I was stressed the fuck out. I came home and fucked her, knowing I was using her body for nothing other than my own selfish relief. My plans were as I’d said, to make it up to her when I woke up this morning. I reach out and cup her cheek in my hand, my eyes staying on her beautiful face.
“I was working, trying to find this fuck so that I can end this shit with your father. I was with Ustin, Ziven, and Timofei the entire night. There’s nobody else, lapochka. I swear to it,” I murmur as I slide my hand around to the back of her head, threading my fingers in her hair.
I hate to see tears fall from her eyes, but I can’t deny that seeing strong reactions from her about me—about us—it does something to me. Oksana is so fucking strong all of the time, but to see her vulnerabilities shine through to me, for me—it’s beautiful.
“Whose are they?” she asks. I close my eyes.
I know exactly who the owner of the panties she’s talking about is, but I’m not telling her. No way in fuck.
“Doesn’t matter,” I rumble as I scoot closer to her, pulling her down and rolling so that I’m halfway pinned on top of her, keeping her from moving.
“Maybe not to you, but I want to know,” she demands.
Oksana’s tears are now dry, and that fire is so fucking bright shining from her eyes. I’m afraid she’s going to ignite me just by looking at her.
“Belka,” I shrug. “She doesn’t matter.”
Oksana presses her lips together again, and I understand it as her trying to bite her tongue from speaking. She nods as if she’s agreeing to something inside of her head before she speaks. I wait for her, giving her the time that she needs.
“Will you see her again?” she asks, her voice weak and small.
“Nyet. You’re the only woman I need. How do you not know this by now?” I ask in all seriousness.
“I found those, and then you were gone all day, and we’re here now. We’re at your home and you were gone and I’m just… I’m scared.”
“Lapochka,” I sigh as I lower my head so that my lips press against hers. “Do not be frightened,” I whisper against her lips before I take her mouth.
Oksana wraps her fingers around my biceps and holds onto to me tightly, tighter than she ever has. It makes my chest ache. I’ve hurt her, my strong girl. I fucking hate that I made her sad, then fucked her body when she was already feeling hurt and alone, taking and giving nothing in return but heartache.
I nibble on her bottom lip before I move down and kiss her neck, her collarbone and then each of her breasts over her sleep tank. I suck one of her nipples into my mouth from over the top of her shirt, feeling it harden beneath the fabric as she arches closer to me. I fucking love it when she does that. I grab hold of her panties and tug them down her legs.
“Mikhail,” she gasps once I’m settled between her thighs and the head of my cock presses against her warm entrance.
I lift my head before I tug her top up and over her body, leaving her completely bare for me. With the head of my dick gliding along the seam of her wet pussy, her tits full and her nipples hard, her eyes are focused on me, her chest heaving with her heavy breaths as I take her in.
I don’t move, even when she reaches out for me. I refuse to give her what she wants, enjoying the way she’s looking up at me, raw with want and need.
“There’s nobody else. Not now, and not ever, Oksana,” I inform her.
She nods as she bites her bottom lip. I slowly sink inside of her as my fingers lace with hers, and I drag her hands up and hold them down against the mattress above her head as I fill her completely.
“Lift your legs,” I rumble.
Oksana does as I ask and lifts her legs so that her knees are against my ribs. It allows me to sink a little deeper. She shivers, but I don’t move. My eyes stay staring at hers, taking her in and waiting until she’s so ready for me to move, so on edge, that tears fill her eyes for a completely different reason than just a few moments ago.
“Please, Mikhail, move,” she whispers sweetly.
Goddamn, her sweet voice sends me to the edge. I have to bite back my groan as I feel close to taking her with all of my force again, and possibly hurting her further.
“Tell me you understand that you’re the only one, lapochka,” I demand.
Oksana’s eyes widen and her head jerks, but she doesn’t say anything. I want to move, but unlike her, I have patience and control in spades. My little Oksana has neither of those things, and that’s what I like about her. But that can also get her into trouble, so I’m teaching her a bit of a lesson. I squeeze her fingers and wait for her response.
