Devious Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #3) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes

Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)

I had everything until I had nothing… Before his brother’s murder, Yev was playful, confident, way too young for me, and domineering enough to utter three words no man was game to ruminate much less speak. Crawl to me. Loving him was reckless. It scared the shit out of me, so you can imagine how hard the task became when an addiction was the only thing capable of swallowing his grief. He’s a shell of a man he was once was, but not all his devious tendencies center around his brother’s murder. Most are because of me. I’m the reason he returned to Russia, his sole purpose to continue breathing. Except I’m betrothed to another, and unless I want everyone of importance in my life to slip through my fingers as they has Yev’s, it must stay that way. This isn’t a fairytale. There is no guaranteed happily ever after, but I’d be a liar if I said one look into Yev’s pained eyes didn’t have me wanting to wage a war. I’m certain he’d protect me as well as I’d protect him even with him being the one I need protecting from the most.

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************



“Knees. Now.”

You have no fucking idea how hard it is not to bang my chest when a woman as effortlessly refined as Polina Kotova immediately follows my command. Her flawless face, dick-aching body, and knee-weakening smile made her my first official spank bank inductee eight years ago, but now not only do I get to sample everything she has to offer, but I also get to boss her around.

The remembrance makes my dick leak with pre-cum, which doubles the hungry gleam in Polina’s icy blue eyes since her kneeled position puts her in direct line with my erect cock.

We’ve been fooling around for the past few weeks. It wasn’t meant to be anything serious, simply the release of the bottled-up tension we were forced to lock away for years when her older brother requested I follow his girl to Sicily.

Don’t misconstrue what I’m saying. Alek isn’t a complete fucking tool. He knew what I didn’t want to acknowledge at the time.

I had no right chasing a woman like Polina.

I had nothing to my name, attitude in abundance, and was way too fucking young to realize why those two points were my biggest issues.

I would have fucked everything up, so Alek nabbed the opportunity before I could.

I hated him for it the first couple of weeks in Italy, but as all the bullshit artists say, absence makes the heart grow fonder. It also matured me, stuffed my bank account with enough funds to impress a woman with tastes as honed as Polina’s, and ensured I knew after smearing the sheets with perfection not to go searching for her replacement before the sheets had gone cold.

I’m not saying I would have stepped out on Polina if she had given me a chance all those years I’d chased her like a lost puppy, but I can’t offer any guarantees, either.

What can I say? I was a dick.

I still am now, but luckily for me, Polina craves dominance in the bedroom. She is a princess on the streets but a whore between the sheets, and I fucking love that I get the privilege of seeing both sides of her.

Lust hangs heavily on my vocal cords when I demand, “Now crawl to me.”

A throbbing surge pulses through my dick when the quickest flare of defiance gleams through her eyes before she slowly crawls my way. Her luscious blonde locks swish around her gorgeous face as her knees—that don’t look like they’ve been scuffed by hard work once in their life—redden from the thick carpet pile digging into them, but the need in her eyes keeps my cock firm enough to bounce a nickel off.

Christ, she makes my dick ache.




As Polina stops at my heel, kneeling in front of my erection standing tall and proud, I picture the many ways I’ve taken her the past four weeks—in my car, in the dressing room of her boutique clothing store, and in the dusty lot of one of the underground fight circuits I’ve frequented since my return to Kronstadt.

I’ve fucked her seven ways from Sunday and still can’t get enough.

I’d almost given up the chance when weeks of chasing resulted in nothing but blue balls, but I got there in the end—eventually.

Thank fuck for weather events not even God can control.

It gave me an in and saved me from months of torment.

Every painful jab my cock endured when I faked how good she’d feel wrapped around it was instantly worth it the first time I took her against the wall of her boutique. A typhoon was raging, but it set the backdrop for a romp that can only be classified in two ways.

Perfect and bewildering.

Just like her.

I’m a cocky fuck who knows he has the world at his feet, but my underhanded acknowledgment that I’m bedding a girl way out of my league rings in my voice when I ask, “Do you want to swallow my cum now, Polly, or after I’ve stuffed my cock in every hole you own?”

She’s miffed about the nickname she hates, but she’s on her knees, inches from my dick, so her lips only part for one reason.

To suck my cock.

“Mouth it is.”

While swiping the glistening crown across her red-painted lips to gloss them up more, I recall the time Alek found her in a room with a low-ranked member of his crew. Polina’s brother is a take-no-shit Russian gangster who ran the streets long before I started living on them. When he put an official do-not-touch order on his baby sister, he meant it, so picture his response when he found Polina semi naked in the bed of a bottom-dweller.

Pavel’s face didn’t have a smattering of bruises like I’m confident mine will when I confess to Alek that I want more than messy sheets from his baby sister.

It didn’t fucking exist.

Alek beat the living shit out of him, and I would have backed up his campaign with my gun if Feo hadn’t dragged me out of the party before I commenced digging my grave alongside Pavel’s.