Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  “We’re leaving. They’re going to deliver our food,” Mika announces from beside me.

  I stand without saying a word and I walk ahead of him, his warm hand pressed to my back the entire length of the restaurant. Once we’re inside of his car, he places his hand right above my knee and squeezes gently. I ignore him the best that I can as I look out the window.

  Once we arrive at the apartment building, we silently exit the car, then quietly ride the elevator. We’re silent until we make it inside of our apartment. I don’t bother turning on any light, choosing to make my way to the bedroom to change. Suddenly, I hate this dress, the shoes, everything.

  “I’m trying to keep you safe, Oksana,” Mika murmurs as I unzip my dress and let it fall to the ground. “Lapochka,” he murmurs as he slides his hand around my belly and his lips touch the back of my shoulder.

  I refuse to speak to him.

  He’s an ass.

  “You can’t be angry at me for being worried. You don’t know what would happen to us if your father found us right now,” he murmurs as his tongue tastes my skin. My body trembles, and I feel his lips turn into a smile on my shoulder.

  “I’m sure your Aleksandra wouldn’t purposely do anything to hurt you, but the more people who know where we are, the more dangerous it becomes,” he rumbles as his hand slides beneath my panties. I feel his fingers gently stroke me. “I’d like to stay alive for a while longer. Long enough to make you my wife, maybe put a baby inside of you. The longer your father can’t find us, the better my chances of doing just that,” he rasps.

  I spread my legs a bit wider to give his hand more room, enjoying the feeling of him touching me gently, softly, and with care.

  “What are you telling me?” I ask, turning my face and pressing my lips to his neck.

  “He’ll kill me,” he announces.

  “What?” I ask, jerking out of his arms before I turn around to face him.

  “I didn’t have permission to take you, Oksana. What do you think he’ll do?” he asks.

  “Be mad, yell, and then get over it?”

  Mika throws back his head in laughter.

  “He’s the most powerful Pakhan in the country. You’re his daughter. The fact that he didn’t already have a contract for you the day you were born, let alone decades later, is uncharacteristic for his position. The way he allowed you your freedoms, that was all for Sonia’s benefit—nobody else’s. You aren’t free to choose whomever you wish to choose, Sana. He owns you until he marries you off. Your husband dies, and guess what?”

  “He marries me off to someone else,” I whisper.

  “Yeah, fucking right he does. Where does it sound like, anywhere in there, that he would allow a Brigadier nobody to run off with you?” he asks on a snort.

  “You’re not a nobody,” I whisper.

  “To your father? To Sergei, to all the other Pakhans? I’m nothing. I’m nobody. I don’t deserve to lick your shoes, let alone stick my cock inside of you,” he shouts. I take a step back from him. His anger fills the space between us, and it makes me want to cry.

  “You aren’t nobody,” I say again, fighting my tears. I hate to cry. I refuse.

  “Oksana, I’m one in a hundred. I’m nobody. I saw your name on the list of available women to contract, and I put my request in, but I never thought I would ever actually get the chance to even lay eyes on you, let alone be a contending participant. I don’t know what kind of games your father is playing, why he picked Gavril, why he even had me and Semion in the fucking running for you, but something isn’t fucking right,” he barks.

  “Stop yelling at me,” I say, placing my hands on his chest. His eyes look down at my hand, and it’s when his muscles tighten that I know he’s seen my ring is gone.

  “You take my ring off?” he asks in a lethal voice.

  “Mika,” I whisper.

  He steps away from me, and before I realize what’s happened, I hear the apartment door slam. He’s gone, leaving me standing in nothing but my pretty high heels, expensive new panties, and bra. It’s then that I finally allow myself to cry. I fall to the ground right there, pull my knees to my chest, and I cry.

  Mika doesn’t come back to the apartment at all.

  I wait for him.

  I cry.

  My alarm sounds and I hit the button, shuffling to the bathroom to ready myself for the day. I haven’t slept for even a moment, and I feel sluggish. My eyes are puffy from crying, and I feel like a fool. Mika made me mad, but by me taking my ring off, it was an insult.

