Quirking a brow at him, I wait a moment before I choose to speak. “Your power? Who said I wanted your power? You have a son, Kirill. A son who can take over your territory when he’s old enough. Why would I even assume that it would ever be mine?”
“Get the fuck out,” he seethes.
I stand, uncertain as to what his problem is. There is more to what is happening than he’s letting on. I shake my head once, leaning over the table. “You decide you want to be forthright with me, on those terms. Then, maybe my decision will change. But as it stands, I cannot sign that contract the way it is, and you know this. No man would.”
Turning from him, I leave before I give him the opportunity to respond. Once I’m outside, a hand wraps around my elbow to halt my quick strides. Turning around, I’m surprised to see Maxim standing there. Timofei and Bronislav are closing in behind him.
“He is not right,” he points out.
Placing my hands on my hips, I tip my head back to look at the sky. “I’ve seen not right, Pasha was not right. Kirill is something else, he’s concerned, overly so and there is a reason, but he isn’t sharing,” I mutter.
Maxim nods. “I agree. Whatever it is, I don’t think even Tatyana knows about it.”
Letting out an exhale, I speak and when I do I lay down everything for him. “I love Kiska. I’m not leaving LA without her. If it makes an enemy out of Kirill, then so be it. I know that I have Sergei’s approval. Regardless of how Kirill feels, she’s mine.”
“You aren’t thinking with your head, he could have you killed,” Maxim states.
I can’t stop the smirk. “He could try, but I doubt he would get it done. That contract, part of it proves he wants Kiska happy. He knows that I’ll make her happy, he won’t kill me. He isn’t a fucking lunatic like Pasha.”
I look to Timofei and give him an apologetic glance by referring to his father. His response is a shrug. It’s been a while, but what happened with his father will leave a scar on him and the Bratva for a lifetime.
“Let’s be smart about this,” Maxim murmurs.
I shake my head, done with this conversation. “When do we leave for New York?” I ask ignoring Maxim and turning my focus back to Timofei.
“Tomorrow morning, nine,” he answers.
Giving him a nod, I turn my gaze back to Maxim. “Kiska and I will be on that plane. Contract or none. I won’t run away from Kirill to Russia, or anywhere else to hide. However, I will take my woman home with me. New York is our home. If he doesn’t like it, he can go fuck himself.”
I walk away from the group of men, hearing their voices behind me as I make my way to the waiting car. I don’t give a fuck anymore. Kiska is mine. I tried to play by his rules, but he’s making it impossible. It isn’t lost on me that there very well could be something larger at play here.
However, if we’re supposed to be family, he should tell me. I’m not an unreasonable man, I am however not going to just roll over and allow him to try and micromanage my marriage. Life doesn’t work that way, Bratva life sure as fuck doesn’t work that way, either.
I feel like I’ve been waiting by the window for hours. I feel pathetic, but I don’t care. Konstantin promised he’d come for me today. I wonder if he signed a contract, if he and my father came to terms. I’m nervous. I want to go home to New York. I want to get back into the routine we had begun. Dance and each other. I loved it, and I miss it.
My father walks through the door and slams it closed behind him. I flinch at the sound, my hand automatically flying up to my bruised cheek. His eyes scan over to me, and he stares for a second, showing zero emotion. I suck in a breath when he makes his way over to me, stopping just a few feet away. Tipping my head back to look into his eyes, I wait for him to speak.
“Your Konstantin is stubborn,” he states. “This will not go well for you unless you bend to his will, something I do not see you doing,” he continues. “He refused to sign the contract I had drawn up for him.”
“What does that mean?” I breathe.
He laughs, but it sounds hollow. “It means you go with your second choice for a husband. I need you taken care of,” he states.
“Why do you need this so badly, Kirill. What is happening?” My mother’s voice rings out from the hall. “You’re hiding something from me, from us, and I want to know what exactly is going on.”
My brows furrow as I watch my mother walk into the room. She looks scared, her eyes filled with unshed tears. I think back to the time my father took me from New York just a few weeks ago, until now. When I have seen him, which hasn’t been often, he has seemed more on edge than normal. Plus, when he struck me, that was completely out of character for him to do to me or his other children.
