“Your phone was off and you didn’t come home until after two in the morning, Kirill. What am I to expect?” she asks with tears shining in her eyes.
“You never expect my cock sliding inside of another person, Tatyana, ever. I told you that I would be faithful and I will. Do not think so low of me. I have not and would not lie to you,” I inform her as my free hand moves down her body and strips her sheets.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore, Kirill. Sex slaves, the Bratva, my father reappearing, and the FBI. I just don’t know,” she cries.
Once her sheet is gone, I pull down her panties as well. Then I unbuckle and unzip my pants before I pull my cock out. My eyes never waiver as they stay completely focused on her, even as I spread her thighs and line my dick with her center. I press against her slit and watch as her eyes widen slightly. Tears fall down the sides of her face onto the pillow beneath her.
“Believe in me, Tati,” I tell her right before I slam my cock inside of her warm pussy.
“Kirill,” she gasps. It makes me even harder.
I press her wrists into the pillow with a little more force as I slide out, just my tip staying inside of her. Then I slam into her cunt again. Her tits press against my chest and I wish we were completely naked right now; I want to feel the hard points of her nipples against my skin.
“You need to trust me, Tatyana. If you want me to trust in you, then you need to trust in me,” I murmur as I slowly pull out of her again.
I pump just the tip of my cock into her tight pussy, tipping my head down to watch the motion. Fuck, it’s so hot when she takes me.
“I thought the worst things, Kirill,” she sobs.
“Never, Tati. I’m yours—I love you,” I whisper before I take her hard.
I fuck her until she’s crying out with pleasure instead of sadness. My woman will not be sad in my bed, ever. When I’ve satisfied her and myself, I stay planted inside of her sweet pussy and just feel her against me, smell her neck, and hold her.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers into the dark room.
“For?” I ask, lifting my head to look into her eyes.
“For thinking the worst,” she says. I nip that lower lip, trembling and puffy, before I speak.
“If the roles had been reversed, if I didn’t know where you were and you weren’t answering my calls, I would be livid. I would be thinking about whose cock I needed to cut off. I understand it, Tati. I do. But we need to trust each other. Sometimes I will be unreachable, and sometimes I’ll not be able to tell you where I am or what I’m doing. I need you to trust that I’m not doing anything that will hurt you, Kiska, or us,” I murmur, tucking a piece of wild hair behind her ear.
“It’s hard,” she breathes.
“It is, but we’ll get there, krushka,” I whisper before planting a gentle kiss on that still trembling, still puffy bottom lip of hers.
Together we shower and wash away the day. My mind is pre-occupied with the Cartel and the Notorious Devils as we finish our shower.
Once we’re settled in bed, my Tati snuggles against my chest then she begins to whisper about her day, about Alex, whom she finally met and instantly loved, and about Kiska and her first day of private school, which included her first dance class.
Then, she whispers about Haleigh, and how she’s offered to privately tutor Kiska one day a week on top of her lessons to try and advance her a bit so she isn’t as far behind the other girls.
I smile into the dark room, knowing that my girls are taken care of, that I’m able to provide this beautiful life for them and in return they give me the greatest gift, the gift of love and family. It’s worth more than all the money in my bank.
I would trade every penny to have the past ten years back, to know Kiska as a baby, but I can’t. Which means that I will choose to cherish every single day and every single moment from here on out.
My girls, my family—my life.
BORED.
A word I thought could not be in a mother’s dictionary.
Yet, here I am using it.
Because I am just that.
Bored.
Kiska is away at school. Kirill is away at work. The house is spotless. I’ve prepped dinner for this evening. The laundry is finished, except for Kirill’s suits, which need to be dry cleaned and are apparently picked up once a week.
So in other words, I’m bored.
It has been an uneventful four weeks of living in California. We’re in a routine, and I enjoy that aspect. I work three nights a week, Kirill works seven days a week, and then several nights as well. Kiska is loving her new school and her ballet lessons.
