Savage Boss (Ruthless Bratva Daddies #3)

Chapter 1

CLARA

“Iknow, I look ridiculous.”

The woman next to me in the elevator glances over, then quickly looks away. I can’t help but feel ridiculous standing next to her New York-glam ensemble in my sexy, deep green fantasy elf costume, made of silk and chiffon, and with a ribbon-laced front corset.

I’d drawn the line at the fake elf ears.

“My best friend spared no expense in planning her bachelorette party, even though I’m the maid of honor and it’s my duty.

I tried talking her out of it, but I was unsuccessful.

She gets an idea in her head and runs with it.

Emily and her treasure hunts, escape rooms, and magical quests.

Why couldn’t she just let me throw her a traditional bachelorette party? ”

The woman has no answer for me other than one more odd glance before stepping out into the hallway as soon as the doors slide open.

Once the doors close again, I realize the button for my floor is no longer illuminated. I go to push it, annoyed, when my phone buzzes, causing my annoyance to increase tenfold.

“Leave me alone,” I snarl under my breath, ignoring the call yet again as the elevator starts its ascent, shoving the phone back into my purse.

The doors slide open with a ding, and I make my way to the only door.

My crazy bestie has a dozen of us scouring New York City for clues, drinking fruit shots at various bars in exchange for hints to the next location given in ridiculous riddles, while she watches intently with an amused sparkle in her eye.

I’ll do just about anything for my best friend, and I have to admit, the journey to this door, what Emily called “Fantasy Land” in one of the city’s grandest hotels, was kind of fun.

I double-check the invitation, take a deep breath, and ring the bell.

The door opens to reveal a penthouse suite at the top of the world, with floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the glowing cityscape of Manhattan.

A man stands there, tall, ruggedly handsome, and imposing. The glass in his hand reflects the flickering light of candles burning nearby. Music plays softly in the background.

“Oh! Hold on. I have to put this on,” I tell him.

I tug the strip of cloth from my clutch and tie it around my head and over my eyes, making the room disappear.

“It’s part of the challenge, but you already know that, right?”

The man remains quiet, though I can hear ice swirling in his glass.

“Sorry. I’ve had a few shots already. Okay, so, here’s the rhyme:

I have followed the Queen’s scroll to this high gate, a final journey from the grassy dell

For the Lady’s revel, I can no longer wait, where champagne flows, and magic starts to swell

Say to the keeper, ‘The Fellowship is here,’ and banish all your fears.”

The silence continues while I wait for whatever answer is supposed to come, until the slow tapping of approaching footsteps mark the man’s movement.

“And you are?” His voice reverberates across my skin, a deep baritone with a thick Russian accent that leaves a breath of a shiver running through me.

“I’m Clara. So what do we do now?”

“You tell me,” the sexy voice says. I can hear the ice clink as the glass is placed down. He moves

closer, the scent of woodsmoke and amber filling my nostrils.

What kind of bachelorette party dare is this? I was expecting some Lord of the Rings fantasy cosplay but nothing like this.

“So I’m supposed to figure it out then. I guess the ‘Lady’s revel’ could be the bachelorette party.”

“Perhaps. But what do you want it to mean?”

I jump because the man is right in front of me, his voice in my face. I can feel his heat, and my body responds.

Hot.

I don’t say anything for a moment.

“What’s going on here? Is this part of the quest or whatever this bachelorette party is supposed to be?”

I hear a soft chuckle that melts my bones. “Actually, this is your own quest, and you can do as you please with it.”

“Like, stay and see where this leads?” I ask, my voice quieter than I intend it to be.

“Yes,” the man says. His voice drops half an octave, sending a thrill through me that swirls in my stomach, then sinks lower.

When his large, calloused hand brushes across my arm, my breath catches, excitement running like electricity through me. I don’t resist, and he pulls me closer. I try to peek beneath the blindfold, but all I can see is a faint glow of candlelight and tattoos etched across the back of his hand.

I’m desperate to study this man closer, this man with a voice that makes my insides melt into a puddle. But when I reach up to take off the blindfold, his hand stops me.

“Leave it where it is.”

His fingers trace down my shoulder and arm, leaving a trail of heat in their wake, before taking my hand and leading me forward. I have no choice but to trust him, and to trust myself that this is what I want.

I see no reason why I shouldn’t take whatever Emily is offering. After everything I’ve been through, I deserve a crazy night, and the chemistry with this sexy, mysterious Russian man is undeniable.

With his hand still wrapped around mine, he guides me through the penthouse.

