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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Sprouts of blonde curls topple down Annika’s shoulders when she shakes her head. “He could be in one of the cubes. They’re usually occupied by the hierarchies on the last night of voyage.” She smiles when she spots the confused crinkle pops between my brows. “The cubes are where they…” She makes a hand gesture I have no idea how to decipher. “I told them there was nothing going on between Ghost and you. They didn’t believe me.”

If she is talking about prolonged glances and awkward thigh presses, then there’s been plenty of stuff happening between Ghost and me.

Things changed the night he protected me from Artyom. However, it seems to be one-sided. Ghost only touches me when he thinks I’m sleeping, and it never goes any further than him curling my hair around his fingers.

His nightly routine ensures I wash my hair every evening. Sometimes twice.

I hate myself for my wish for attention, but as I said two weeks ago, when you’re starved for attention as long as I have been, you strive to get it any way you can.

Before I can call myself a liar—Artyom was more than willing to sully me, but it isn’t him I crave attention from—Annika balances on her tippytoes to whisper something into Vera’s ear. Vera’s eyes snap to mine for a brief second before she dips her chin in approval. It barely rests on her ample chest for half a second when Annika reappears at my side. She snatches up my hand and drags me toward the bow of the boat.

I peer at her as if she is insane when she hands me a floral lei dangling off a large set of wooden doors. The noise projecting from the concealed space reminds me of the nightclubs I badly wanted to visit but was never given the opportunity since I was snatched at such a young age.

“If you wear a lei, they know you’re only here to watch,” Annika explains while pulling her hair out from underneath the plastic flowers holding her curls hostage. “These events are purely volunteer. No one is forced here.”

Images of Artyom pinning me to a shipping container flash before my eyes when I ask, “Forced to do what?”

I swallow my words when the first thing my eyes land on upon entering the disco-vibe space is a naked torso. A man has a woman bent over a desk in a cube with see-through walls. He’s entering her from behind while another man stands at her front, stroking his cock a mere inch from her mouth.

As my eyes drift along the long line of cubes with similar activities being undertaken in each one, I ask, “Should we be in here?”

Annika stops me from leaving by grabbing the tops of my arms and spinning me back around. “It is all voluntary. No one is here against their will.” When I give her a look, she murmurs, “I’d rather you learn now than with him.” She snarls her last word, but it gives me no indication as to who she’s referencing. It couldn’t be Ghost because she’s never sneered at him like she is now.

As we float from one cube to another with only two people in it, Annika asks, “Is it true? Are you his next pick?”

I shrug, but try as I may, I can’t get my body to obey the other prompts in my head.

I shouldn’t be watching a man with his head between a blonde’s legs, but I can’t tear my eyes away.

He’s pleasing her.

Isn’t that against the rules?

Our enjoyment is not ours. Women live solely to please men.

“Have you ever?” Annika asks, startling me since I didn’t hear her sneak up on me.

I could lie, but the lofty peak of her tone announces she is as bewildered as me, so instead, I shake my head.

“What do you think it feels like?”

As I drink in the female’s flushed cheeks, lusty eyes, and partly open mouth, I murmur, “Heaven.”

Annika’s quick exhale hits the back of my neck. “Heaven. That sounds like a good word.”

An unusual sensation hits between my legs when the man ramps up his efforts. He grips the lady’s bare backside hard enough to mark before he eats her vagina with the hunger of a starved man, and I do nothing but watch.

I’m not the only one hovering in close, certain they’re about to witness greatness. Ghost is right there with the group of approximately thirty on the other side of the cube. Except he’s not watching the couple clawing for a sense of normality. He’s staring straight at me.

It is the same prolonged watch he’s given me multiple times over the past three days, and it amplifies the frantic twinge between my legs. I’m desperate to writhe on the spot, but I don’t dare move. Not just because I fear displaying any type of emotion but because I also don’t want to risk losing the throb I’ve only ever experienced once before.


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