Wicked Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #1) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
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Almost robotic-like, Ghost spreads my thighs with his elbow, places the instrument between my legs, opens me with his fingers, then gently slips the wand inside me.

Due to the excess amount of lubricant Ghost placed on the end, the intrusion doesn’t cause much discomfort.

Embarrassment, though, is in abundance.

“What are you looking for?”

Ghost doesn’t take his eyes off the monitor while replying, “They used you as a ruse before, so who’s to say they’re not doing it again.”

His reply stuns me for almost a minute. “I haven’t seen Col since the day of the auction.”

Ghost freezes, making it painfully obvious there’s a foreign object inside me. I’m still not experiencing any pain. It is how dangerously close his thumb is to my clit. “That was four years ago.”

“I know.” It is ill-advised of me to speak freely, but my shock is too high to ignore. “I was told my owner was coming to collect me ‘soon’ for every week of those years. You never showed up until this week.”

When Ghost’s eyes snap to Alek, he shrugs. “First time my eyes landed on her consignment slip was after I’d collected the rest.”

The rest?

I realize he means the women in the orlop when he adds, “Instructions were to deliver her to you. Special order. The rest are for the trade.”

The deep vibration of Ghost’s voice rumbles through me when he asks, “Then why is he paranoid?”

Alek’s brows furrow in sync with mine when Ghost pulls the wand out of my vagina and houses it on the hook next to the monitor. “When isn’t he when it comes to you?” He shifts his eyes to the monitor before slanting his head. “There’s nothing in there. She’s pure.” I stiffen as quickly as Ghost when he adds, “As purchased.”

It dawns on me that this is about more than me when Ghost grunts in response, but he tries to act as if I am the bane of his existence. “Supper is to be served by eight.” He heads for the door Alek is holding open for him before spinning back around to face me. “If you are late, the scraps will be served to the fish, and the women will live off nothing but the men’s cum for a week.”

Ghost’s threat was more in frustration about his beef with a man whose name is only ever referenced as ‘he,’ but I arrive at the kitchen two hours before requested, eager to ensure no one faces the wrath of my insolence, and I’ve done so every day for the past three days.

I don’t mind working in the kitchen. The women are pleasant, the crew keeps to themselves, and Ghost’s presence is forever notable.

The last fact should scare me, but it doesn’t. Ghost ensures everyone on the ship gets fed, including the women in the orlop, and although he barely speaks a word to me, he makes sure the rowdiness of his men doesn’t affect the staff’s ability to serve them.

The women only get manhandled once he leaves the table.

Since that isn’t until after me, it is a rare occurrence of late.

I am usually the last to leave.

“It’s tomato soup,” I announce to a gentleman with a large face tattoo when he leans in to sniff the bowl balancing on my hip. “Would you like some?”

As he jerks up his chin, I spot Alek approaching Ghost. His expression is frustrated, and his shoulders are hanging low.

I don’t eavesdrop on their conversation. More because I struggle with Russian in general, much less when it is spoken in harsh, angry tones.

Ghost’s eyes lock with mine when I move to the gentleman seated across from him to serve him the first course of his meal. The worry in his eyes is for me, but his words are for Alek, “Watch her.”

I follow his trek across the room when he vacates his seat and makes a beeline for the hallway that leads to his office. His moody stalk out of the room gains the attention of many sets of eyes. Most of the female eyes admire his dominating walk and structured back and backside. The males are mainly searching for an opportunity to act up.

“I wouldn’t,” Alek warns only a second after Ghost disappears down the hall.

When I shoot my eyes to his, my breath catches in my throat. He’s pointing his steak knife in my direction but mercifully, slightly to the right.

“Unless you want this knife to slice off your cock.” The man with his hand an inch from my ass yanks his arm back before straying his eyes to the other side of the room.

Alek snorts in his face. “Do you always have to ruin my fun, Artyom?”

When Artyom fails to answer him, Alek shifts his focus to me. He doesn’t speak. His eyes simply give me permission to continue serving without the fret of being sexually assaulted.


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