  It wasn’t nice of me, and even though he wasn’t being the kindest, an eye-for-an-eye wasn’t the answer. He yelled at me, but it’s because he’s worried—scared, even.

  Hurting him because he hurt me is something that I would have done a year or two ago. That’s not the kind of woman I want to be in the future.

  I dress in a pair of tight, holey jeans, and a wide scoop neck, long sleeve shirt. I pull my hair into a high ponytail and put on a light layer of makeup, not caring to wear any at all. Nonetheless, I need to try and cover up the fact that I’ve been crying all night and I didn’t sleep a wink. Then, I slip into a pair of wedge booties and throw a thick poncho over my head to keep snuggly warm.

  Walking into the kitchen, I open cabinets and try to find a travel mug for tea or coffee. I need something with caffeine to wake me up and clear my foggy, bogged down brain. A knock on the door startles me, and I slam the cabinet closed before I walk over to the door, checking the peephole before I wrench the door open.

  “Ustin and Leonie,” I say, opening the door with a sad smile.

  “You ready?” Ustin grunts.

  I nod before I turn and walk away to grab my bag. I didn’t switch purses from last night, and just picking up my little evening clutch makes my heart squeeze inside of my chest. I open it, take my ring out and slip it back on my finger. Turning around, I see that both Ustin and Leonie are looking at me with puzzled expressions.

  “Do you want a coffee before we go?” Leonie asks as she reaches out and wraps her hand around my wrist, giving it a gentle squeeze.

  “Yeah, I would love that,” I smile.

  Together, the three of us walk out of the apartment. My eyes widen when Ustin locks the door behind us. I didn’t even know that he had a key. I don’t say anything about it. I’m too tired to care that a man, who is essentially a stranger, has a key to my apartment. I wish I knew where Mika was, or that I had enough courage to call him.

  “All will be okay. Spend the day with some beautiful children, and whatever is wrong will not seem so bad when the day is over,” Leonie whispers. She slides her arm through mine once we’re in the elevator.

  “Mika and I had a fight,” I admit.

  She doesn’t respond with words. Rather, she slips her arm around my waist and gives me a gentle, knowing squeeze. She would know, too. Though, I would guess that her fights with her previous husband were much more traumatizing then what I had with Mika. I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself, not when people have had much more devastating things thrown their way than I have.

  “Coffee, then babies,” Leonie grins as the elevator doors open.

  “Coffee, then babies,” I agree.

  Ustin takes us through a coffee drive thru, and I almost kiss him when he hands me the venti caramel macchiato. I rest my head back against the seat and sip my sweet caffeinated drink. It’s delicious, delectable, and it actually makes me feel a little bit better.

  “Are you ready?” Leonie asks. I open my eyes and sit up, looking around and realizing that we’re parked in front of a big building.

  “I am,” I lie.

  A few minutes later, we’re all checked in. Leonie says we need to see the babies first. I’m nervous. I haven’t spent much time around babies; but as soon as we walk into the nursery, my heart does a flip. There are babies everywhere. From the smallest of newborns to almost toddlers.

  “Come,” Leonie says, wrapping her hand around mine and tugging me over to t
he smallest babies. “They don’t get held much. Come and hold them,” she whispers.

  I watch as she reaches into a bassinet and picks up a tiny squirming baby. I look down at the one that is directly in front of me. I can’t tell the sex of the incredibly small baby, but it’s beautiful. I reach in and pick up the swaddled child, following Leonie to a rocking chair.

  A woman walks up to us and starts speaking. I don’t understand her, but Leonie does, and she says something that makes the woman turn to me and smile before she walks away.

  “What was that?” I ask.

  “She wanted to know who you were. I told her you were a friend, that you hadn’t been around many babies, but that you’d had a bad night and needed to hold something innocent and beautiful,” she shrugs.

