Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  I don’t respond to her words as I finish undressing. Silently, I climb into the bed beside her. I have one full day to fuck her and get my fill, which is probably impossible, before I have to leave. Failure is not an option; and yet, I can’t help but continue to worry.

  “I can practically taste your anxiety, Mikhail. What’s happening?” she asks as she turns over and looks at me straight in the eyes.

  I lift my hand and trail my fingers down the side of her face before I wrap them around the side of her neck and squeeze her gently. She’s so delicately fragile, and yet the strongest woman I have ever known. I know, without a doubt, that no matter what happens to me, to us, that she will be perfectly fine.

  “I’m leaving for Mexico. I get one full day with you, then I have to go,” I explain. I watch as her eyes widen before she nods.

  “That was fast,” she breathes.

  “Want it over and done with. Plus, the fuck was easy to find,” I shrug before I roll over, taking her with me and settling between her thighs.

  “This is pretty,” I murmur, fingering the lace of her negligée at her breast.

  It’s pale pink, almost the color of her skin, and its soft silk presses against my chest. I run my fingers down her leg, finding that the negligee ends short. I slip my other hand up the outside of her thigh and am pleased to find she’s not wearing panties. I slide my fingers over her hip until they drift over her warm center, and then I slip two fingers inside of her.

  “Mikhail,” she breathes as she arches her neck while she rides my hand.

  I lower my head so that my lips brush her skin, licking the column of her neck before I suck her skin into my mouth, biting and drinking her in. I know I’m leaving a mark, but by the end of this evening, before I board that plane to Mexico, her entire body will bear my marks.

  Pressing my thumb to her clit, I continue to suck on the skin at her neck, bruising her flesh as her body tightens and her nails dig into my back. She’s climbing closer toward her release, and I want her to come. I want her to come so many times she’s crying and begging for me to stop.

  I won’t stop, though.

  I’ll make her come more, until she’s nothing but a pile of boneless, sensitive flesh. I want every single move she makes while I’m gone to remind her exactly who she belongs to.

  I move my mouth over to the side of her neck and bite her before I suck. Her legs shake as she comes on a shout, her pussy squeezing my fingers as she climaxes. I quickly pull my fingers out of her before I replace them with my cock in one, swift thrust, earning me a grunt from her.

  “Look at me, lapochka,” I grind out.

  Oksana’s eyes flutter open and she looks at me, a small smile playing on her lips. I slide my hands under her back and lift her body up, pressing her chest to mine as I stay on my knees and I hold her while I thrust up inside of her. She moans as her fingers wrap around my shoulders and her legs wrap around my hips.

  I can feel the sweat building on my forehead, my back tingling as my balls draw up. I know I’m on the cusp of my own release. I refuse to come until she does one more time.

  “Touch yourself,” I grind out.

  My eyes watch as her tongue peeks out and tastes her bottom lip while I feel her hand leave my shoulder. Then it’s between our bodies.

  I tug her a bit closer and bite her neck, sucking her, and leaving another mark. Oksana shivers in my arms, and I feel her warmth surround my cock as she bucks her hips, a sign that she’s close to coming again.

  “Come all over me, moya vozlyublennaya,” I urge against her neck.

  Her pussy flutters, and then she lets out a gasp as she tightens around me. With a groan, I thrust up inside of her with a few short strokes, and I empty myself into her warm, tight body. I hold her in my lap, my mouth feasting on her neck, biting, sucking, marking every square inch that I can.

  “Mika, I’m going to be a giant hickey if you don’t stop,” she whispers before she squeezes my cock with her pussy.

  “You’re mine,” I grunt.

  “I am,” she agrees. “But you don’t need to bruise me.”

  “I don’t want you to forget,” I admit as I lay her down and then sit back, already missing the tight glove of her cunt around me.

  “What?” she asks with wide eyes.

  “If I don’t come back, or if I don’t come back with his head,” I admit.

  Even thinking about possibly being defeated makes me sick, but reality is reality. I must face facts. I could very well fail. Oksana cups my cheek with her hand and shakes her head.

