Living for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 4)

by Hayley Faiman

  “We won’t be there for too long, right?” she asks nervously.

  “If you don’t want to go back, we don’t go back,” I shrug.

  “Where will we go, then?” she asks with wide eyes.

  Fuck, her big brown eyes get me every damn time. I’ve murdered for them. When I found out about her father and the sick fuck he was, I looked into her eyes and made my decision to kill him. He didn’t deserve to breathe another breath on this earth, and I made sure that he didn’t. When Dimitri had her in that fucking house, I killed for her then too, making sure she could sleep at night—so that I could sleep at night. I’d do it all over again, a million times, for her.

  “Wherever you wish. Another apartment. We have many, you know? Just like Kirill does. A hotel—wherever you wish,” I shrug.

  “We can go back to our old place, I’m just being silly,” she says with a wave of her hand.

  “You aren’t, and you wouldn’t have mentioned it if it didn’t bother you. This isn’t the first time, either. You’re apprehensive about going back there, and I’m not going to make you. We’ll go to The Mark,” I announce, ending the debate.

  “That’s too much,” she whispers as tears pool in her eyes. I don’t understand her tears. She’s been crying so much since I’ve been back, and I’m not used to it, at all.

  “Nyet, a few weeks of luxury for the way I’ve treated you is nothing,” I shrug. “Now, I do need to discuss safety precautions and things before we arrive,” I announce.

  She shifts in her seat and I want to laugh because she looks almost sick. She probably thinks I’m not going to allow her to go anywhere, but that is so far removed from the truth, it’s ridiculous.

  “You’ll have your own Byki at your disposal. He’ll escort you wherever you need to go, and you’ll let him, yes?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “Of course,” she nods.

  “Good. I would like for you to socialize with Sonia and her friends more often, if you feel comfortable with doing so. You’re to be my wife and the mother of my children. You’re important in the organization, and it’s important that you show to these lunches she’s always going on about,” I say.

  “Really?” she gasps. I watch as her mouth falls open slightly.

  It’s distracting. I have the urge to shove my cock down her throat again, but we don’t have the time.

  “Yes. They’ll be spa dates and shopping and whatever else you girls do. When we buy the house, Sonia is really the best person to help decorate it. Apparently, it’s a passion of hers, so Pasha’s told me. If you want to do it all on your own, that’s fine too; but be forewarned, I’m not going to get some little place. It’s going to be gigantic,” I grin, thinking about a couple of the listings I’ve seen online during my research.

  “This is all so much,” she whispers as her eyes dart around the cabin.

  I cup her cheek in my hand and brush my thumb along her bottom lip.

  “It’s not enough, and it should have happened years ago,” I mutter. I dip my head and brush my lips across hers.

  “Also, if you have the desire to finish your high school education, then we’ll look into that as well,” I rumble. I then watch as tears fall from her eyes yet again.

  “It’s as if you’ve plucked every single dream out of my mind and made them a reality,” she rasps.

  “Whatever you can dream up, pchelka, I’ll do my best to make it come to life,” I smile.

  The airplane door opens and I realize we’ve landed. Talking with Ashley was a great distraction, and I shake my head at the thought. I’m back in my town and I need to stay alert. Enemies will skulk around every corner and come out at you when you least expect it. Being alert is of the utmost importance.

  “I don’t know what else I have left to dream about,” she whispers before she stands and takes my outstretched hand.

  “A wedding and babies?” I ask, arching a brow.

  “Oh, yes, of course, but you’ve promised both of those things already.” She grins before she follows me down the steps and into the cool, New York breeze. “How about a lifetime of happiness?” she asks.

  “I’ve promised you that as well,” I grunt.

  “A lifetime of spectacular orgasms?” she grins.

  “That’s a given,” I rumble.

  Immediately, my mind goes back in time to just a few hours ago when she was screaming with her third orgasm.

  “Well, then, I guess I’ll have to get a little more creative with my dreams,” she laughs softly.

  “Yes, you do that,” I chuckle as we approach my waiting driver.