“Okay,” she whispers.
“Nyet. Rasskazhi mne,” I bark, ordering her to tell me again.
“I’m the only one,” she whispers.
“Louder,” I growl as I pull out of her slowly, until the only part of my cock inside of her is the head.
“I’m the only one,” she says a little louder.
“I want you to show me you believe it, lapochka.”
“I don’t know what you want from me,” she cries out.
I slam inside of her and watch as her tits bounce with the force of my hips. Fuck. I repeat the motion and she groans, that is until I pull out almost completely again.
“Mikhail,” she snaps.
“Show me, woman. Don’t just tell me, believe it for yourself,” I demand.
“I’m the only one. Just me, only me,” she screams.
I move one of my hands so that I can press my thumb against her clit, and then I fuck her.
I don’t do it hard, careful not to bring her pain, but I’m relentless. I don’t stop moving my thumb or thrusting inside of her until her thighs shake next to my ribs and her back arches as she cries out with her climax. Only then do I allow myself to come inside of her.
“Believe it, Oksana. It’s only you, lapochka, moya vozlyublennaya.”
“Your sweetheart?” she asks, her soft lips brushing my ear as I inhale the scent of her skin at her neck.
“Yeah,” I grunt. “Moya vozlyublennaya.”
“Mika,” she breathes as her arms and legs wrap around me tightly. Her pussy squeezes me, and I groan at the tight glove of her cunt around my cock.
“I leave for work today, you’ll be okay?” I ask, lifting my head from her neck to look into her eyes.
“I’ll be okay. But Mika, I have to go to the store,” she whispers as her stomach growls.
My eyebrows knit together, and I feel like fucking shit. I left her here for an entire day with no food. I press my lips to hers and then slide my tongue inside of her warm mouth as my cock grows hard inside of her again. I shift my hips and start to fuck her gently, my thrusts so slow and tender as I take her.
“I’m sorry I left you with no food, lapochka. I got tied up with work,” I say.
I know I’m repeating myself, but I feel like shit. I should never leave my woman without, no matter what it is. She deserves everything, and it’s my job to provide it for her. I’m already fucking up.
“It’s fine,” she says as her voice catches and she lifts her legs higher.
I wrap my fingers around the backs of her knees and I spread her thighs. Lifting them a bit higher, I hold them open while I continue with my gentle thrusts into her warm, tight cunt. I can feel that she’s climbing closer toward her release. Her body starts to tremble, and her eyes flutter closed as I continue, never breaking my pace.
“It’s not,” I point out.
“Mikhail, stop talking about it,” she whispers.
“You gonna come all over me? Squeeze my cock? Drain my balls, and take my seed? Hmm?” I ask as a pink flush breaks out over her face and chest.
“Mika,” she hisses as her eyes pop open.
I grin down at her and flex my fingers around the backs of her knees, making her roll her eyes.
A few thrusts later, as if she wasn’t expecting it, her eyes pop open and her entire body goes rigid as her pussy clamps down around me hard, almost pa
infully.
I pound inside of her squeezing cunt until I come, for the second time in less than an hour, and it drains my balls as well as my energy. I collapse on top of her.
This is where I belong.
Inside of my wife, her warm, wet pussy wrapped around my cock, her fingers gently stroking my back, and my face buried in her neck, inhaling her sweaty scent, a scent that’s mixed with her, me and sex.
I STRETCH AND GROAN at the way my sore body protests. Mika really fucked the absolute hell out of me, three times. I can’t stop the smile that forms on my lips at his apology fuck—which, let’s face it, that’s what the last one was. It was so gentle and tender, and I came with a shock out of the freaking blue.
Rolling over, I’m surprised to find the bed empty. I make my way to the bathroom and take care of business before I find his shirt from yesterday on the floor and pull it over my naked body, buttoning the front closed as I make my way into the bright living room.