Alex, my Byki, is awesome, as is his lover, Ollie. I’ve lunched with Haleigh and Emiliya a few times, but they are so busy with their small children, and they are in different places than me in the moment. Although, I almost kidnapped Emiliya and Radimir’s son, Radoslav. He is the sweetest little bundle of love I have ever held.
But now I’m bored.
I need something to do.
“I must be the dullest assignment on earth,” I pout as I look over at Alex.
“You are, but I can’t say that I don’t enjoy it. Makes my job nice,” he says. I roll my eyes.
“I need a hobby.”
“You and Kirill need baby,” he says. My eyes widen.
“Shut your mouth,” I almost cry.
“You do. I see the way you look at baby Rad,” he arches his brow.
“Kirill and I need more time together,” I murmur.
“You need baby. He is man. He wants syn.”
I almost laugh at Alex’s broken English, but his words hit somewhere inside of me.
Does Kirill want a son? I don’t know. We’ve never once talked about more children. I honestly thought that I would never have another child. I didn’t think I would ever be in a relationship again. I loved and missed Kirill too much to even consider another man. But now, things are different. We’re settling into our lives together, and doing it fantastically.
I love him and he loves me.
Though, we’re not married yet.
That worries me. The fact that my father is still in town and we’ve made no wedding plans stresses me out. I’m not going to complain about my father being here still. I’ve been enjoying him in our lives, and Kiska adores him. He isn’t around a whole lot; he’s busy doing work things with Kirill most of the time, but when he does come over, I love it.
“Ziven is going to take me to work tonight,” I try to casually mention as I go into the kitchen for a glass of water.
“I have not heard this from Kirill,” Alex mutters.
I take a deep breath trying to come up with a viable reason why Kirill wouldn’t tell Alex this. I can’t think of any. I’m a terrible liar. I knit my brows together in thought. I wonder if I can trust Alex not to tell Kirill what Ziven, Semion and I are up to tonight.
“You can’t tell anybody, Alex—not Kirill, not anybody,” I warn.
Alex’s brows furrow in confusion but I don’t allow him to ask me anything else before I tell him exactly what I’m doing tonight.
“Ziven, Semion and I are trying to get information on Agent Green. He is a total crazy man, obsessed with Kirill, and I want to know why. I’m pretending to work with him to give him information on Kirill but…” I let my words trail off.
“Instead, you’re tricking him. Sounds dangerous, Tatyana. Ziven knows about this and he is okay keeping it from Kirill?” he asks.
“I want Kirill to trust me again. He doesn’t, and I don’t think he ever will. I have to prove to him that I’m trustworthy,” I confess.
“Oh, Tati,” he murmurs. I see the pity in his eyes.
“Help us, or at least don’t tell Kirill. Please, Alex,” I shamelessly beg.
“My job, to keep you safe. I will protect you, Tatyana. This man is not right. I have heard things,” he nods.
“Thanks, Alex,” I grin.
“Let us get Kiska. On the way, you tell me ev
erything,” he demands.
Once we’re in the car, I tell him about how Agent Green gave me a GPS device to keep an eye on Kirill, but Ziven put it on this car, my car, because he knew Kirill would not be using it to conduct any business.
This is Kiska and my personal vehicle. Kirill has no reason to use it at all; and aside from all of that, he enjoys his Hennessey sports car and only switches to his Land Rover SUV when he has to. He has no reason to drive the BMW sedan he has provided for Kiska and me.
“This car has GPS device and you never tell me?” Alex asks. I watch as his knuckles turn white as he grips the steering wheel of the car.
“You haven’t gone anywhere in it, have you?” I ask, arching my brow.
“Nyet. Still, I should know these things,” he scolds. He’s right. He should have known, but I didn’t want the entire thing to get blown by him telling Kirill.
“I’m sorry, Alex,” I murmur. His hand lands on my knee and he gives me a gentle squeeze and a wink as we pull up in front of Kiska’s school.