“It’s nothing,” he lies. I can tell it’s a lie just as my mother can.
She shakes her head and crosses her arms under her breasts. “Tell me, now,” she demands.
My father hangs his head and wraps his hand around the back of his neck. When he lifts his eyes, they’re watery, and I can’t contain my gasp. “I have prostate cancer,” he chokes out.
“Kirill,” my mom breathes and reaches out, grabbing ahold of the chair at the kitchen island to hold herself up.
I can’t do anything but stupidly stare at him. The words he’s said play on a loop inside of my head and I just sit on the sofa, unmoving. “I will start radiation next month. I need Kiska married, and I need her taken care of, and I need this to happen with a man that I can count on to run my territory if I have the need.”
My mother’s lips tremble, so forcefully that I can see them from across the room. “Fuck your territory, Kirill. Fuck it. I care about you, Kiska cares about you. Fuck the territory. Maxim and Radimir can handle whatever comes from the Bratva,” my mother whispers.
“You don’t—”
My mother holds her hand up, not allowing him to continue, or he closes his lips because he respects and loves her too much to interrupt her. Whatever the case, he shuts the fuck up.
“I do not give a flying fuck about the Bratva. I care about you, Kirill. I love you. Your family loves you. How long have you been hiding this from us?”
My father doesn’t speak. I watch as he stomps past me to my mother, wraps her in his arms and carries her down the hall toward their bedroom. My spine stiffens when I hear their bedroom door slam. The kids are at school, and I’m glad that all of this came out now, instead of when they were home.
Cancer.
It’s a dirty word—the filthiest.
Leaving my spot on the sofa, I walk back to my bedroom. I power on my laptop, and I start to research prostate cancer. It doesn’t take me long to feel a little better about the situation. Although I don’t know what stage my father’s is at yet, until I talk to him, from everything I’ve read this could be okay—he could be okay for a long time.
My window slowly slides up, and I watch as Konstantin throws one leg over, and then the other, climbing through. I almost giggle, but my heart is too shattered to do that.
“Sladkaya, what the fuck?” he asks as soon as his eyes meet mine. I watch as he hurries across the room and sinks down in front of me. I look down into his dark eyes, and that’s when the tears finally flow.
“Talk to me,” he softly demands.
Lifting my hand, I wrap it around his cheek, feeling his warm skin before I speak. “I just found out my father has prostate cancer,” I whisper.
Konstantin’s eyes close, and he lets out a long exhale. “That’s why,” he breathes.
“Why what?” I demand.
“The contract he wanted me to sign. It didn’t make sense,” he shakes his head. “I questioned him and he got irrationally angry about it. We had words.”
I nod with understanding. “He thinks that I have to marry someone who can take care of his territory if something happens to him. He and my mother just got into it. My mom thinks Maxim and Radimir can handle the territory, she also said fuck the Bratva,” I whisper.
Konstantin
lets out a low chuckle. “Your mom is right, on both accounts. Maxim and Radimir are capable and good men, loyal men to your father. And, fuck the Bratva, his concerns should be his health.”
“I love you, Konny,” I exhale.
KONSTANTIN’S EYES BRIGHTEN BEFORE he leans forward and presses his lips to mine. They’re warm and soft, and he tastes like home. I’ve missed his kiss, and I moan when his hands slide up the outsides of my thighs. I’ve missed his touch too—so much. His fingers grip my panties, and I gasp when he shreds them.
“I need you,” he murmurs against my lips.
Without hesitation, I lay back against my bed. I expect him to crawl over me, but he doesn’t. His hands wrap around the insides of my thighs, and he spreads my legs open. “Baby,” I breathe. His mouth touches my pussy, and I let out a groan.
Konstantin’s tongue fills my center, my fingers fisting his hair immediately. His fingers dig into my flesh, and I close my eyes, welcoming the slight pain. His tongue swirls around my clit before he flicks it. I lift my hips in search for more. Konstantin’s teeth graze my clit, and I let out a sigh. I’ve missed his rough nature.
