Deadly Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #4) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106159 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 531(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
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His skin is hot to the touch when he pulls up the cups of my bra before fixing the middle button of my shirt into place. It makes my cleavage risqué, but I’m presentable enough that after a quick lift and tug maneuver, we can exit his car without his hand bracing the gun I felt when I latched my knees around his waist.

“Should you leave your car parked there?” I ask as he curls his fingers around my hand and tugs me toward the service entrance.

His strides don’t slow. “Someone will take care of it.”

After squashing his thumb to an elevator button, he leans over so a retina scanner can scan his eye.

Whoa.

Too curious for my own good, and still strumming with horniness, I ask, “Is the elevator monitored?”

“Yes,” Matvei snaps out, his one word fired off his tongue like a whip. “If it weren’t, I’d already have you stripped naked by now.” He firms his grip on my hand before murmuring, “Patience isn’t my strong point.”

“Yet you waited months before announcing your watch.”

His hand sweats when he replies, “I had matters I needed to take care of first. Matters that hindered my ability to pursue you.”

“I thought you said you’ve never been married?”

The wittiness of my reply harnesses Matvei’s wish to react snappily, but his reply still almost knocks me on my ass. “It wasn’t my marriage I needed to dissolve.” His jaw quivers as he forces out his next words. “It was yours.”

Our elevator arrives before my blurry head can scamper for a response. Matvei doesn’t seem to mind. After tossing the key for his mother’s ruined car into the chest of a man standing guard in the foyer, he walks me to a door at the end of the elegant corridor.

Like most five-star hotels, the penthouse is gorgeous. High-end materials cover every surface, and the furniture is bulky and designer and looks horribly uncomfortable.

With his mood no longer playful, Matvei lets go of my hand before veering for a bar in the corner of the large living room. After slinging off his suit jacket and undoing the cufflinks on his dress shirt, he pours a generous serving of whiskey.

His face doesn’t screw up when he downs the flaming liquid. His expression remains staunch and frustrated.

“I should go.”

He slams his glass firmly enough to chip the bottom before he glances back at me. The breaths he sucks down while gripping the edge of the marble bar hint that he’s not in the “mood” anymore.

I guess that is understandable, since I can’t deny his claim that I’ve been previously married.

“Is there an elevator that will take me to the lobby?”

A lump forms in my throat when he says, “Shut the fuck up and get on your knees.”

“I beg your pardon?” I’m shocked I can speak. My mind is reeling. Just don’t ask me if it’s from fear or excitement because I wouldn’t be able to give you an honest answer.

“You heard me, Natalya.” He pushes back from the bar, removes his gun from its holster, places it next to his empty glass, then slowly stalks my way. “Get on your knees. Now.” Before they can find the closest exit, my eyes snap back to his when he says, “Now that we’ve established you want to be chased, think wisely before leaving. You won’t make it to the elevator.”

“Being chased and being hunted are two entirely different things.”

“Are you sure?” He creeps closer. “Because your cunt smells as dripping wet now as it was in the car.”

“You’re absurd.”

My eyes snap from the smug tilt of his lips to his eyes when he says, “And you have five seconds to get on your knees before I force you onto them.”

A tremor runs the length of my spine when he commences counting down. “Five…”

He moves even closer.

“Four…”

Another step.

“Three…”

He’s close enough to touch me now.

“Two…”

The air in my lungs leaves in a hurry when he fists my hair at the base of my scalp before he snarls, “One.” He seems pleased by my stubbornness when he uses his grip on my hair to lower me to my knees. “So much tenacity, my little spitfire.” With his spare hand, he massages my jaw, loosening it up. “I think that was the first thing that attracted me to you. Your face makes my dick ache like no woman before you, but you’re so fucking stubborn I knew you’d fight me at every turn.”

“Is that why you waited so long?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“No.” He shifts his thumb from my jaw to my lips. “It was wondering how you’d respond to my need for control.” As he scrubs at my lips with his thumb, he murmurs, “There’s only one thing I’ve ever stuffed down a woman’s throat when she denied me.” My heart beats between my legs when he admits, “It wasn’t my cock.” A thrilling zap rockets through my body as he says, “There’s just something about you that makes my responses not as… obstinate.”


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