“What is happening tonight with him?” he asks, getting back to the conversation.
“Tonight, he’s coming to the club. Ziven will be watching from the hall, and Semion behind the bar. Green is supposed to give me more instructions, and Ziven wants me to give him false information—tell him that Kirill will be somewhere he’s not, somewhere that will compromise Green.
“I don’t know the details, all I know is that I’m supposed to tell him to be at West 67th Street and South Gramercy Place at midnight on Saturday.”
“In Chesterfield Square?” Alex asks, his voice climbing a touch and his eyebrows shooting to the sky. I shrug, unsure of the area.
“They’ve made a hit on him, then. I don’t know what else to think. That is the most dangerous neighborhood in the city,” Alex murmurs, almost as if to himself.
I open my mouth to ask him exactly what he’s just said. I understand the concept of a hit, but there’s no way in hell Ziven would order that. No way possible.
Ryan Green is a Federal Agent, he’s untouchable. The amount of people that would be out for blood if he were to be murdered, I can’t imagine that Kirill would allow that kind of attention, or that any of them would want it.
Instead of asking him anything, I turn my attention to Kiska and I ask her about her day. She excitedly tells me all about the new things she’s learned, not only in Ballet, but also in her Russian foreign language class.
I’m glad that she’ll be learning the language, since it seems we’ll be immersed in it for the rest of our lives. At least one of us should know what the people are saying around us.
Kirill is waiting for us when we return from picking Kiska up at school. He informs Alex that he can leave and then come back to collect me for work when it’s time.
I am confused.
Kirill is never home before dinner, sometimes not until after dinner. He seems agitated and angry, but I don’t say anything yet. He’ll tell me when he’s ready. His anger is quick to rise, and I know that whatever he’s upset with can have a wide range and may not necessarily have a single thing to do with me.
“Kiska, go to your room and take care of your homework for the night. Your mama and I need to talk, yeah?” he says with a fake as shit smile on his face.
Kirill’s hand clamps around my wrist before he marches toward our bedroom, pulling me behind him. I have no clue what’s going on, and to say I’m frightened is a bit of an understatement. I don’t say a word, though. I follow him, wondering what his problem is. I know that he’ll tell me once Kiska has left, then he won’t hold back.
Once we’re inside of the bedroom, I lock the door behind me, knowing this conversation could go about a million different ways, since I have no clue what it’s going to be.
“Kirill?” I ask.
I gasp when he turns around to face me and then he’s on me. My back is pressed against the door and his hands are on my waist lifting me in his arms. I wrap my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders. His lips crush against mine in a bruising kiss.
“Kirill?” I murmur as I try to catch my breath.
My heart is racing a million miles an hour, and I’m having a hard time controlling my heaving chest.
“Set a wedding date. Do it, Tati,” he urges as he grinds his hard cock against my panties.
“I was waiting for you,” I groan as my head bumps against the door behind me.
“I want you to be mine immediately, and I want Kiska to have my last name,” he growls as one of his hands leaves my ass. I feel him fumbling with his belt.
“What’s this about, Kirill?” I ask as his finger slides my panties to the side. Then his hard cock fills me with one swift thrust.
“That piece of fucking shit was in my office today. He wants what’s mine and he can’t have it. He can’t have you and he can’t have Kiska. You’re my fucking family and no other man will ever know you again, Tatyana,” he grunts before he starts to slam inside of me.
Kirill’s punishing thrusts hurt, but it feels so good, I welcome the pain and the brutality he freely gives me. My hands slide into his hair and I twist my fingers into his soft strands, taking everything he’s giving me—all of his anger and frustration. He can’t hurt Green, so he’s going to hurt me, but at the same time bring me so much pleasure I’ll explode.
“I don’t want him. I love you, Kirill,” I grunt as he slams my back against the door.
“Fuck yes, you do, krushka. You love me—you’re mine.”
He doesn’t say another word.
