Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3)

by Hayley Faiman

  “Kirill,” I groan.

  “Sshh, Tati. Let me fuck my pretty little fiancée,” he whispers against my lips.

  I do as he asks.

  Quietly, I let him fuck me again—one of his hands is buried in my hair, while the other stays gripped on my ass, moving me as he wishes. The movements between us are slight, but since we’ve both just come, we’re sensitive and it’s warm and sensitive with each gentle thrust from his hips.

  Staring into Kirill’s stormy eyes, I come without a sound. He soon follows me and orgasms with a low, deep, groan—his hands tightening on me and his eyes full of what can only be described as awe.

  After we cleanup, he holds me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me until I fall asleep in his arms. Tonight, I’m just his fiancée, his woman; but tomorrow, I’ll be his wife, his life partner. I can’t wait.

  “YOU MAY KISS YOUR bride,” the officiant says. Before I can take a breath, Kirill wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his body, his mouth on mine as he takes me in a hard, closed mouth kiss.

  The room erupts in cheers as we turn around to face all of our family and friends. I take Kiska’s hand in mine, and together, the three of us walk down the aisle and toward the reception area.

  The evening is magical; the day was magical as well. My father, Sergei, walked me down the aisle to join Kirill and Kiska who, along with the officiant, were the only people waiting for me at the end. The affair was elegant and small, filled with only men and women of the Bratva, our friends and family.

  Now I’m sitting down at a table meeting Kirill’s parents for the first time.

  “You can’t imagine how incredibly happy it makes us to finally see this union happen,” Kirill’s father says as he takes my free hand in his.

  Kirill’s father looks like a rough, hardened man; but when he speaks to me, he’s gentle. He smiles widely and winks.

  “Thank you,” I murmur.

  “Now we have an excuse to come back to LA more often, to spend more time with our granddaughter,” his mother interjects.

  “Yes, ma, you may come anytime you wish and spend as much time with Kiska as your heart desires,” Kirill says.

  “Not that you have a say at all, but thank you,” she states.

  “She’s pissed at me. I don’t call enough, and she heard about both you and Kiska from Sergei and not me,” Kirill whispers in my ear.

  We talk with his parents for a while longer before promising to meet for brunch the next day. Kirill has ordered a large brunch to be catered tomorrow morning for all of the guests at our home.

  I know that I’ll be exhausted, but I also know that many of the guests will be leaving early Monday morning, so I want to be able to spend as much time with them as possible.

  Kirill takes me out on the dance floor and we dance, holding each other closely. I take the opportunity to scan the people around us and I see Ashley sitting at a table alone. Yakov is nowhere in sight. She’s looking down at her lap, sitting perfectly still, and it worries me. When the song ends, I tell Kirill that I’m going to check on her. When he sees her, he agrees that I should.

  “Are you all right?” I ask as I approach her.

  Ashley looks up with watery eyes and I know that she isn’t okay. Her bottom lip is trembling and she’s trying very hard to keep her shit together. I take her hand and pull her from the table, leading her out of the ballroom and into the bathroom.

  “Tell me,” I demand.

  “It doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

  “It does,” I say, looking directly into her watery eyes.

  Ashley is breakable. She’s petite with soft features and pretty, long, blonde hair. She’s young, but it’s more than just her youth. You can tell she’s been through a lot in her life, and she’s vulnerable.

  “I mentioned something to Yakov and he became angry with me. It’s not a big deal, I promise. This is your day; you’ve waited ten years for today. Please, I don’t want to ruin it with my stupid drama,” she says softly.

  “Talk to me, please,” I plead.

  Ashley shakes her head once before she sighs.

  “Everybody is having babies and getting married and Yakov doesn’t want that,” she whispers.

  “He doesn’t want to marry you?” I ask in confusion. He loves her. I’ve watched him dote on her, how could he not want to make her his wife?

  “He doesn’t see a reason to.” She sighs and looks away. There is so much more, but she isn’t going to tell me.