“Please, Konny, please,” I beg, unsure of what I’m actually begging for.
Konstantin groans against my pussy and one of his hands leaves my inner thigh, moving around to the outer and lands hard against me with a slap.
“Yes,” I hiss.
Then before I realize what’s happening, he’s standing and pulling his clothes off, his belt coming off first. That he keeps in his hand the entire time he undresses. I hurry and do the same, pulling the sundress I had put on earlier off, along with my bra.
“Go get me two scarves,” he demands, his voice low and deep.
I roll off of the bed and sprint to my closet. It only takes me a second to find two scarves, one is pink and the other is black. I practically throw them at Konstantin before I crawl back onto the bed. I need him. I’m so worked up, so on edge that if he doesn’t touch me, if he doesn’t make me come soon I’m going to have to take matters into my own hand, and I will.
“Lay down, sladkaya,” he murmurs.
I do as he’s requested, and lay down on my back. He picks up my leg, wrapping his fingers behind my knee at the same time his other hand grabs ahold of my wrist and gently tugs my arm down. When my forearm and thigh meet, he begins to wrap one of the scarves around it, tying it tightly, but not hurting me. He repeats the move on the other side until I’m bound, my legs spread for him.
Konstantin reaches for my breasts and gently twists my hardened nipples, giving them a rough tug which only makes me whimper with need. He does it again and again, sending shots of desire straight to my pussy. I need his touch, I ache for it, my pussy throbs for it.
Just when I think he’s going to alleviate my want, he leans over and sucks one of my breasts into his mouth as hard and as deeply as he can. His teeth sink into my skin.
“Oh God,” I moan trying to roll my hips to find friction and relief.
He won’t allow it though, he keeps every part of him away from my pussy. He releases my breast and then does the exact same thing to the other. He’s never taken time like this before, he’s never hurt me like this before, and I love it.
Konstantin stands, his eyes connected to mine and a grin on his lips. “Your tits will bear my marks. Always,” he rasps. I watch as he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself in front of me. “Now, for your pussy to remember its owner.”
I don’t hold back my moan, it’s impossible. He crawls onto the bed, his head tipped down, and his hand still around the base of his dick. I watch, and he watches, as he slowly guides himself inside of me. I sigh once he’s fully seated inside of me.
“I missed this,” he admits, pressing his lips against my mouth.
I fist my hands together, wishing I could reach out to touch him. “I missed everything about you,” I exhale.
He pulls completely out of me, and I let out a gasp when he wraps his hands around the backs of my thighs and pushes my legs farther. My knees are on either side of my head as he reenters me. The angle is uncomfortable, the pain a low dull ache throughout my entire body.
“Relax your body for me, sladkaya,” he rasps.
I exhale, closing my eyes for a moment and let my entire body relax. When I do, his cock falls just a little deeper inside of me. “Next time I fuck you like this, I’ll be balls deep inside of your sweet ass, Kiska,” he whispers.
My entire body shivers at the thought of him inside of me that way. We’ve played, and I loved it, now I want it all. My pussy pulses at the thought and Konstantin chuckles. “You’re my dirty girl, aren’t you, Kiska? You like the pain I give you, don’t you?” he asks with a groan.
“Yes, God yes, I love it. Hurt me, baby,” I cry out unabashedly. He shushes me, but I’m too caught up in him, in the way he makes me feel to care right now.
When his hand wraps around the front of my throat, I let out a moan. He fucks me, he fucks me with all that he has, hard and fast. I take it all, unable to move even an inch, welcoming his hard, painful thrusts.
My body starts to shake as he releases my leg with his other hand and starts to rub, quick and hard against my clit. My eyes open wide as my orgasm jolts through me. Konstantin doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow, he continues with his brutal pace, his eyes never leaving mine.
“Take me,” he grunts. “Fuck, sladkaya. So good,” he groans.