I watch as sweat drips down his face as his thrusts turn from punishing to quick pulses of his hips. It’s not enough to make me climax and I shiver in his arms.
The hand on my ass tightens its grip, then he bottoms out inside of me and stays completely still, his storming eyes focused on mine.
“You’re mine, Tati. Moyo zolotse,” he murmurs.
His nose slides against mine and then his thumb presses against my clit. I moan as he stays deep inside of me, his thumb rubbing firm circles, causing my back to automatically arch.
“You need to move, please,” I beg.
“What’s the date?” he asks, arching a brow as he smirks at me.
“Any day you want, Kirill,” I sigh.
“You marry me next Friday then, Tatyana. We’ll do it at the restaurant I own,” he announces.
I want to ask him about this restaurant, since this is the first I’ve heard of it, but I lose all train of thought when he starts to pound inside of me. Within seconds, I detonate around him in a strangled cry.
My fingers tighten in his hair as I feel him empty inside of me, his cock twitching and his breathing labored. He continues to slowly move inside of me, causing me to quiver in his arms. I’m a mess, but I love it. Kirill is definitely the only man I could ever want. I don’t think I would survive being without him again. He’s the one for me. Heart, body, mind and soul.
“Next Friday?” I ask in a daze.
“Yes, Tatyana. Next Friday. I’ll have a judge, our friends, and your papa present. We’ll eat, drink, and celebrate. I can’t wait any longer to make you mine,” he murmurs gently pressing his lips to mine.
“Then I guess I’ll go shopping Monday morning. Alex is going to hate me,” I grumble.
“Alex will be fine, Tati. Your responsibilities will be your dress, the cake, and Kiska’s dress. I will take care of everything else,” he instructs as he carries me into the bathroom.
“What about a photographer and the menu?” I ask in surprise.
“Let me deal with it, krushka, yeah?” I nod. Then I start thinking about what he said and how Agent Green was at his office today.
“What did Green want?” I ask, trying to get information out of him.
“To be a pain in my ass. He was trying to get my financial information, my books. He didn’t have a warrant.” He chuckles as he wipes my center with a warm cloth.
I don’t say anything, but the fact that
Green was in his office asking questions, today of all days, worries me. It also is concerning that he would try anything without a warrant. I don’t understand it. I make a mental note to bring it up to Ziven, Semion, and Alex this evening.
“What’s for dinner?” Kirill asks, grinning toward me.
“What does my Russian love machine want?” I ask, smiling.
Kirill chuckles at my terrible attempt to be funny. Then together we go into the kitchen and he helps me prepare a dinner that we share as a family before I go into the club.
“What are they doing here?” I ask Semion later that evening.
Agent Green is hiding out in his booth and I’ve just watched Haleigh and Emiliya walk through the doors. They stand out like sore thumbs in this place. Beautiful, elegant and classy. Granted, the club is nice, but Haleigh and Emiliya, they outshine it in every way.
“I do not know,” Semion says with a frown. Then Anton, Emiliya’s Byki, joins them.
“Green is here. I have to go talk to him and they can’t be here. This plan is going to shit, Semion,” I ramble. He holds his hand up to quiet me.
“I have an office, Tati, they can go in there,” he informs me as they approach.
“Oh, my gosh, I’m so excited to see you dance,” Haleigh exclaims as she embraces me in a sideways hug, so that I don’t press my naked breasts against her.
“Do your husbands know you’re here?” I blurt out.
Neither of them answer immediately and I think I may have a chance at getting them to leave, but Anton speaks up from behind them.
“They know where the women are. I informed them,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Are you not comfortable with us watching you?” Haleigh asks. I can see she’s worried about offending me.
“No, of course not. It’s just that I didn’t expect you,” I grin, trying to show them that I’m not offended. I am nervous about them seeing Agent Green.
“Come, you girls can go sit up in the front, over there,” Semion interrupts, pointing them in the complete opposite direction of Agent Green.
Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3) Page 19