  “You won’t fail,” she whispers. I open my mouth to tell her the truth, to tell her what could be a possibility, but she shakes her head and places her thumb against my lips. “You won’t fail. If you do, then who will be the father to my children? Who will protect me? Who will love me?”

  “Love?” I ask.

  “You love me, Mikhail,” she states. It isn’t a question, not even close. It’s a fucking statement.

  “Oksana…”

  “You love me, and I love you,” she states.

  My eyes roam over her face, the fierceness of her features and her determination. Fucking shit, her goddamn strength.

  I nod.

  I do.

  I love her.

  I’ve loved her since the beginning—since I first laid eyes on her—but I won’t say the words. Not until I have Diego Pineda’s head in my hand and I’ve dropped it at Pasha Vetrov’s feet. The fuck.

  “You’re mine.”

  “I know,” she whispers.

  I can detect the sadness in her voice that I didn’t reciprocate her vow of love. I will. In due time. Not until she’s one hundred percent mine, without her father’s threats looming above us.

  “Get a couple hours of rest. I’m fucking you again soon, and you’re going to do all the work,” I rumble.

  “Can’t wait,” she whispers on a yawn.

  I pull her body against mine, but I don’t close my eyes. Instead, I lay there and take in every single breath she breathes. I listen, running my hands over her silky-smooth skin, and for the first time since before my parents were murdered and my sister was stolen—I pray.

  “OH, GOD,” I MOAN as I spread my thighs wider.

  Mika is eating me. No. He’s not just eating—he’s devouring, as if this is his last meal on earth. I’ve lost count of how many orgasms I’ve had throughout the day, and although it’s been blissful, I’m exhausted. My body can only handle so much, and I’m not sure if it can handle any more pleasure.

  Mika slips two fingers inside of my tender center and curls them while he concentrates on flicking my clit with his tongue. My body jerks and I close my eyes, knowing, feeling that I’m close again—so close. Tears leak from my eyes when my back bows, and I cry out with my release.

  Either he doesn’t notice, or he doesn’t care, but before I even ride out my climax, Mika pulls completely out of me, flips me onto my stomach and then he’s inside of me. He doesn’t wrench my hips back. Instead, he dives deep, my legs slightly open but my body flat on the mattress. I can feel his thighs on the outsides of mine while he fills me, his strokes even but quick.

  I moan when his hand fists my hair, and he yanks my head back, his face looming over mine. He looks serious, completely and totally serious.

  He leaves me in just two hours.

  We fucked off and on all day yesterday and throughout the night. Now, it’s four in the morning, and he walks out of the condo at six to fly to an unknown destination in Mexico.

  Mika stills before he groans, and I feel his cock twitch inside of me. Then he slides out and lies on his back next to me before he pulls me into his arms. I wrap my arm around his middle as I rest my head on his shoulder and press my lips to the underside of his jaw.

  “It’s going to be okay,” he says, as if he’s assuring himself more than me.

  “I know.”

  “I’ll be back in just a few days,” he says.

  “I know.”
<
br />   “Then it’ll all be over with,” he murmurs.

  “I know.”

  “Will you say something else?” he barks.

  “I love you,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t say anything, but his muscles flex and hold me a bit tighter. I want him to return the words, but I don’t know when or if he ever will.

  I fall asleep in his arms, and when I wake up, he’s gone. His side of the bed is cold, and I pinch my eyes closed tightly before I force myself to get up and shower. My entire body aches, and I can’t help but smirk. Mika made damn sure that I’ll remember him with every step I take while he’s gone.

  Once I’m showered and dressed, I decide to leave the condo and go in search of Leonie. I need a change of scenery. I pause after I lock the front door behind me, and my eyes widen at the large man that is standing next to my door.

  “I’m your Byki,” he grunts.

  “I’m going to visit my friend,” I say as I take a step back from him.

  “You don’t leave the building. Mika’s orders,” he growls.

  “O-okay,” I nod.

