Bought by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 10)

by Hayley Faiman

  Quickly, I crawl onto the bed, my ass facing him as I lower the front of my body down and spread my thighs apart. I stay quiet, unwilling to say another word in order to avoid completely ruining the entire evening.

  When I feel Aidan’s thick cock press against my center, I let out an involuntary whimper. Slowly, he sinks inside of me. Letting out a breath, I force myself to relax and adjust to his size. His fingers grip my hips and hold me tightly.

  Without a word or a warning, he pulls almost completely out of me before he slams back inside. I let out a yelp at the movement, but it doesn’t matter, he quickly does it again. His thrusts are fast, hard, and relentless as he fucks me.

  Closing my eyes, I force myself to relax, forcing the tension to leave my body. Aidan takes from me, he takes from my body, blindly fucking me as hard and as fast, as he can. I grasp the bedding beneath me as I accept his punishing moves.

  I don’t know if he’s pissed that I asked what he called me, or if he’s pissed at himself, or if he just had a bad day and needs a rough fuck to release his own tension. I don’t know enough to gauge anything about him.

  So, I keep my eyes closed, and I accept. The sound of his skin slapping against mine fills the room, drowning out my relaxation playlist. I bite my bottom lip, trying not to let out the whimper that is threatening to escape me. He’s being so rough, I’m not used to it anymore.

  It’s been so long since a man treated my body the way his is right now. It hurts. I know that I can’t say anything though, Madam Carmella’s rules clearly state that only if life and limb are in danger do you attempt to stop your client from his desires. Tears prick my eyes and I pinch them closed tighter, trying to keep them from falling, but I fail.

  A slap sounds against my ass, I vaguely feel it, my mind drifting away, attempting to block out the pain. It happens again, and again, his hand landing hard against my ass cheeks as he fucks me. I don’t feel any of it though, not right now. I will later tonight and tomorrow, but right now my mind is not in this moment.

  Aidan stills inside of me, and off in the distance I hear him grunt. His fingers grip me even tighter, and then he begins fucking me again, except this time it’s slower, gentler, and that’s how I know he’s come and it’s almost over. He’ll be gone in a few moments, and when he leaves, I can cry—again.

  AIDAN

  I roll over onto my back next to Giovanna. Last time I was here, I fucked and ran. I felt something about doing that, I didn’t like it. If this is going to be an ongoing thing, I feel like I should get to know her, even if it is just a little bit. Glancing over at her, I watch as she slowly lowers onto her belly. She turns her head away from me, but I don’t know why.

  Shifting her hair off of her back, I turn to my side, pressing my lips against her shoulder, then her neck. “Giovanna,” I murmur.

  She doesn’t move, and she’s holding her body rigid. “Giovanna,” I say a bit sharper. Slowly, she turns her head and I’m surprised to see that she has tear stained cheeks. “What’s this?” I ask, tracing the wetness with my fingertips.

  “Nothing,” she says, the lie coming far easier than it should from her.

  I shake my head once, trailing my fingers down her spine to her lower back. “I hurt you,” I state. Her eyes soften, but she doesn’t make a move to agree, nor disagree, with my statement.

  Closing my eyes, I feel a pang of regret. I was rougher than I’ve ever been. Not because it was something I craved or needed, but because I was fucking pissed off with myself. A rùnsearc. How could I be so stupid as to give a prostitute a term of endearment like that?

  I know absolutely nothing about her, and yet, she is just that—my treasure. I haven’t been able to keep my mind off of her. She has begun to consume me. I stayed away for almost three days, but I don’t think that I could do that again.

  I want her. I want to keep her for my own. It’s stupid, and I feel stupid for even thinking it. Opening my eyes, I lean forward and press my lips to her cheek.

  “I apologize for hurting you, A rùnsearc,” I rasp. “It wasn’t my intention.”

  She closes her eyes tightly, inhaling a deep breath, then letting it out before she speaks. “There is no need to apologize for anything, Aidan. I wasn’t expecting it. I am now, so it’s okay,” she says, giving me a smile. The smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and I fucking hate it. I also hate her words. She’s so goddamn compliant.

