you?”

  7

  Violet

  I’m warm. Overly warm. So warm it feels like the sun is beating down on me. I want to lean into the warmth, reach out and touch it. I groan into the soft sheets beneath my hands. Soft sheets? I don’t know what it is yet, but something feels off... like I’m not waking up in the same place I went to sleep at.

  “No. I’m sorry... I didn’t…” a voice shouts beside me.

  My eyes pop open, fear clinging to my insides like sticky honey. My gaze sweeps over the room, until they land on Ivan lying beside me. His face is scrunched up, pain and sadness painted on his features.

  “No. No. No. It can’t... she can’t be gone…” Ivan roars, and I push off the mattress, gripping onto his thick shoulders. Is he having a nightmare? What’s happening to him? I shake him or try to at least. His arms flail back and forth, his fists are clenched, and they land heavily against the mattress. He starts to toss and turn, and I worry he may roll over me and squish me.

  “Ivan, wake up. Wake up.” I shake his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry, Mira. I’m so sorry.” The anguish in his voice rips through me. Mira? Who could she be? I don’t know what he’s dreaming about, but something is haunting him, chasing him even in his dreams. I can’t stand to hear him be so hurt.

  “Ivan!” I yell this time. When he doesn’t respond, I decide to slap him. Pulling my hand back, I slap him square across the face, my palm connecting with his heated cheek. The sting from the contact of my hand on his skin can still be felt when his eyes open, his hand coming up to grip my wrist as if out of reflex.

  His grip is hard as steel, and I grimace at his touch. There’s a feral look in his eyes, a deep fear. I only catch a glimpse of it before he blinks, and it’s gone. Anger replaces those emotions and flares in his stone-gray eyes. A coldness sweeps through me as he sits up slightly. It’s then that I catch a whiff of whiskey. It hangs in the air between us.

  “Were you drinking?” I ask softly.

  Ivan’s eyes bleed into mine for a long moment, before he releases my wrist with a shove. I’m not sure what happened. When I fell asleep, everything was different. I was in my cell, but now I’m here, and I don’t understand why. I don’t understand why he’s so angry with me.

  “Why did you slap me?” His voice is gruff, and he sounds like he might’ve been swallowing gravel all night. I would assume so as well if he didn’t smell like a distillery

  “You were screaming. Did you have a nightmare?”

  “That’s none of your fucking business.” His brash response surprises me. He’s never talked to me with so much anger in his voice. Without even looking at me, he gets up from the bed.

  “It’s okay, Ivan. I’m sorry if she hurt you…”

  As fast as Ivan got up from the bed, he’s storming right back toward me, his eyes blazing with emotions I don’t understand as, he puts his finger in my face.

  “You don’t fucking know anything. Nothing. You’re lucky you’ve weaseled your way under my skin as far as you have, because otherwise, you’d be just like the nine other women downstairs.”

  I blink, his words like a punch to the gut. Nine other women? A sudden surge of anger grips onto me, refusing to let go. I’m angry because I’m here against my will. I’m angry for the other women also being held against their will, and I’m angry at this Mira for hurting Ivan, even though I obviously shouldn't be. I’m angry at the world and before I even realize it, I’m yelling back at him.

  “I’m sorry… I didn’t know, okay? I woke up and you were screaming in your sleep. I was scared. I didn't know what was happening, and I don’t know who Mira is but—”

  My words are cut off before they can even finish coming out. Ivan is on me in a flash, his hands gripping my arms so tightly I cry out in pain.

  He starts to shake me, his face millimeters away from mine.

  “Don’t even fucking say her name. You don’t fucking know anything!”

  Tears fill my eyes. Why is he so angry?

  I feel like I have whiplash when he releases my arms just to grip onto my waist with equal force. He picks me up and throws me over his shoulder, knocking the breath from my lungs in the process.

  I just don’t understand… I don’t understand why he is so mad. Why is he suddenly treating me like this? Why did he even bring me up here? I don’t know anything, and everything about this situation terrifies me. The only person I have is him, and he's angry with me, furious.

  “Ivan,” I whisper, needing him to tell me it’s going to be okay.

  “Shut up and keep your eyes closed,” he orders as we walk out the front door and into the hall. I close my eyes and grip onto the fabric of his shirt, hoping that I didn’t just make the biggest mistake ever. I should have kept my mouth shut. If I would have just stayed quiet, I would be still in Ivan’s bed right now. I would be warm and tucked into his side. This is my fault. All mine. We walk down a flight of stairs, before turning to walk down another. Ivan’s steps come to a sudden halt, his grip on me tightens and in turn, my finger nails dig into the cotton of his t-shirt.

  “Ivan.” An unfamiliar voice reaches my ears. It belongs to a dark sinister man. I know it even without seeing his face. It’s merely his tone, and the reaction that Ivan has to his presence, that tells me all I need to know about him.

  “Yulie,” Ivan greets him.

  “Is that one of the girls from downstairs?” Yulie’s voice grows closer and heavy footsteps bounce of the walls. He's walking over to us. My body starts to shake, and I want to go back in time to change what I did. I want to apologize and beg and plead.