  We spend at least two hours holding babies of all ages and sizes. They’re amazing. I love the way they snuggle and don’t care who you are, as long as you’re warm. They have no choice but to trust you, and it makes me feel sad that they’re in this place, without people to hold them and love them every day.

  “Now, let’s play with some children,” Leonie suggests.

  We walk into a playroom and my heart flips again. There are children everywhere. They aren’t all perfectly kept and clean, their clothes aren’t neat and tidy, but they’re all smiling, and they look as though they’re happy.

  “I want to take them all,” I whisper.

  “I know,” she nods in understanding.

  THE REST OF THE day, we play with boys and girls, toddlers and children. We play games, we read, and it’s the most fulfilling day I have ever had. I try not to think of Mika. Luckily, I’m so busy that I don’t. But I can’t keep thoughts of his sister and her children out of my head. I wonder how many of these kids are Bratva offspring. How many of them are the children of Bratva whores, diseased or otherwise incapable, of caring for their own babies.

  “Are you ready?” Leonie asks. We watch as the children are being gathered up for dinner.

  “Yeah,” I murmur.

  We check out, and Ustin suddenly appears at our side as we walk out of the orphanage. The mood is somber. I turn to Leonie and she’s smiling, but it doesn’t reach her eyes.

  “When do you come back again?” I ask as we climb into the black SUV.

  “I come every other day,” she admits.

  “Will you let me join you?” I ask.

  “Of course,” she grins. This time, the expression reaches her eyes.

  The rest of the ride back to the apartment is quiet. I start to feel panicky the closer we get to my temporary home. I don’t know what I’ll do if Mika doesn’t come back tonight—cry some more, most likely. It’s not like I can just run off. Uncle Sergei might let me stay with him for about a minute, then he’ll hand me back off to Mika.

  “Thank you for today,” I whisper to Leonie once the three of us walk to my door.

  “Until next time,” she smiles as she wraps her arms around me in a hug.

  Ustin shakes his head, but I can see a small smile on his lips. I watch as he opens the door and walks inside. He then stops, jerks his head, and turns to leave. He doesn’t say anything to me, but I know why he didn’t step any further into the apartment.

  Mika is here.

  He’s standing with a beer dangling from his fingers, his back pressed against the floor to ceiling windows, and his knee bent, foot propped on the window. His hair is a mess, and his eyes are narrowed on me. We stare at each other, neither of us speaking a word.

  “Today you are my fiancée?” he asks, breaking the silence.

  “I was your fiancée yesterday,” I whisper.

  “Nyet, you were not. You took it off.”

  “I’m sorry. What do I have to do to show you how sorry I am?” I whisper.

  “Strip. Suck my cock, take whatever the fuck I give you,” he says as he pushes off of the window and walks toward me.

  I yank my warm poncho off, my shirt following it. I step out of my booties and strip my tight jeans off, including my panties. Standing in front of him again, in nothing but my bra, I sink to the floor. If this is what he wants, he can have it.

  I unhook my bra and strip it off, tossing it to the side to join the rest of my clothes. I look up at him through my lashes just as he takes a pull from his beer, his angry eyes still very much focused on me.

  With shaky fingers, I unbuckle his pants, then unzip them before I let them fall to his feet. I can see the outline of his hard cock through his boxer briefs, and I bite my bottom lip before I pull his underwear down to join his pants.

  “Open,” he grunts, his fist wrapping around my ponytail roughly.

  I close my eyes and open my mouth, waiting for him to shove his dick down my throat, but nothing happens. A second later, he releases my hair and then I watch as he pulls his boxers and pants up before he reaches back and throws his beer bottle against the door behind me. I feel drops of liquid hit my bare feet, and I close my mouth, my body trembling in fear.

  I don’t know this Mika.

  This is not the man that I had chosen all those months ago to be mine.

  Mika walks away from me and toward our bedroom. I stand on my shaky legs and I follow behind him, leaving all of my clothes and dignity in the living room.

  When I walk into the bedroom, Mika is standing with his hands on his hips staring out into the dark city.

  “Enough,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t respond, other than his body tensing.

