Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7)

by Hayley Faiman

  Vladimir sets Vadim down on the area rug and reaches for the bundle, murmuring something to the woman. She’s pretty, around twenty-five or so, and she’s now staring daggers at me. I feel extremely uncomfortable when Vladimir turns around and closes the distance between us.

  “This is Klara,” he murmurs as he holds the baby out for me.

  My body reacts naturally before my head can even think about any of it. I hold out my arms and allow him to place the baby there. I bring her closer to me and look down at her. She’s incredibly small, an infant. She’s asleep, but I can see her shock of light blonde hair, and I wonder if she’s got her father’s eyes like both Feliks and Vadim. My eyes well with tears as I reluctantly tear them away from the baby in my arms to look at my new husband.

  “I didn’t know,” I whisper.

  “I realize this,” he says.

  When he looks at me, it’s with sadness and a little pity, telling me without saying the words that he knows I will never have a baby of my own.

  “You may go, Lara,” he murmurs in English. She rattles something I don’t understand, and then he growls to her. She stomps her foot before she leaves us alone. Me, my husband that I’ve known for only a few hours, and four children.

  What the hell have I gotten into?

  I stare at the baby in my arms for at least ten minutes before she starts to squirm, and then her eyes open and her face scrunches before she starts to cry. My eyes widen and my heart starts to race in panic. I’ve never been around a baby enough to know what to do with it when it cries. Vladimir must sense my panic as he reaches for her with a chuckle.

  “She’s probably wet and hungry, they don’t do much at this age,” he smiles. He looks so kind, and he’s so gentle spoken that it just adds to my surprise. “Come, I’ll show you what to do.”

  The other children trail behind us, and I wonder, again, just what the hell I’ve walked into with this marriage.

  I should be angry with Yakov for not explaining this situation to Aleksandra, but I can’t deny that I enjoy watching the different stages of shock and awe on her face. This was not what she expected to walk into. I was concerned, at first, but as soon as she held Klara in her arms, the way that she looked down on her, I knew that this was the right woman to have chosen as my wife.

  “Have you cared for babies before?” I ask once we’re inside of Klara’s nursery.

  It’s much different from the rest of the house. All the children’s rooms are. I would not allow black to enter their bedrooms. It made Vera angry, but it was something I would not relent on. In fact, I didn’t even allow her to decorate the children’s nurseries or bedrooms. I hired an interior designer and gave her my expectations. Klara’s room is all soft pinks and whites, per my specifications.

  “No, I haven’t,” she says, sounding equally parts nervous and terrified.

  Setting Klara down on her changing pad, I keep one hand on her belly as I hold the other out for Aleksandra, she slips her hand in mine and I swear I feel a spark go from our connection before it surges throughout my entire body, much like when we kissed a few hours ago as we were pronounced husband and wife.

  It only takes me a few instructions, and Aleksandra has changed Klara’s wet diaper. The other children giggle as they play with Vadim on the floor. My calm, sweet children are already proving that they will take this change with a calming grace.

  Though I’m sure, to an extent, they miss their mother, Vera was as her house dictated, cold and harsh. She wasn’t a warm and gentle mother toward them, and they spent most of their time with the many nannies that flittered in and out of this house. None stayed too long, as Vera was not a woman who was easy to work for.

  “How old is she?” Aleksandra asks as she picks Klara back up, holding her close and inhaling her baby scent. It tugs at my heart, to see her holding my child with gentility and care, only just having met her a few hours ago.

  “Ten weeks,” I murmur and her eyes widen with the realization that my wife has only been dead for ten weeks.

  “Wow,” she breathes.

  The rest of the evening is spent with me explaining to her how the household runs. She looks like a deer caught in headlights the entire time, but she follows along and actively asks questions.

  It’s after dinner is consumed, a frozen meal that Lara prepared ahead of time, that I watch her interact with the older children. She’s playing with them, a game of sorts, and I just watch them.

  Klara is in her rolling bassinet sleeping, and they’re all just enjoying themselves. It looks like an ad for something. It all looks so perfect, and I know, in this moment, that this is where our lives were meant to be taken. That this woman was meant to enter into our family. It may be premature of me, but I can already feel the warmth of this woman fill this cold, harsh space.

  “Time for bed,” I call out as I walk from the kitchen into the living room.