  Reaching out with my opposite hand, I fist her hair and tug it back, forcing her to turn her head a little more and look directly into my eyes. “Tell me if I hurt you, Giovanna. Don’t just take pain from me unless that is what we’re doing,” I announce. “I will give you pain at times, and I’ll expect you to take it. However, that is not what this was. You have to communicate with me.”

  “I’m sorry, but no,” she breathes. I wait a beat. Unbelieving that she is telling me no, that she won’t communicate her pain if I’ve unintentionally hurt her. She sucks in a ragged breath before she continues to speak. “It is not my place to communicate with you, Aidan. It is my place to please you. Nothing more, nothing less.”

  I jerk from her words, my fingers tightening in her hair, holding my grip firm and steady as I stare into her black eyes. The longer I look, the less black they appear. No, they’re dark blue, so dark that at first glance they appear black. “Your eyes are blue,” I dumbly point out.

  “They are.” She nods.

  Frowning, I release her hair, but I don’t release her gaze from my own. “You must communicate with me, Giovanna. I don’t care what your rules are, what you’ve been taught. I am not some client who is here today and gone tomorrow. That is not what we have here.”

  “What do we have?” she asks.

  I sense a smart assed tone, but she is just looking at me with a doe-eyed expression. She’s good at covering up, and it is a spectacular trait in my lifestyle, but not one I enjoy in my bedroom. Fallon thought that she was good at covering shit, too, she wasn’t. I have a feeling that Giovanna could run circles around her.

  “You are exclusive to me, Giovanna. I want to know you, and I wish for you to know me. I would like us to be comfortable around one another,” I say gently.

  She blinks, pressing her lips together in a line, the only crack to her otherwise extremely cool exterior. Her blue eyes drop, then lift back to my own. “What do you wish to know, Aidan?”

  “If I’ve hurt you?”

  She nods, her eyes filling with tears. “You did,” she admits, her voice barely above a whisper.

  I cup her cheek with my hand and lean forward. My lips barely brush hers. The first time our lips have ever touched, and they feel spectacular against my own. I vow to myself, and silently to her, that it will be the last time I cause her physical pain without her consent. Lying back on the bed, I pull her against my chest, and I hold her.

  Giovanna rests her head against my neck, and we both inhale a deep breath before we let it out. We stay like this, me holding onto her, and her bare body pressed against my own, for at least an hour. It is the most relaxed, and most calm, that I’ve felt in years—maybe even in my life. I’m not sure who this woman is or how she was procured just for me, but I’m glad that she was.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  GIOVANNA

  I wake up with a start. Sitting straight up in bed, I look around. I’m completely naked beneath the sheets, and alone. The chaise lounge is empty of Aidan’s clothes, and when I reach out to the side of the bed, I find that it’s cold to the touch. I know that he held me last night, but I must have fallen asleep in his arms. My eyes slide closed and I shake my head.

  Stupid. Stupid girl. Never sleep in your own bed with them. Never get comfortable with them. Never allow them in.

  It is as if all of Madam Carmella’s teachings fly completely out of the window as soon as Aidan walks through my bedroom door. I curse myself and hate myself a little for allowing it. Lying back down I roll to the side and notice that there is something on the nightstand sticking out fr
om beneath my phone.

  Reaching for the object, my fingers touch a piece of paper. With a frown, I bring it toward me. The words are small, and without my reading glasses, I know that I’ll never be able to decipher them. Touching my nightstand again, I open the drawer and pull out my black-rimmed glasses. I love them, and I think they look awesome on my face, but Madam Carmella always told me that I should never show a flaw, do not show a weakness, so no client has ever seen them.

  Tucking the sheet beneath my arms, I pick the note up again.

  GIOVANNA,

  MY SINCEREST APOLOGIES FOR BEING TOO ROUGH. I WILL UNDERSTAND IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO SEE ME AGAIN.

  REST WELL,

  — AIDAN

  His penmanship is small and neat, level and precise. Folding the paper back up, I slip it into the drawer of my side table and place my glasses on top as well. Slipping from the bed, I walk into the bathroom and decide to draw a warm Epsom salt bath.