  “And children?”

  “Never even a possibility,” she whispers as a tear streams down her cheek.

  “Is it physically not possible, or does he just not want them?” I ask, trying to get clarification.

  “He doesn’t want them with me, ever,” she sniffs. Without a word, I wrap my arms around her and hold her.

  I know that what she’s said, those simple words are just the tip of the iceberg. There is so much more to Yakov and Ashley. I open my mouth to ask her if she would like to tell me more, to get things off of her chest and just talk, but there is a knock on the door and Emiliya’s head pops in.

  “Yakov is worried sick looking for you, Ashley,” she almost scolds. Ashley’s back straightens immediately.

  “Oh, no. I better go,” she mutters before she turns and scurries past Emiliya.

  “Was she crying?” Emiliya asks, walking into the restroom.

  “She was,” I admit.

  “I think my brother is going to mess up, if he hasn’t already,” Emiliya says, chewing on the side of her lip.

  “I think you are correct,” I confirm with a nod.

  “That is the only woman he has ever loved. I think he doesn’t know how to handle it,” she says, looking at the closed bathroom door.

  “I don’t think any of us know how to handle the love we give and receive,” I say. Emiliya turns to me.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” she grunts.

  We leave Ashley and Yakov’s issues at the door and walk back to the reception. When we return, Ashley and Yakov are nowhere in sight, and soon, I’m off socializing with the other guests. I don’t forget about the sad look in Ashley’s eyes the entire evening. I want to help her, but I don’t know how. I can’t give advice when I don’t know all of the details, and I have a feeling she’ll never give them.

  “Shall we go to bed, my beautiful wife?” Kirill asks as his nose skims the shell of my ear.

  “Take me, husband,” I murmur. I feel my body being lifted into the air.

  The few people that are still drinking and partying cheer for us as he walks me out of the reception and upstairs to the Penthouse suite.

  Then, he takes me as his wife—Mrs. Kirill Barysheva.

  “I love you, Tati,” he murmurs as he slides inside of me, his body looming over mine.

  “I love you, Kirill,” I say as I wrap my hands around his bearded cheeks.

  We make love.

  We don’t fuck hard. We make long, passionate love to each other all night long.

  It is the sweetest way to start our marriage, and I’ve never been happier that this man found me. We’ve had some bumps in our road, but I wouldn’t change a single one because this, this is where we were always supposed to be—together.

  Wrapped in Kirill’s arms, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. Today, we’re happy and safe. Tomorrow, I have no idea what the world will throw at us, but as long as we’re together, we can face anything.

  THE CURTAIN OPENS AND all I want to do is scream and yell as the beautiful little ballerina sashays onto the stage. But I don’t. I compose myself. I watch as my Kiska dances with such grace and beauty, it makes my heart ache.

  It’s breathtaking.

  “I didn’t know,” I whisper, leaning over to Haleigh.

  “That she was so talented?” Haleigh asks, arching a brow and grinning.

  “I supposed; though, I know she’s extremely intelligent,” I murmur.

  “She’s gifted in more than one w
ay. She is a perfect mix of both you and Kirill,” she whispers.

  I smile as I watch her turn and leap on the stage. Kirill’s hand finds its way to my thigh and he squeezes it gently as we watch our girl dance. When her dance is finished, we all clap and give her a standing ovation. It is certainly earned as she simply blew me away.

  “Did you like it,” Kiska asks after the rest of the performers finish and we meet her backstage.

  “I loved it,” I gush as I wrap my arms around her.

  “It was spectacular,” Haleigh says as she takes Kiska from my arms in her own hug.

  “You are so talented, Kiska, I cannot wait for your next performance,” Emiliya grins.

  I watch her place her hand on her round belly and it makes me smile. For someone who was so worried about the fact that she was going to have another baby, she is taking to it beautifully now. She and Radimir just announced that they are going to have another boy. They are both glowing, and it is such a wonderful thing to witness.