I hear a door being softly closed before he gently eases me down onto what I assume is a bed.

The comforter is soft where it touches my skin, the enigmatic moment adding to the excitement and the liquid heat pooling between my legs.

I haven’t been this turned on in a very long time. At least a year, maybe more. Lustful need ignites like a match to kindling, so explosive it leaves me breathless.

I follow the sounds in the room carefully. When I hear what resembles clothing being removed, my breath catches. I sense his approach. His presence fills my senses, even though I can’t see him. His heat, his scent, his passion envelope me.

“So tell me,” he begins in that sexy voice, “what exactly does the lady consider revelry?” He leans in close, his hands pressing down on the bed on either side of my hips.

The raw lust in his tone heats my blood, the alcohol making me feel bold and sexy. “The lady is up for almost anything.”

What sounds like a half chuckle, half growl reaches my ears before the barest whisper of, “That’s what I like to hear.”

The warmth of his lips presses against the spot behind my ear. I respond with a soft sigh, as though my entire body was waiting for exactly that. His kisses move lower down my neck, making me shiver.

He nuzzles my skin, the stubble on his jaw rasping against the softness. He breathes me in, long and deep.

“You smell incredible.”

“I smell like fruity shots,” I giggle. I try to be light and flirty to mask the nervousness I feel.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing another kiss to my shoulder before moving on to my collarbone.

One of his hands slips inside my skirt. I squirm, feeling my nipples press against the silky fabric of the ridiculous costume I’m wearing. It’s just one more sensation on top of all the others that are causing sparks throughout my body.

This man wants me; I can feel it. There’s no mistaking the hardness pressing against my knee as he leans even closer, his hand slipping up my thigh with a feather-light touch.

“There are so many things I want to do to you and with you.”

I don’t know whether Emily has anything to do with why I am in this room with this man, nor do I care at this point. I’m ready to cleanse my ghosts and my memories of someone else.

I gasp as his seeking fingers finally find the edge of my panties and slip under the band.

When he touches me, it’s like a million firecrackers going off at once. Being blindfolded has heightened my other senses, and I surge forward, my hips tilting instinctively toward him. He undoes my corset and pulls the costume over my head.

I reach forward to where I think his neck is. When I find it, I pull him to me and jam my mouth against his. His response is immediate, his tongue prying my lips apart and plunging into my mouth, the smoldering fire exploding into an inferno with a shower of sparks.

I cry out when his fingers dip inside my wet, pulsing sex. I grasp his thick hair, my nails biting into his scalp.

“I like that sound,” he growls, his free hand in my hair, tugging my head back so he can lick my neck. “I like how badly you want me.”

I like how badly I want him, too. I’m so desperate for his touch, his fingers driving me wild as I drive myself down onto them.

He grips my hair harder—pain mixed with pleasure—as he pulls my head back, so he can ravage my mouth again. At the same time, his fingers work harder, faster, in time to the thrusts of my hips. It’s all over when he adds his thumb, running it over my clit in circles.

I cry out as my orgasm washes over me. I’m shaking and jerking, clinging to him like he’s the only thing grounding me to the earth.

He doesn’t give me a chance to come down from my high. I hear the unzipping of a zipper, and I dig my nails into his back in anticipation. I feel him teasing against my entrance, and fuck, he feels enormous.

“Tell me what you want.”

“You,” I gasp. “All of you, inside of me. Fucking me hard.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He pulls my panties off. In one thrust he’s inside of me, every inch raking against every nerve. It’s torturous and slow, and I want more. I need more.

He groans, uttering words in Russian. I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him in deeper. Every nerve is on fire, my body burning from the inside out, sparks dancing in front of my covered eyes. I don’t hold back as he starts moving inside of me, pulling out all the way before plunging back in.

Our breathing grows harsher, faster, punctuated by muffled moans and muttered words that mix with my cries. My hands are desperate for something to clutch, to anchor to. The scents of cologne, sex, and musky sweat swirl around me, mixed with wild desire and desperate need.

Words come out of my mouth I didn’t know I knew, sounds I didn’t know I could make. I’ve never been a screamer, but as he drives me higher and higher, my screams only grow in intensity.

He enjoys every bit of it, demanding more of the words I use to beg and plead for him to go harder. I’m so desperately lost in the waves of pleasure crashing over me that I oblige.

My second orgasm is so powerful, I see white stars behind the blindfold.

He gives me one after another, in every way and position he can mold me into. His Russian accent, his touch, and his musky, dangerous scent envelopes me until, with a roar, he comes inside me, filling me with warmth as he jerks and shudders.