  At least he knows Mika’s name, which means he really could be my Byki, though I wish that Mika would have warned me ahead of time. The big dude pulls something out of his jacket and shoves it toward me. I don’t make a move to take it, afraid that it could be about a million deadly things; but as my eyes take it in, they widen and I realize he’s handing me a phone.

  “Call your man,” he grunts.

  I take the device and see that Mika’s name is on the screen, so I press the call button. It starts to ring immediately.

  “Ony is your Byki until I get back. This is your phone, and it has my number programmed, along with a few others, Ziven included,” he rambles.

  “Mika,” I say.

  “Hmm?”

  “Good morning,” I murmur.

  “Good morning, lapochka. I won’t be able to talk to you for a few days; but once this is all over, I’ll call you, yeah?”

  I close my eyes and hope, pray even, that this is not the last time I hear his voice. I don’t want to believe that it could be the end of us, that he could be forever taken from me, either in death or by my father, but it’s very much a possibility.

  “Okay. Watch over Timofei for me.”

  “He’s a big boy, Oksana,” he chuckles.

  “I know, but he’s still my brother,” I shrug, knowing he can’t see me.

  “I will. You know I will. Rest well and I’ll see you soon,” he says. Without another word, and without giving me a chance to respond, he ends the call.

  My eyebrows knit together in confusion and worry as I slip the phone into the back pocket of my jeans. Then I turn my gaze to Ony, who is looking at me with a completely emotionless, blank stare. My mother had many Byki over the years, and this is typically how they’ve all looked at me.

  As a child, I thought of the men who were always around our home as friends of my papa’s, so, in turn, I considered them my friends as well. As a teen and young adult, I crushed on a few and even lost my virginity to one.

  Now, this Byki, he’s my protector. Trusting a stranger isn’t easy, not since my mother’s couldn’t protect her. It was different with Ustin. My Uncle Sergei trusted him implicitly, and I knew he wouldn’t send just anybody over to me.

  “Nothing will happen to you,” Ony rumbles as if he can read my mind.

  “How dangerous is all of this?” I ask, looking into his eyes.

  He doesn’t give the slightest reaction to me. Instead, he lifts his chin before he finally speaks.

  “It’s dangerous, but I know Mika. I have known him for a while. If anybody can pull it off, it is him,” he says.

  “How well do you really know him?” I ask.

  “I came with him from California when he moved out here. I know Mika. I know he’s smart and he’s determined. He never loses.”

  I nod as I start to walk toward Leonie’s condo door. Ony stays close to my back, but not so close as he’s in my personal space. I feel a little better that Mika has known him for so long. It eases my worry.

  “Will I be allowed to leave the building now that I have you?” I ask.

  “Yes, but not until I receive word that it’s safe.”

  “That sounds fair enough,” I nod as I lift my hand and knock on Leonie’s door.

  “I’ll stay out here while you visit,” he murmurs as Leonie opens her door.

  I don’t respond with anything other than a dip of my chin as I step inside of her place. It smells like sweet heaven in here, and I ignore everything but the kitchen as my nose takes me toward cooling muffins.

  “Holy crap,” I murmur as I reach out and take one from the tray.

  “Good morning to you, too,” Quinn says.

  I turn, only just realizing she’s in the kitchen with me, and I smile.

  “Help yourself,” she chuckles.

  “You made these?” I ask in surprise.

  “I bake, but Ziven cooks,” she shrugs.

  “I haven’t had any real food in a while,” I murmur as my stomach grumbles.

  “Mika kept you busy before he left?” Leonie asks as she joins us.

  “So busy,” I say around my bite of heavenly, chocolate chip muffin.

  “I see,” Quinn smirks as her eyes narrow in on my neck.

  “Shit, I forgot about that. No wonder Ony was kind of… odd,” I murmur.

  “Ony?”

  “My new Byki,” I shrug.

  “I can’t believe he marked you up like that. He doesn’t seem the type,” Quinn mutters as she reaches for a muffin and starts to pick at it.

  I finish inhaling the one that was in my hand and reach out for another, taking a bite with a nod.

  “It’s like this everywhere.”