  The oldest children give me groans but stand up immediately and start to clean up their game. Aleksandra turns to me and looks up from her spot on the floor as she bites her plump, bottom lip, her green eyes far too alluring, making me question my original plan—which was to introduce her to the children, let her assimilate, and then begin our physical relationship. Now, her looking up at me, coupled with the memory of that kiss form earlier, I’m thinking of abandoning the entire plan and taking her to bed tonight.

  I watch as Vladimir tucks all three of his older children in bed, teaching me their routine, but also showing me what a caring father he is all at the same time. It isn’t that he’s even doing it purposely.

  It’s the little things he does. The way he kisses the tops of their heads and inhales their scents once they’re tucked in tight. The way he shows Elizaveta that there is nothing to be afraid of in her closet, by opening it and turning the light on. The way he cuddles Vadim and whispers to him that he loves him before giving him an Eskimo kiss.

  The moment I laid eyes on Vladimir, I was immediately attracted to his looks. His blond hair and chiseled features are so different from what I’m used to being attracted to. But now, as he cares for his children, I’m not just attracted to him, I’m falling in lust with him as every minute ticks by.

  “Klara won’t wake again until midnight,” he murmurs after closing Feliks’ door gently behind him. “Let me show you to your room.”

  I realize that I haven’t seen the master suite, or his office area. Only the kitchen, living room, children’s playroom, and children’s bedrooms. Vladimir wraps his hand around mine and tugs me across the house, leaving Klara in her bassinet, fast asleep in the living room.

  I look over at Klara with concern, but he shakes his head. “She can go into her crib after her midnight feeding, then tomorrow she can have a bath,” he states. I press my lips together with a nod.

  When we step into the bedroom I’m surprised to see that it looks exactly like the rest of the house, black, and white, and cold. My brows knit together as I take it all in. There are no photographs, nothing personal, and I wonder if he eliminated them after her death or if it was always this way.

  “Your bags are in the closet. You don’t have to worry about her things, they’re gone,” he murmurs from behind me, his arms slipping around my middle.

  I stiffen in his hold and turn around to face him. “The children didn’t mention her, and I’m sorry, but this whole house seems so cold, aside from the children’s bedrooms.”

  I watch as he nods and then tips his lips in a smirk before he speaks.

  “I hired a decorator to handle their rooms, as I didn’t want them to have any black in them. Everything else, Vera did herself, and I hate it,” he grunts. “The children don’t mention her much because they weren’t around her much. They have always had nannies and care-givers. Vera wasn’t very warm toward them.”

  I gasp at his words, unsure if I’ve heard him correctly. How could any woman, let alone a mother, not be loving and caring toward those sweet children? They were absolutely lovely all eveni
ng. “I don’t understand,” I admit.

  “The last person I wish to discuss on my wedding night is Vera,” he mutters, but he doesn’t look angry, just annoyed. “But, as Yakov sent you here with zero explanation, we’ll talk of her tonight and tonight only. Otherwise, she doesn’t enter our marriage and most definitely not our bedroom ever again, yeah?”

  I nod, understanding his words and knowing that what he says is the way it will be. I was raised to know my place as a Bratva woman, and I know that my husband is always in charge of everything. Including what we do or do not discuss. I would much rather have our forbidden topic be his dead wife, instead of what it was with Denis, and that was his whores on the side.

  He takes a step back from me and lifts his chin toward the bed before he sits down and waits for me to do the same. We’re sitting next to each other, and his leg presses against mine. It shouldn’t make my heart skip a beat or continue to race faster and harder, but it does.

  “Vera and I were contracted. We were married for ten years and we had four beautiful children together. Vera was not a particularly loving woman, the children she gave me were because I wanted them, not her. She would have been happy to have none. We moved here because it was what she wanted, to be out of the city. The home is one she picked. I hired nannies because I did not trust her to care properly for the children; and we had a multitude of nannies, because she could not get along with any of them.

  “For whatever reason, she decided she knew more than the doctors, and had an at home birth, behind my back, with Klara. She suffered a ruptured uterus and bled to death, with the other three children home. I should be devastated that she’s gone, but I felt nothing but irritation. She did not care enough for the other children to follow three separate doctor’s advice. Maybe it makes me an asshole for bringing you here just ten weeks after her passing. Maybe it makes me even a bigger asshole that I chose you because you are very beautiful, but you are very unable to produce children.

  “I don’t know, but there you have it. I’m thankful Vera gave me those beautiful children to love, but she was not some fantastic loss to us,” he says, shaking his head. Nevertheless, I see a sadness that lies beneath his eyes. I’m not sure if it’s at the loss of her, or at what she could have been but never was.