  “Yeah, I don't like to fuck them down there. It’s fucking filthy in those cells, and I don’t want to catch some disease.” Hearing Ivan talk so vulgarly about me only makes me more scared. I know he’s lying to protect me but hearing him talk about me like I’m nothing more than something to fuck scares me and saddens me all at once.

  “I hear ya. She does have a nice ass. I suppose she’d be worthy of fucking.” I feel a hand grab my ass, but I don’t know who’s it is. I squeeze my eyes shut, wanting the moment to end as the same hand reaches between my legs. I feel him grip me there, between my legs, and I want to kick and scream, tell him to stop, but I know that would just make things worse.

  It wouldn't just hurt me. It would hurt Ivan, too. It would make him have to hurt me and even though I know he’s mad at me right now, I don’t think that’s something he’d really want to do.

  “Too bad I have an early meeting to attend or I would take her off your hands for a few hours.”

  “She’ll be in the auction if you want to have her all to yourself.”

  Bile rises in my throat, threatening to come out of my mouth if I don’t get it under control.

  “I thought we only sell virgins at the auction?” The man isn’t asking, he’s stating.

  “That’s why I only fuck them in the ass. Might as well use them while they’re here. There isn’t any harm in preparing them for the world that’s to come.”

  The other man starts laughing, and I have to concentrate on not throwing up.

  I wonder if Ivan’s done this before? He’s either a really good liar or he’s done something like this before.

  “I gue
ss that’s one way to get around it. You take care now.”

  Yulie’s heavy footsteps move away from us, and Ivan continues walking down the stairs. Once we’re back in the cell, he walks right up to the mattress and drops me onto it. I look up at him, but he’s already turned his back to me and is halfway across the cell.

  “Ivan?” My voice comes out small, and it trembles even though I try to stop it. He doesn’t stop walking, or turn around, and he doesn’t say anything either. He just walks out the door, slamming it shut behind him. The loud noise makes me flinch and a new set of tears make their way down my face. I feel sick and curl up into a tight ball in the center of the mattress, wishing more than ever that I would have just kept my mouth shut.

  “I’m sorry…” I whisper to no one in particular. My chest heaves as I sob into the dirty mattress. I want to go home. I want to see my sister and go back to a normal life. I question what bad thing I’ve done in my life to deserve to be where I am right now.

  I slam my fist into the mattress. I never should’ve gone to that club. I never should’ve listened to my friends. The tears keep coming, and I know there’s no point in stopping them. My tears are the only thing I have left that are mine.

  Two days pass before I see Ivan again. I spend most of that time crying in a fetal position. My hopes that he’s coming back to me are withering away with each passing hour.

  The second meal of the day has already been served, so when I hear the door unlocking, I perk up. When I see his large body appear in the doorway, I almost jump up and run to him. Instead, I just sit there frozen in place, afraid to open my mouth. I don't know why he's here. Hell, he could be coming to get me to ship me away.

  Without saying a word, he crosses the room, bends down, and picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder like he did last time.

  “Keep your eyes closed,” he says before walking out and slamming the heavy door shut behind us. He starts making his way upstairs, faster than normal, like he is in a hurry or maybe he just doesn't want to run into someone else. Then again, neither do I.

  He doesn’t stop until we are in his apartment and the door is shut behind us. I open my eyes and see he is walking into the bedroom.

  “Ivan?” I whisper, but he doesn’t answer. Instead, he swings me from his shoulder onto his bed, making me bounce on the soft mattress. I gaze up at him, confused and a little scared, but then I see his expression, and I know he didn’t bring me up here to hurt me.

  “I’m sorry,” he tells me and gets on the bed with me, positioning himself on top of me. He is holding himself up on his elbows and his large body looms over my small one.

  “I didn't mean to hurt you the other night. I lost control. But believe me, it was not intentional.”

  I know shouldn't trust him. Shouldn’t just accept his apology. He's a criminal, probably a murderer, too, and he's selling me and other women for money. Still, I believe him.

  He moves over me until his face hovers directly above my own. Then, without even an inkling of hesitation, his lips are on mine. He tastes like mint, and he kisses like me he’s trying to remind me of the kind man he is.

  I've kissed a couple guys; each occasion was sloppy and one I didn't want to revisit but none of them ever kissed me like this... like I was the air they needed to breathe. My breath hitches in my throat when his huge hand cups me by the cheek. His touch is tender, kind, and I melt into it.

  I feel his tongue slip across my bottom lip, begging for entry. I've never French kissed before. It excites me, and I part my lips, moaning when his tongue touches mine.

  The kiss deepens, and he strokes the inside of my mouth, leaving me feeling all warm and tingly inside. I lift my hands, pulling him down on top of me. I can feel his huge erection pressing into my belly, and panic shoots through me momentarily.

  That panic quickly disappears when his warm body presses me into the soft mattress, making me feel safe and protected, as if he is guarding me from everything bad in the world with his body. I start to melt underneath his touch, and I revel in the feeling of his heavy body against mine.