  “Ustin was that way when we were first together,” Leonie whispers with a smirk. “He still likes to mark me; he just does it so that it can be hidden by my clothes.”

  “What’s up with that?” I ask.

  “Marking their territory,” Quinn announces.

  “Well, make no mistake, if the big ring didn’t announce it, then my body purple from neck to thighs surely does say—Mikhail,” I murmur fanning my hand down my body while shoving more muffin in my mouth.

  I spend the rest of the day with Quinn and Leonie. Later in the afternoon, Quinn’s friend Kristy shows up. The four of us have a blast. We end the evening with a bottle of wine and desserts that Quinn whipped up while we all watched.

  “Tomorrow I have a meeting with an orphanage,” Leonie announces just as I’m standing to walk out of the door.

  “What time?” I ask.

  “Ten.”

  “Come knock on my door on your way out,” I say, watching as she smiles brightly.

  “It’ll keep our minds off of everything,” she whispers.

  “Definitely.”

  The plane lands in Puerto Escondido, and I should be focused on the mission at hand, but all I can think about is Oksana’s call from earlier. I hung up on her before she could say goodbye. I knew she would add in the words I love you, and while I enjoy hearing them tumble from her lips, I can’t return them yet.

  “Better get some sleep. We’ll wake at two in the morning and get to work,” Kirill, my old Pakhan from California, announces.

  We load up in the waiting cars. Where they came from, I have no fucking clue, but Kirill knows men and has men working for him from everywhere imaginable—including Mexico, apparently. It doesn’t take us long to arrive at a house. It’s bigger than I expected, but not massive, and it’s in the middle of nothing.

  “This is where we’re staying?” Timofei asks, looking around.

  “Yeah. Bratva owned, just in case someone needs to flee the U.S.,” Kirill says with a wink.

  “Good to know,” Timofei murmurs.

  It doesn’t take us long to unload, but walking in the house, I know that we won’t all fit, not even if we all slept on the floor. It just isn’t big enough. A cou
ple guys walk out on the back porch, and I watch as they throw their duffels down and lie on the ground. I find a spot against a wall and sink down to my ass, resting my back and head against the shitty stuccoed, uneven wall.

  “Do you think my father will really take Oksana again if this doesn’t happen?” Timofei asks as he slides down beside me.

  “I won’t let him,” I shrug.

  “But he’ll try,” he states. I nod. “You think about knocking her up to keep her?”

  “Pasha already said he’d take care of that, should it arise,” I grunt.

  “He wouldn’t,” Timofei says, shaking his head.

  “He’s not the same,” I point out.

  “But he’s not a monster, Mika. I know my pa. No way would he do that to my sister; no fucking way.”

  “I don’t want to think about it. This is why I have to complete this mission. End this shit with the Cartel, with Pasha, all at once. Be fucking done with it all,” I murmur. “But if it doesn’t end, if something happens to me…”

  “Could my sister be pregnant?” Timofei blurts.

  “Yeah,” I say, blowing out a puff of air.

  “I’ll always protect Oksana. My father won’t touch her, no matter what happens,” he vows.

  I nod, unsure of what else to say. If Timofei says he’s going to take care of Oksana, I believe him. I trust him. I’ve known him for a while, and he’s proven to be a trusted Bratva brother. I just don’t know if he can stand up to a man who holds the type of power his father does.

  “If Yakov can stand up to his father, if he can kill him for his atrocities, then I can stand up to my father to protect my sister. I hope it doesn’t come to that. In fact, I pray that it doesn’t. But I can also see how unhinged my father is, and has been since my ma’s death. Something needs to change,” he murmurs.

  “How do you change that? He isn’t grieving her passing. He’s too enraged. I know underneath it all that Pasha is a good man. I also know that a man with the type of anger and rage that he has building inside of him will do things that aren’t normal, aren’t rational, and aren’t humane,” I say.

  I’m thinking of myself. I, too, was a man filled with rage the way Pasha is. I lost my parents and my sister was sold. I was helpless in Russia while they were in America. There was nothing I could do to save them—to save my sister.