  “I absolutely loved it, Kiska. Now I want to be a ballerina,” Ashley smiles as she takes Kiska’s hand in her own.

  “You would be so pretty in a costume,” Kiska gushes. We all laugh and Ashley blushes at her words.

  Kirill tells Kiska to gather her things and change as we have reservations at his restaurant for a fancy celebratory dinner, just the adults and Kiska. She’s so excited to join in an evening at a nice restaurant and to be viewed as a little lady, instead of a kid.

  “How is she doing?” I ask once we’re loaded in the car and on the way to the restaurant.

  “Who?” Kirill murmurs.

  “Ashley,” I sigh in annoyance. He knows exactly who I’m talking about.

  “She will be okay. It has only been a few months, Tati. Her heart is broken, but she’s getting out there every day, doing her job and breathing. I think soon she’ll start living, but she’s got to heal a bit more before that happens,” he says quietly.

  “She told me everything that’s happened to her. She deserves happiness,” I say as we pull into the valet parking. Kirill takes my hand with his and he looks me in the eyes.

  “Everybody deserves happiness, moyo zolotse. Every person deserves their version of what makes them happy. Ashley will find it, once she’s happy with herself, once she’s come to terms with every turn her life has taken over the past few years—then and only then can she seek more.”

  I look up at him in awe, shocked that he’s decided to become so philosophical, and I nod. We don’t say another word as we get out of the car. Kiska walks in front of us, but Kirill stops me right before we enter. He wraps his hand around my back and pulls me into his arms.

  “You are my more, Tatyana. You always have been and you always will be my happiness. I love you, krushka,” he murmurs before his nose runs alongside mine and he presses his lips to mine in a quick kiss.

  We spend the evening surrounded by our friends and then we go home, as a family. Kiska, Kirill, and I.

  Once Kiska is tucked into bed, she gives me a hug and whispers in my ear how tonight was the best night of her life. I congratulate her again on her exquisite performance before I flick her light off and close her door behind me.

  I lie in bed naked with a sheet around my waist, waiting for my Tati to come to me, as she always does. I watch as she closes the bedroom door behind her and locks it. When she looks at me, her eyes immediately heat with want.

  Fuck, she’s so gorgeous. Her hair is growing out now, and it’s a bit awkward. She absolutely detests it, but I think it’s beautiful, as is everything about her. Soon, we’ll never be able to tell that she was ever holding onto life and that the world almost lost her.

  “What are you thinking about?” she asks as she slowly strips her clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor where she stands.

  “You,” I grunt as my cock hardens beneath the sheets.

  “What about me?”

  “I want you to dance for me, my beautiful wife,” I say, avoiding her questions. I don’t like to talk about her accident. I don’t like the haunted look that washes over her when I do.

  “Dance for you?” she asks, quirking a brow at me.

  “Yes, krushka, dance. You haven’t given me a show in quite some time,” I scold with a smirk.

  “You’ve been busy with work. I was afraid you wouldn’t even make it tonight,” she shrugs. It makes her tits sway, drawing my attention to them and causing my mouth to water.

  “Fuck dancing, get over here and you can just dance on my cock,” I growl.

  I watch as she giggles and then does as I have asked, climbing up my thighs and straddling my hips. Her hot pussy presses against my hard cock, the sheet separating us.

  “You’re going to ruin the sheets with your wet pussy, Tati,” I murmur as I slide my hand down to cup her warm center.

  “Let’s make them filthy then, Kirill,” she moans as I grind my palm against her clit.

  I watch her little performance. Her hips swiveling as she searches for pleasure.

  “Can you handle filthy?” I ask.

  “Not only can I handle it—I want it,” she grinds out through her clenched jaw.

  I chuckle before I shove two fingers inside of her tight, wet cunt.

  “Then, moyo zolotse, let’s get to it.”

  WINTER 2016

  Yakov has abandoned Ashley in Los Angeles, with no true reason as to why.

  It is time that she decides to not only survive but to Live.