  My body seems to move on its own, as if it knows what to do, and I let it, because I’ve never felt the way I do right now. My fingers dive into his hair, tugging on the strands. While he cradles my head, kissing me with every ounce of who he is. I lift my hips and spread my legs wider, wanting more, needing more. Ivan grunts above me as if he’s in pain before pulling away but only slightly.

  His fingers roam down my body, his eyes remain on mine, pleading, questioning as he slips beneath the hem of the shirt I’m wearing. His thick fingers ghost over my skin, and I shiver. He touches me as if I’m going to break, like I’m a fragile piece of porcelain.

  “I… I want you,” I whisper, giving him permission but instead of touching me, instead of giving us both what we want, he pulls away.

  “I want you, too, you don’t even know how much, but we can’t.” He looks away as if he is trying to hide his face from me, as if he’s ashamed. “Do you want to take a shower? You can go by yourself.”

  “What if I want you to come?” I ask, my teeth sinking into my bottom lip. I don’t know what I’m doing or even what I’m asking for. All I know is that after being away from him for two days, I need to show him how valuable he is to me, how important his presence is, because then maybe he won’t leave me all alone again.

  “I don’t think you know what you want, Kitten. If you knew everything about me, about the things I’ve done, you wouldn’t be wanting me to touch you, let alone take a shower with you.”

  His response hurts and feels a lot like rejection, but I’ve been hurt worse in my time here, and though I might be inexperienced and a bit naive, after the way he kissed me, I know he wants me. He can deny it all he wants, but his body proves otherwise.

  “You’re part of the reason I’m here, Ivan, and I still want you, so I think I know what I am asking for.”

  Nervous laughter spills from his throat. “No, you haven’t the first clue what you’re asking for, and I might be a bastard, but I’m not taking that from you, especially before the checking.”

  My brow furrows. “The checking?”

  “Come take a shower, and I’ll take one with you.”

  I oblige, springing from the bed. I walk into the bathroom and pull off all of my clothes, tossing them to the floor. I am not as timid as I was last time when I got naked in front of him. Ivan does the same, though his movements are slower and just like last time, I enjoy watching him strip. My eyes rake over the dark ink painted on his skin. He’s toned and tan, and my mouth waters with every new inch of flesh I see.

  “Are you still bleeding?” He turns the water on and steps into the shower, extending a hand outward to me.

  “No.” I take his hand and groan when the heated water lands against my back. When I look up at Ivan, there’s a hunger reflecting in his gray eyes.

  “I think you knew what you were doing when you asked me to take a shower with you, Kitten.” His tone is playful and makes me smile.

  I step closer and reach for his erection, but he snatches my wrist in an unbreakable hold.

  “Not today, Kitten. I can’t have sex with you, but I can give you pleasure.” He grins before spinning me around and pulling me flush to his chest, so my back is pushed against his front. I feel his penis press into my lower back, right above my ass cheeks, and I wonder for a moment what he is doing. He said he can’t have sex with me, because of the checking, whatever that is, but knowing what the future holds, that some rich man is going to take it, makes me want to give it to Ivan even more.

  With that thought, I lean forward and push my ass back against his raging erection.

  “Violet,” he grits out, each finger on his hand wrapping around my hip, holding me in place. My name on his lips sounds strange, not to mention I didn’t even know he knew my name.

  “I want you to be my first. If I’m going to be sold anyway, why does it matter? If this is the only thing I have that’s m
ine to give away then I want to give it to you.” I peer at him over my shoulder. I can see the conflict in his eyes.

  “No. I want you, fucking believe me, I do, but I can’t. If they find out you aren’t a virgin when the doctor checks you then it’s procedure to give you to the men. The higher ups, then the lowers. Eventually, you’ll be sent to the whorehouse, that’s if you don’t die first. I’m not going to let that happen to you because I wanted to get my dick wet.”

  I gulp at his confession. “Oh…” It’s the only thing I can say. I’m a whole lot of shocked. Shocked that he would tell me these things, shocked that they would do that to someone. Overall, I’m just so fucking surprised at how cruel of a bitch the world is.

  “But I can do other things to you. I can finger you.” He releases my hip and trails his fingers down my lower back, over my ass, and between my legs. “I can eat you out. Feast on your pussy.”

  I shiver at his brash words.

  “I’ve never done either of those things.” My chest heaves at my admission.

  “Don’t say shit like that, Kitten, not when I’m already barely hanging on by a shred.”

  I shiver, feeling every word he said down to my core. He nudges my thighs apart with his hand and presses me against the tiled wall. I turn my head, placing my cheek against the cold surface.

  My hardened nipples move over the damp tile, sending sparks of pleasure between my legs.

  “I’m going to finger you, and then I’m going to taste you on my tongue. If you want me stop at any point, just say so but know I will not touch you again. Not even if you beg me, Kitten.”

  His body is big enough to loom over mine, and while I feel one of his hands between my thighs, the other grips onto my hip, guiding me to where he wants me. With my chest pressed against the wall and my ass jutted out, I feel exposed.

  Our eyes connect, and I feel the heat of his body seeping into mine as he leans into me, all his hard edges touching my soft curves.

  “Fuck, you’re beautiful, Violet, so fucking beautiful.” His breath fans against my ear, his teeth grazing the sensitive flesh.