  I ache, not just my center either, my entire body aches. I don’t bother looking at myself in the mirror, I’m too afraid of what might be staring back at me.

  When the warm water has filled the tub, I test it with my toe just as my phone begins to ring. Hurrying back over to the bed, I reach for it, snatching it from the side table and sliding my thumb across the screen without looking at the name. I assume that it’s Moriz since only he and Aidan have this number that I know of.

  “Hello,” I say breathlessly.

  “Giovanna,” Aidan’s deep voice rumbles.

  My breath hitches and I curse myself, hoping that he didn’t hear it. Turning back toward the bathroom, I make my way toward the tub again. “Aidan,” I mutter.

  “Are you okay? You sound like you’re out of breath,” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

  I wish he would have text me instead of calling. I’m better at texting, it gives me more time to think of my responses, and I’m lest flustered. “I’m okay. I was just getting in the tub and had to run across the bedroom. My phone was still on the nightstand,” I truthfully admit.

  He chuckles, the deep sound practically vibrating through the phone. I cringe as I sit down in the warm water, trying not to make a noise, enjoying his voice far too much for my own good.

  “I just wanted to check on you, A rùnsearc.” His voice is barely above a whisper, deep and throaty. God, he’s sexy from head to toe, even over the phone.

  Clearing my throat, I lie back against my tub. “I will be fine, Aidan. There’s no need to worry about me.”

  “I have an engagement tonight that will probably run late into the evening. I’d like to see you afterward though.”

  Pressing my lips together, I think about my poor body and wonder if I can take anymore. I don’t think I could, but I also know that I cannot deny him. “I’ll be here.”

  I hear someone talking in the background, then a rustling noise sounds in my ear. Aidan’s muffled voice speaks, and I know he’s talking to whoever it is in the background. A few seconds later, I hear his throat clear. “Okay, I’ll see you this evening, sometime. I’ll let myself in, yeah?”

  “Okay,” I breathe.

  He doesn’t hear me, though. The line is already dead. I gently drop my phone on the bathroom floor and lean back, attempting to relax. I don’t know how I’m going to take more from Aidan tonight, but I’ll just have to get over it.

  What we have isn’t about me, and it never will be. He is my client, and what he wants, he always gets. It is my job, and my duty, to please and appease him in any way possible. I just hope he doesn’t break me in the process.

  AIDAN

  Ending the call, I set my phone down and stare at it for a moment. Guilt crawls up my throat. I hurt her. Really fucking hurt her. I couldn’t control myself, and part of me didn’t give a fuck either. I’m not sure that I still give much of one. Except seeing the tears in her eyes knowing that I caused them made me feel something.

  Guilt is an emotion that I haven’t felt in a while, and I don’t like it. I have to fix it, and tonight, I hope to do that for her.

  “Dad,” Elowen quietly calls from the doorway.

  I’m working from home today because tonight is our family party and I want to be around to supervise my daughter and the party planner. Lifting my chin, I silently encourage her to walk into my office. I don’t speak, waiting for her to continue with whatever question she has.

  “The party planner, she thinks there should be place cards…” she begins.

  I snort. I fucking hate place cards, but I don’t tell Elowen that, I want to know what she thinks. “And your thoughts on that?”

  She wrinkles her nose, her dark brows furrowing. “I don’t like them. I think people should be allowed to sit by whomever they wish. I don’t want anybody to feel uncomfortable,” she explains.

  “Good girl.” I chuckle. “Fuck place cards. It’s a catered dinner, but it’s still a family dinner. If she fights with you about it, send her in here,” I grunt.

  Elowen gives me a big grin and I can tell she really wants to tell this party planner to shove it up her ass, or maybe she wants me to do it for her. She stands without another word to me and practically skips out of my office. I chuckle, thinking about how much younger the simple move made her look. I sometimes forget that she’s still just a girl. She’s on the brink of womanhood, and I know that I’ll lose her soon, but it’s nice to have a moment where I’m reminded of the girl that she still very much is.