Mika is standing in the kitchen, completely dressed, with grocery bags lining the countertop. I watch in shock for a few moments as he puts groceries away. He stops when he turns to face me and grins in my direction.
“I didn’t want to wake you, and I have to get back to work in a couple hours,” he announces. “There’s a coffee for you, moya vozlyublennaya.”
I blush at him calling me his sweetheart and scoot closer to the counter, where I see a café coffee waiting for me. I hum in excitement when I take the first sip of the warm, sweet liquid. Once the first sip has hit my belly, I open my eyes and look around the counter. There’s enough food here to feed the entire Bratva, and I wonder who is going to cook and eat it all.
“Who is going to eat all of this, Mikhail?” I blurt out.
He lifts his head and gives me a wide smile.
“I had nothing, lapochka. I had Quinn and Ziven come with me after her class, and they helped me gather everything a house needs. I don’t know about cooking or anything, so they just threw shit in,” he shrugs.
“I don’t know how to cook, either,” I admit. “I mean, I can make the basics, but my mama did all the cooking. Nobody went into her kitchen, not ever,” I say, shaking my head slightly.
“Then you can learn. You have all the shit to learn with now,” he chuckles.
“Speaking of learning and things, is there a computer I can use?” I ask.
“For?”
“Leonie wanted to look up orphanages, and I also thought I could try and find some recipes that were easy enough for me to handle without screwing up too badly,” I laugh.
“Oh, yeah. You can use my laptop; but Oksana, I don’t want you going to any orphanages until I handle this shit with your dad, yeah?”
I think about his request. Instinctually, I want to argue with him, but then I think about the fact that Konstantin took me, and who knows what else my father has hidden up his sleeve. Also, I know Mika has to do something, and it’s dangerous, to get my papa off of his back. The last thing I need is for him to be distracted and worried about me. So, instead of arguing with him, I nod in agreement.
“Okay. But I want to at least research it,” I offer.
“That sounds good, lapochka.”
I sit on a barstool and enjoy the view of him putting the rest of the groceries away, wishing that he wasn’t going to be leaving soon, but also kind of glad. He wore me out completely. I’m still exhausted from his virility.
“I’ll send Leonie up after I leave, yeah?” he asks as he puts the last item away.
“I need to shower. I smell,” I murmur, wrinkling my nose.
Mika walks up to my side and slides his hand around my waist as his nose inhales my neck deeply. I try to push him away, but his arm flexes and keeps me close.
“You smell fucking perfect,” he rumbles.
“I smell like sex,” I deadpan.
“You smell like you, and me, and lots of sweaty sex—fucking perfect,” he chuckles.
“Mikhail,” I exhale, rolling my eyes to the sky before they meet with his dancing ones.
“You do. Fucking perfect,” he whispers before his lips press against mine.
“I’m taking a shower,” I announce. He smiles.
“You’ll just end up smelling the exact same way again after I get home tonight.”
“Oh, yeah?” I ask, arching a brow.
“Yeah,” he grunts.
“I look forward to it,” I whisper before I press my lips to his.
“Get some rest this afternoon and evening,” he grins. “It’s probably going to be a late night for me again, but I’ll be home when I can, yeah?”
“Okay,” I nod.
“Go get clean,” he murmurs as I slide off of my barstool and walk toward the bedroom to do just as he’s ordered.
I place my hand on my stomach as the butterfly’s flutter around just thinking about what’s to come later. I don’t care that I’m sore or that I’m exhausted.
I can’t wait for later.
The flight will take six and a half hours one way. Luckily, we don’t have to fly commercial, or it would be around eleven hours, doubling our time. Just the thought of being cooped up with a whole plane of strangers gives me anxiety. Ziven pulls out a roll of paper, and I’m shocked when he unrolls them to reveal house and grounds plans.
“What’s this?” I ask, studying the large impressive plans in front of me.
“El Patron’s house and estate blue prints,” Ziven chuckles. “Oliver is a fucking badass.”
“No shit,” I agree in awe.