  “Do you hear me, Mikhail? I said enough,” I shout.

  “You make me goddamn crazy,” he whispers. “It’s never been this way before, not even with…” he trails off.

  “Who?” I ask, feeling extremely vulnerable from the outside in.

  “Doesn’t matter,” he mutters to the window.

  “Tell me,” I demand.

  “Ashley,” he says on a whisper. I gasp before I take a step back.

  He turns to face me, and he’s in front of me before I can catch my next breath. Mika wraps his arms around me and pulls me to his chest. His hold is firm. No matter how I struggle, I can’t break free from him.

  Without warning, tears fall from my eyes. Inwardly, I curse myself for crying, but I haven’t slept. I’m exhausted, I’m emotional from the evening before and my day spent with all those babies and children.

  “Nothing became of us,” he whispers as his forehead presses against mine.

  “You wanted her.”

  “I thought I did, yes,” he says. I hate him for admitting it out loud to me.

  I struggle against him again, but he doesn’t release me, his strength overpowering what little I have in an instant. He picks me up and drags me over to the bed, lying us down, him on top of me, so that I can’t escape.

  “You’ve never held affection for another man, Oksana?” he asks sharply.

  My body freezes before I blink. I think about his question. I have held affection for other men. Not many, but a few.

  “You can’t get angry because you know her,” he murmurs. “I didn’t feel a tenth of the emotion for her as I do for you. Goddamn, you drive me insane,” he rasps before he lowers his head and presses his lips to my own, forcing his tongue inside of my mouth.

  His tongue swirls around, tangling with mine, and my entire body relaxes into the mattress. His smell, his touch, his kiss—they completely own me. I lift my arms and slide my fingers into his hair, holding him tightly against me, drinking in his kiss.

  “I shouldn’t have left last night,” he murmurs as I hear the rustling sound of his clothes.

  He stands up, and I watch as he completely undresses. Then he pushes me into the middle of the bed, on my side. He takes one of my legs, wrapping his hand around the back of my knee, pushing my top leg up and slightly forward. When he thrusts inside of me, I feel so full—fuller than I ever have before. My body slightly twisted and Mika looming over me, I hold my breath as he leans down to touch his lips to mine.

  “I should have stayed home w
ith you, my lapochka,” he whispers against my lips as his hips start to move.

  I reach up and wrap my fingers around his shoulder as he tenderly slides in and out of me. I don’t expect the gentle, long strokes, and my heart races inside of my chest as he continues to consume me with his kiss. I don’t hold back my moan. He feels bigger than he ever has inside of me, stretching me over and over.

  “Mikhail,” I sigh against his mouth.

  “No other person has made me feel the way you make me feel, Oksana,” he rasps as he starts thrusting a little harder with each stroke.

  “Crazy?” I ask breathlessly.

  “Insane. Fucking insane, lapochka,” he moans. “Now touch that gorgeous clit and come around me.”

  I reach between my legs, lifting my top leg just enough to slip two fingers between my thighs and press them against my clit. I start to gently touch myself, moaning as Mika continues to thrust harder inside of me, each stroke still more powerful than the last.

  “Hurry,” he rasps as his hips jerk.

  I press harder against my clit, moving faster and faster, in tandem to his own jerky movements. Then I freeze, my body locking up as I come. I reach out and wrap my hand around the back of his neck, my fingers squeezing as I ride my climax.

  Mika doesn’t stop fucking me through my orgasm; and when I think I can’t take another second from being overly sensitive, he throws back his head and I watch his throat as he groans, his release spilling inside of my body.

  He doesn’t relax against me. He pulls out and lies on his back for a second before he reaches for me and pulls me to his side, my front pressing to his as I lie on half of his body. His arms wrap around me and he holds me tightly, his grip surely leaving marks on me, but I don’t care.

  “Where were you last night?” I chance asking.

  “I worked all night,” he shrugs as his hold loosens. I feel his fingers running up and down my naked spine. “Won’t happen again, Oksana.”