  “Sir? You wished to speak to me?” the party planner asks, slipping into my office a few minutes later. I watch as she closes then locks the door behind her.

  Without speaking, I continue to watch her. She’s pretty, with her bleached blonde hair, and her extremely slim body. She’s not my type though. Not only does she have on too much makeup, she’s too skinny, her tits too small, her ass nonexistent. I prefer a natural woman with curves—I always have.

  “Elowen is in charge of the party. Your only job is to help her. If she says no place cards, then there will be no place cards. This is not something that I should ever have to deal with, now or at any other time,” I state, my gaze level with her.

  She lifts her chin, slowly walking toward my desk, and thankfully stopping right in front of it. Leaning down she gives me a view of her flat chest and I don’t even bother looking. Instead, I keep my eyes on hers.

  “Yes, sir,” she whispers, attempting to sound seductive. The art is lost on her, she is not Giovanna, now that woman knows how to seduce. “Is there anything else that I can do for you? That you need from me?”

  I snort, leaning back in my seat. I could have her suck my cock really quickly, but I’m not even semi-hard. She does absolutely nothing for me. I must not answer her soon enough. She begins to walk around my desk as I attempt to remember her name—I have no fucking clue what it is.

  Watching as she reaches my side, then sinks to her knees. “I’ve been dreaming about what’s beneath these suit pants for years,” she breathes, reaching for my waistband. Her words send off an alarm.

  Reaching for her wrists, I wrap my fingers around and squeeze them tightly, halting her movements. Her green eyes widen and look up at me in surprise.

  “Years?” I ask.

  She nods, biting her bottom lip before she wets it with her tongue. I watch as her eyelids lower and she tries to give me some half-lidded sexy look. It doesn’t work. She just looks kind of off-balanced.

  “I’ve worked events that your wife has planned since your wedding. I’ve had my eyes on the great Aidan O’Neil for years. I’ve wanted you since I watched you stand at the altar for your wedding. A big, strong, Irishman. Fuck, you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

  “My money doesn’t hurt either, does it?” I ask, keeping my voice low and even.

  She smirks. “Money and a body to die for. No, it all works for you.”

  “Plus, the fact that I’m the oldest O’Neil, tell me, how many of my brothers have you fucked?” I murmur.

  It’s not
hing but a hunch, but I’m usually right fucking on when it comes to my hunches. I watch as her cheeks blush and that’s when I know that I’m right. This bitch has been trying to worm her way into the O’Neil family for years. However, she really has no fucking clue how we work.

  “All of them,” she admits with a coy smile. “I would be more than happy to do any of them again if you were into that,” she winks. I almost laugh in her face.

  The nameless party planner wiggles her fingers, and I allow her to finish unbuckling my pants. I watch her, curiously. I’m not even half-mast, however, when she reaches beneath my boxer briefs and begins to stroke me, my body takes over.

  Without a word, she leans down and takes me into her mouth. I watch as she bobs on my cock for a minute, then I close my eyes. I’m unable to look at her, my mind filling with the vision of Giovanna on her knees for me. I pretend it’s her sucking my cock, her tongue tasting me, and her pouty lips wrapped around me.

  I let out a low growl, remembering the sight of her on her knees. Fuck, I don’t know how I’m going to last until later tonight before seeing her again. I need her—every part of her. The bitch on my cock is sloppy, so I reach for her, fisting her hair in my hand and I slam her down, forcing her to take all of me. I feel her flail, but I don’t give much of a fuck.

  With a growl, I fuck her mouth. It’s hard and ruthless, and she makes noises of what is probably protest as I use her throat to jack my cock. When I’m close, I yank her off of my dick and jack off onto her face. She’s on her knees, tears, spit, and cum covering her cheeks and mouth as I open my eyes to look down at her.

  “You… you…” she blubbers.

  I chuckle. “Get the fuck out of my house. Your services are no longer needed.”

  Her eyes widen as she stands on shaky legs. “Aidan?” she asks.

  “I’m Mr. O’Neil. You are nothing but a whore who is trying to sleep your way into the O’Neil family. I don’t know why, and I don’t really give a fuck why. You can show yourself out now,” I state.