“It’ll be easier to plan our attack if we are familiar with the grounds and the house. That’s not to say that he didn’t make modifications after he had the plans drawn up. To be quite frank, he probably did,” Ziven says. I nod my head in agreement.
“There has to be escape tunnels all under that place,” Timofei murmurs as he takes in the plans.
“You think?” I ask.
“I know. My papa has them in his house. They connect to the house next door,” he says.
“And he has cameras,” Ziven rumbles. “But Oliver is the biggest badass we know. He’s already tapped into them. He says their firewalls are shit. He also says he can control them from where he is in California. He’s already assured me that he can play them on a loop for as long as we need, so we won’t be detected,” Ziven explains.
“Alicia said that when she lived there, Diego spent his evenings in his basement and then in the master bedroom after he put his slaves to bed,” I explain.
“How did she know what he did after she went to bed?” Ustin asks.
“She was his main slave. She said her place was next to him in bed. This was after he put the other slaves in their rooms,” I explain.
“He’s one sick fuck,” Timofei grinds out.
“He’ll be one dead sick fuck in a couple days’ time,” I grunt.
“Kirill is sending us some men. They should arrive tomorrow afternoon sometime,” Ziven murmurs.
“How many will we have total?” I ask, feeling a little uneasy about going into Cartel country and taking down their leader.
“Fifty men, completely armed,” Ziven nods.
“I don’t know if it’s enough,” I say, worrying my lip.
“We’re better trained then they are. Five of their highly-trained men’s abilities equals one of our men. They could have two hundred and fifty men and we would still prevail,” Ziven says, his voice sharp and penetrating.
“When do we leave?” I ask as my stomach tightens with worry.
I’ve never had a mission this personal or this important in my entire life. When I went to South Africa to rescue Yakov’s woman, Ashley, it wasn’t personal. Sure, when I saw her, broken and hurt, something inside of me called to her; but until then, it had just been another job.
Now, this is my woman; this is her safety. If this mission fails, then she could be taken from me.
“The men come from California tomorrow afternoon, so we’ll leave the day after
tomorrow, first thing in the morning,” Ziven murmurs.
“We have enough weapons?”
“Kirill is sending weapons with the men; an arsenal, if I’m not mistaken. Plus, we aren’t lacking. We’ll be okay,” Ziven assures me. “Let’s take inventory, then we have collections.”
It doesn’t take us long to take weapons inventory, and then the rest of the day is spent collecting money from our men, their contributions from debt, drug, whore, and weapon sales, drinking, and enjoying the evening with the men themselves.
It’s after two in the morning when I finally make my way back to Oksana. The condo is quiet when I stumble inside. I’m drunk but not trashed, my mind anxious and filled with worry.
In truth, I don’t know what the day after tomorrow will bring. I don’t know if I’ll be victorious and able to deliver the severed head of Diego Pineda to Pasha. What worries me the most is that I made Pasha a deal, and a Bratva man’s word is his bond. If I don’t deliver, I’ll have no choice but to let him take Oksana from me, grant a divorce or annulment, and watch her marry another man.
Walking into the bedroom, I see her. Oksana is curled into a ball, her eyes closed and her chest rising and falling. The light spilling from the bathroom is just enough that I can make out every single line of her body. My cock goes rock hard when my eyes land on her lips, puffed out slightly with each exhale of her breath. She’s breathtaking, as always, even in sleep.
I stand frozen, trying to soak her in, wondering if it will be one of the last times I ever see her or have her in my bed. If I lose her, if she’s taken from me, I don’t know that I’ll survive it.
She’s mine.
She’s been mine since the first time I kissed her. The second I slid inside of her tight cunt, there was nobody else but her for me.
Nobody.
“Come to bed, Mikhail,” she sighs as her eyelids flutter open.
“How long have you been awake?” I ask as I tug off my jacket, then start to unbutton my shirt.
“Just a minute. I felt someone creepy staring at me,” she rasps before a smile tips her lips.
Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7) Page 16