  Will she do this with or without her beloved Yakov?

  Find out what happens in the next installment of the Russian Bratva series.

  THE SILENCE IN THE car is deafening.

  I look down at my fingers twisted in my lap.

  I can feel Yakov’s anger toward me. I can almost taste it. It’s palpable.

  I know better than to say anything when he’s like this, so I stay quiet as he drives back to the apartment where we’ve been staying. Once we arrive in the parking garage, he doesn’t turn to me. He doesn’t even look at me. Instead, he orders me to get out and go inside. I do as I’m told, as it’s how I’ve been taught—how I’ve been molded.

  Once I’m inside of the apartment, I quickly strip out of my clothes, leaving myself completely nude, and walk into the bedroom where I kneel down on the floor. I wrap my arms around my back and hold onto my elbows, arching my chest forward, then I dip my head down.

  I wait.

  I don’t move.

  What seems like hours later, I hear rustling and then the bedroom door clicks closed. I don’t chance looking up, not even to move my eyes.

  Yakov is not in the mood for what he deems bratty behavior. I’ve accidently done something to challenge him when he was in a mood like this once before, and my punishment was not something I ever wish to repeat.

  “I can’t make you happy,” he whispers into the silent room. My breath hitches at his words, at their meaning, but I don’t move. “Eyes up.”

  I do as he orders and lift my head, letting my eyes meet his. I don’t shield myself from him, I let him see how his words have hurt me, I bare it all without saying a word. I watch as his face threatens to crumple, but then he stands.

  “Jacob?” I ask.

  “Nyet, Ashley. I’m no longer your Jacob. This doesn’t work for me anymore. You want things I do not wish to give you. And you are not the woman I wish to have forever. This must end. I have saved you from the hell I found you living in. I saved you a second time when you were stolen. Now, it is over,” he says harshly.

  Every word breaks my heart, but his last four words shatter my world.

  “Because I want you, all of you? Or because I want a piece of you, I want to create a child with the man that I adore? What exactly don’t you wish to give me?” I ask bravely as I stand from my spot on the floor.

  “All of it. You think I want some weak woman who is so easily taken from me and used the way you were to be my wife? To have my children?” he spits.

 
I take a step backward, stumbling, feeling his words like a physical punch to the gut.

  Every single one.

  “Why are you being this way?” I ask in confusion.

  “You asked,” he shrugs as he takes his bag out of the closet.

  I watch in shock as he packs the few things he has and then walks away from me, into the living room, without a word.

  “Yakov,” I cry out as I run after him. He pauses and turns to me, his eyes cold as ice.

  “I’m over it, Ashley. Over it all. I’m done,” he says. His jaw is clenched, and I wonder if he means it.

  It feels so out of left field, so sudden. Yes, I mentioned having children and he shot it down. An argument, that’s all we had, and it wasn’t even a big one.

  I don’t understand why he’s leaving me.

  “You’re leaving? And what happens to me?” I ask.

  “Radimir will get you taken care of, get you a job somewhere in his office,” he shrugs.

  “You’re leaving me here in LA, for good?” I ask in complete shock.

  “I am,” he says with a nod.

  “Did you ever love me?” I ask as my bottom lip trembles.

  I wait for his answer, but it never comes. Instead, he turns and leaves me standing naked in the living room of an apartment that isn’t even ours. It’s just a place for us to stay while we are in town. It’s owned by Kirill.

  He leaves me with nothing.

  No money. No more than two weeks’ worth of clothes. No food. And the most important thing he leaves me without—himself.

  I stare at the closed door unable to move. I’m frozen. Completely and totally frozen in my spot.

  I stay there for hours.

  I don’t know what to do. Without him telling me—I’m lost.

  The next thing I know, Radimir and Emiliya are in my space. I feel something slide over my shoulders. A blanket. I grasp the edges and cover myself, my face tinting in red that Radimir has seen me naked. Though, what does it really matter? He’s seen me before. When he rescued me in South Africa, from hell.