  The co-pilot deposits my bags in the trunk of the car and I usher Ashley into the backseat before I close the door and turn to my man. He’s a good driver, a good solider, and now he’s going to be entrusted with the most important part of my life. He’s going to be Ashley’s Byki.

  “Welcome home, boss,” he murmurs.

  “We’ll be heading to The Mark hotel this evening, Leo,” I announce. His eyes widen a bit and he nods once. “And you’ve been promoted to be my fiancée’s Byki.”

  “Sir?”

  “You’ll protect her with your life?” I ask.

  “Yes, sir, of course,” he nods.

  “Good. Then congratulations, Leonid, this comes with an additional pay raise,” I grin.

  I watch as his eyes light up at the thought of a raise. He’s a young husband with two babies at home. He needs the money, but he’s also proven his dedication, not only to the organization, but to me as well. I open the car door and slide in next to Ashley as he jogs to the driver’s side.

  Leonid starts the engine, and we’re soon on our way to the hotel. Tomorrow, it will be time for me to get back to work; but tonight, I’m going to order some room service and then fuck my Ashley until neither of us can move.

  THE MARK HOTEL IS beyond anything I have ever seen before in my life. I thought that living in Yakov’s luxurious apartment was amazing, but I could never fathom the awe grandeur of The Mark. The floors are a deep, rich, brown hardwood throughout the entire space, which includes a bedroom, living area, and foyer.

  The living area has a small table with chairs, a desk, and a sofa, along with side tables and lamps; plus, there’s a spectacular view of the city. The bedroom has an all-white linen bed with a royal blue plush velvet chair and ottoman in the corner, and a full sized dresser.

  The bathroom is my favorite part of the entire suite, though. It is all marble, from the floor to the countertops. There’s a double sink, a huge shower, and a tub that I’m dying to sink down into for a soak.

  “I don’t know if I can stay here for weeks on end,” Yakov mumbles as he throws his suitcase on the white comforter.

  I quickly remove it and place it on the floor next to the dresser.

  “You’ll get the bed dirty with your bag,” I murmur.

  “Who cares?” he grunts.

  “Just because it isn’t ours doesn’t mean we can’t respect it,” I point out. “What’s wrong with the room?

  “It’s too fucking small,” he grumbles.

  “The girl at the front desk said it was eleven hundred square feet. That’s bigger than my apartment in LA,” I say.

  “Yes, but we’re not in LA anymore, and this is small.”

  “You need a nap,” I mumble as I unpack his bag.

  Yakov doesn’t reply. Instead, he walks into the bathroom and closes the door. He’s in a bad mood. More than likely, it has nothing to do with the hotel suite, but more with the fact that we aren’t at the apartment. He isn’t in the comforts of his home, and we’re back in the city, which means he’ll have to get back to work.

  I finish unpacking his bag and my own by the time he emerges from the bathroom. He has a towel wrapped around his waist and his hair is dripping with water. I lick my lips at the sight of him. Freshly showered, his muscles on display.

  “I’m in a shit mood,” he admits.

  “That’s okay,” I nod.

  “Go fr
eshen up. We’ll rest and then later go out to dinner, yeah?” he murmurs.

  “We don’t have to go anywhere.”

  “I want to,” he grins as his hand lifts and wraps around the side of my neck. “We’ll have a nice night out before I have to get back into the swing of things. A sort of apology for my shit mood.” He announces, changing the plans we had set, to stay inside.

  “Is that why you’re in a bad mood?” I ask, arching my brow.

  “Definitely,” he grunts before his head dips and his lips press against mine. “I want to ignore work and spend my days in bed with you.”

  “Wouldn’t that be nice?” I whisper as I slide my hands up his smooth biceps and wrap them around his neck.

  “Go shower, yeah?” he grunts, squeezing my waist as he takes a step back from me.

  I don’t argue.

  After five hours and three orgasms on the airplane, I’m due for a shower.

  I carry my toiletries into the bathroom and give a lingering glance at the tub. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll have time to soak in it. Today, I’m just too tired and I fear I’ll fall sleep inside.