I watch as sweat beads form on his forehead and then as though he can’t control himself he lets out a long groan as his head flies back and he fills me with his release. Before I can even take a breath, he has the scarves untied and his arms wrapped around me, his cock still buried deep inside.
“I love you, Kiska,” he rasps against my neck, his lips and tongue tasting my skin.
Wrapping my arms and legs around him tightly, I whisper the question that’s been on my mind since my father’s cancer announcement. “What now?”
Konstantin lifts his head and looks into my eyes, focusing completely on me. “We’ll figure it out, sladkaya. Whatever you want, we will figure it out,” he murmurs. “Together.”
“Together,” I whisper in agreement.
I watch her dress. The act simple enough, and yet, I didn’t think that I would see it again. She pulls the dress over her head, and I’m mesmerized by the way it falls over her ass. It isn’t tight, a loose flowy fabric, but I know what she looks like beneath it.
When I snuck into her room just an hour ago, I imagined the outcome of this moment so much differently. I was going to carry her out of here, take her back to New York and never look back. Now, knowing a portion of Kirill’s diagnosis, I know that I cannot do that.
“You’re staring,” she whispers as she tugs her dress down over her bra covered breasts.
My eyes stay glued to her tits, knowing they bear my mark. Fuck. It’s pretty too, and I can’t wait until I leave more on her, on her ass and thighs especially. “I haven’t been able to look at you over the past few weeks, I’m enjoying just watching,” I shamelessly admit.
Once she’s completely covered, I stand and walk over to her, my hand automatically fisting in the back of her hair to hold her tightly. Tipping her head to the side, I press my lips against hers. I own her heart, this woman of mine. I own her body as well. One day, I will own her in name, too. But it will be on my terms—on our terms—not her father’s.
I release her and wrap my hand around the doorknob, twisting it with a heavy sigh. Tonight will assuredly be a difficult one. I’m sure Kirill will be angry with me, and yet, I know that I am doing the right thing. Sometimes that means angering people you care about. Slipping my hand in Kiska’s, I tug her behind me down the hall until we are in the living room.
“What’s this?” Tatyana asks with wide eyes. Her face is splotchy, no doubt from tears and she looks tired.
Kiska takes a breath behind me, but I don’t allow her to speak. “Maxim, Radimir, and their women are on their way ov
er, along with Timofei and Yakov,” I state.
“He doesn’t wish this. Konstantin, he will be furious,” she breathes.
Shaking my head, I lift my eyes to meet hers. “I don’t care. It is the right thing to do. Then, we will have a family discussion on what will happen next, but they need to know. They are his allies, his trusted friends. They need to know.”
“Please, don’t—”
“They need to know, Konstantin is right,” Kirill states as he walks from the hall into the living room.
Kiska stands to my side, and her hand squeezes mine so tightly that I’m afraid she’ll break it. “Tell me the diagnosis. I need to know everything,” she announces.
Kirill starts to explain about his cancer, that it isn’t the worst-case scenario, but it isn’t the best either. He explains that his doctor has suggested radiation, but after some of his own research he’s going to get a second opinion. Kiska sags a little once she hears that, as though the second opinion gives her a little more hope for the situation. All I know is he has cancer, cancer is cancer, it’s going to be a tough road regardless.
The doorbell rings and our conversation ceases. I look over to Tatyana who is on the phone, then down to Kiska in confusion. “She’s ordering food, we’re having a party apparently,” she shrugs.
Kiska breaks away from me and greets all of the men and women who are beginning to file into the home. I watch her from across the room, content to just gaze upon her as she starts to greet the children. It’s obvious since she’s been here that she hasn’t seen them, they’re all extra exuberant to gather her attention.
“It’s bad. isn’t it?” Maxim asks, stepping up to my side.
My eyes shift to him, but he’s watching his wife and children as they stand with Kiska, Emiliya and her children. “Yeah, it’s fucking bad,” I admit.
“Fuck,” he hisses.
“But, it’s not the end of the world. I think that all will be okay,” I shrug, feeling awfully optimistic.
Chosen by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 9) Page 22