  Once I’m showered and dressed in a fresh pair of panties and a clean tank top cami, I open the bathroom door and start toward the bed. Yakov is already beneath a sheet and he grunts when he sees me.

  “Naked,” he states.

  I don’t argue. I’m too tired. I strip down completely naked and fall into bed. Yakov wraps his arms around me and pulls my back into his chest before he presses half of his body against mine.

  “I love you, Jacob,” I whisper.

  “Love you, pchelka,” he grunts, his breath hot against my ear.

  I close my eyes and fall asleep listening to his even breaths as they wash over my ear, over and over again.

  The days go by in a blur of waiting for Yakov to return home, and making love with him at all hours of the day and night. I’m completely at his mercy, and I’m feeling caged again.

  I can tell that the day-to-day routines are starting to become part of us, and they haven’t changed from months ago, before we went to LA.

  I look down at Yakov, my eyes roaming over his blue tinted tattoos, and I wonder if this is destined to be us, if this is just the way we’ll always be? Am I going to have to accept it as just the way our relationship is?

  Pinching my eyes closed, I lay down on his chest, listening to his deep, even breaths and hoping that it won’t always be this way. Hoping that this is a transition; that once we’re in our own home, everything he’s promised to me will be delivered.

  Tonight, we were supposed to go to dinner, a raincheck from weeks ago when we were too exhausted to leave the bed. It seems as though these broken promises may turn into broken dreams, and I hate that. I hate that I hoped so highly for him to change.

  I fall asleep listening to the cadence of his heartbeat, hoping that I didn’t make a mistake by choosing him over staying in California. That the things he promised me will turn into reality. I hope that they do. But my hope is wavering, and diminishing day by day.

  “They what?” I hear Yakov’s rumbling voice as it wakes me from my sleep.

  “Nyet, I’ll be there in about an hour. This is unacceptable,” he murmurs. I roll over, onto my back before turning my head, to face him.

  He’s going to be leaving me alone, I just know it. I’m sure that it’s for work, but I still hate it. He hangs up the phone and turns his head to look at me.

  “You’re leaving?” I ask.

  “We are, yes. Up and dressed, pchelka.”

  “We?” I ask in surprise.

  “Yeah, I promised you a dinner out and I’ve not delivered it. We’ll have it. I just have to stop somewhere on the way first,” he grins before he dips his head and presses his lips to mine.

  I’m sure the kiss was meant to be quick, but I wrap my hand around the back of his head to deepen it. I open my mouth and moan when his tongue enters and sweeps around mine. Unable to control myself, I whimper when his fingers pinch and then tug on my nipple.

  “I don’t have time to fuck you, Ashley. We need to get going,” he murmurs against my swollen lips.

  “Okay,” I breathe as I arch my back closer to him.

  “I’ll make it quick,” he grunts as he rolls his body so that his hips are fitted between mine.

  I moan when I feel his hardening cock slide between my center and gasp each time it grazes my clit.

  “Jacob,” I whisper.

  “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he mutters as his lips press against mine. He rears his hips back and slowly slides himself inside of me.

  “Lift your legs,” he rasps against my mouth.

  I do as he says and lift my legs, my knees bent and pressing against his ribs.

  “Stay just like that; don’t move,” he groans as his eyes roll in the back of his head.

  Yakov shifts and wraps his fingers in my hair at the side of my head before he pulls out and then glides back inside of me. I start to close my eyes, but his grip in my hair tightens and I return my focus back to his blue gaze. I watch as he bites down on his bottom lip, his nostrils flaring with each thrust, as if he’s trying to maintain absolute control and it’s the most difficult task in the word.

  It’s absolutely stunning.

  “Your pussy feels so wet, so warm, so fucking tight. Fucking hell, Ashley,” he groans.

  “Harder,” I whisper.

  It’s the first time I’ve ever asked him to do anything in the bedroom. I’ve only ever pleaded with him, but I feel more confident now than I ever have.

  “I should tell you no,” he chuckles. “But your request sounded so pretty coming off of your lips, I can’t help but give you what you desire. As I always will.”

  I gasp when his arms quickly move from my hair and wrap around the backs of my knees. Then he presses them down on each side of my head.

  Yakov rises to his knees and he thrusts hard and so unrelentingly inside of me, over and over again. His eyes stay glued to mine, with no expression, other than a cocky smirk on his lips as sweat drips from his forehead.

  I feel my belly quiver and my legs start to shake as my climax takes over my body.

  “Squeeze my cock, pchelka. Strangle me,” he growls as his movements become faster, harder, and less rhythmic.

  Then he stills, and with a roar, he comes inside of me. I brace for his weight and am not disappointed when he releases my legs and falls on top of me. He’s warm, heavy, and safe in and on me.

  “Do you think that made a baby?” he asks as his lips kiss the shell of my ear.

  “I don’t know,” I sigh.

  “You stopped taking your pills, yeah?”

  “I did,” I admit with a nod.

  I’ve been on birth control pills since the day Gregori took me. Never prescribed by a regular doctor, but by the doctor of the Bratva. He was a man who came to see me when I was first taken, and I’ve never seen him again since.

  The last doctor I saw was after my time spent in South Africa. It was also a Bratva doctor, but he was kinder, gentler, and I loved him immediately.

  “You need to see Dr. Pavlov, make sure all is well with you. I’ll send him round tomorrow while I’m at work, yeah?” he murmurs against the skin of my neck.

  “Yeah, okay,” I agree.

  “Now we need to get up and get ready. I need to meet with some of my guys before dinner.”

  “Okay,” I agree.

  I spend the next thirty minutes dressing, styling my hair, and then doing my makeup. I want to look nice for him. We’re going to be in public, in his city, and I don’t want to be an embarrassment to him.

  I dress in a short, emerald green dress. It is completely backless. It hits mid-thigh in length, but the front is fairly demure, showing just a bit of chest. The dress is held up by two thin straps that wrap around my shoulders.

  I wear my hair up in a thick bun and straighten my bangs so that they lay perfectly across my forehead. I slip into a pair of nude high heels that I use
d to only wear for work. They’re tall and sexy and make my legs look long and lean. I’m lucky that the only scars I bear are on my front so that I can at least show off my back when I want to.

  “You’re too sexy. Go change,” Yakov grunts as he walks into the bedroom from the living area.

  “Really?” I ask in surprise.

  “Yes, but no. You look very sexy and I know every man will be watching you tonight, but I don’t want you to change,” he says as he wraps his hand around my lower back, his fingers stroking my bare skin.

  “You won’t be embarrassed to have me at your side?” I ask, chewing on my glossy bottom lip.

  “That would be impossible, as you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve had there. Shall we?”

  I take his arm, feeling a bit better about my daring choice of dress, something that Emiliya and Tatyana talked me into when we went shopping on our relaxing spa day. Haleigh warned that though it was beautiful, she didn’t think Yakov would like the amount of skin I was showing. Needless to say, I was extremely nervous as I slipped it on this evening.

  Once we walk out of the lobby of the hotel and make our way toward the valet area, I am surprised to see Leonid waiting for us again.

  “Leo will drive us tonight,” Yakov announces.

  “Good evening,” I murmur as we arrive at the car.

  Leo doesn’t say anything, he never does. He dips his chin in acknowledgement as he opens the door for me. Yakov slides in right behind me and wraps his hand around my thigh as he settles into the seat. Leo slides in the car, and I’m surprised when we head toward Staten Island instead of going toward Brighton Beach in Brooklyn.

  “Why are we going this way? I thought you did your work in Brighton Beach?” I ask in confusion.

  “Who told you that?” he asks, gripping my thigh a little tighter.

  “Nobody. I just always heard Kirill discuss Brighton Beach. He never mentioned Staten Island.”

  “What was he discussing?” he asks suspiciously.

  “Nothing, really. It was my job to type up the contracts for purchases, and sometimes he’d have me do them for properties in Brooklyn. I just assumed that was where all the business was done, too,” I shrug.