  “My ex-husband,” I let out a breath, and he snorts.

  “I know of him, milaya moya.”

  I close my eyes for a beat before I open them and grin, “Nobody knows what happens in a marriage behind closed doors. I tried to love him, and for a while I thought that I achieved it. He became very angry when I couldn’t give him the heirs he so wanted.”

  Vladimir cups my cheek with his palm and runs his thumb along the bottom of my lip as his eyes stay connected with mine.

  “Did he hurt you?” I nod as I force myself to inhale and exhale, to breathe and stay calm. “No matter how angry I might become, I have never used violence with my wife or children. I will not hurt you.”

  I nod again and then speak without really thinking, just knowing that his warm hand feels so good against me, and his eyes look so warm and welcoming. “What about other women?”

  I watch as something flashes in his eyes, and it causes me to flinch. “It isn’t discussed, Aleksandra. You know this.”

  My eyes fill with tears that I try to keep at bay, but it doesn’t work. They spill down my cheeks and Vladimir looks at me with something that appears to be mild confusion. I’m unable to keep from continuing to cry. Once my tears start, they don’t stop. He just keeps staring at me. Then he surprises me when he leans forward and presses his lips to mine.

  Diving my tongue inside of her warm mouth is what I imagine my cock will feel like when it dives into her hot, wet pussy—like heaven. When she whimpers into my mouth, it only pushes me further, wanting more of her sweet taste. I keep one hand at her cheek and wrap my other around her waist, sliding it up to cup her breast, growling when she arches into my hold. I grip her breast tightly and she moans.

  “Aleksandra,” I whisper against her lips as I slowly pull away from her, looking into her shiny green eyes.

  “Vlad,” she murmurs. I smile, enjoying the sound of it coming from her mouth.

  “Those people who were part of our lives, they do not cross the threshold of this bedroom—not in thought, and not in voice,” I state. She nods and gives me a small smile. “In here is you, and me, and the promise of a future.”

  I watch in shock as she stands up. She takes a few steps, so that she’s in front of me, and then she wraps her fingers around the hem of her dress before she pulls it over her head. I blink at her, standing in front of me in a pair of flat gold shoes, her bra, and panties only. In silence, she toes her shoes off before she rids herself of the rest of her undergarments.

  “I cannot give you more children, Vlad, and for that I’m deeply sorry. But you have given me four beautiful ones, and a promise of so much more. I am indebted to you for that,” she says on a whisper.

  “Sandra,” I rasp as she picks up my hand by my wrist, running it down the center of her chest to just above her cunt.

  Turning my hand over, I cup her wet pussy with a groan before I gently slip two fingers inside of her. She’s wet, and I watch as she shivers, widening her legs a bit more for me. She lifts one of her hands and rakes her fingers through my hair, tangling them at the nape of my neck.

  Leaning forward, my eyes connected to her green ones, I suck one of her hard nipples in my mouth, causing her to shiver as she arches her back, pushing her tit closer toward me. I open my mouth wider and sink my teeth into the flesh of her breast.

  “More, please, Vlad,” she begs as she shivers again. Watching her eyes, I bite her tit a little harder, and she moans, her hips moving to ride my hand a litter faster.

  Goddamn, she’s absolutely stunning. Releasing her tit, my eyes glance at it, noticing my bite marks. I can’t help but grin, knowing there will certainly be a bruise there in the morning. Then I shift my eyes back up to hers, my fingers making come hither motions inside of her tight pussy.

  “Do you want my cock?” I ask. She nods shyly. “Then get down on your knees and show me how badly you want it.”

  Taking my fingers from inside of her, I watch as her eyes widen. It makes my cock strain against the zipper of my trousers. Then, without another word, she sinks to the floor and unbuttons and unzips my pants. I lift my hips as she tugs my pants and boxers down to my ankles. I unbutton my shirt and slip it off, tossing it to the floor behind her.

  I groan when she takes my cock in her hand and gently pumps it as she wets her lips. Gripping the edge of the bed, I keep my gaze on her hesitant one, watching and waiting for more. I’m rewarded when she opens her mouth and takes my entire length down her throat in one quick motion.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as I wrap one hand in her hair at the back of her head. “You feel so good, Sandra,” I grunt as I lift my hips slightly, enjoying the way she can take all of me down her warm throat.

  She moves her head back, her eyes continuing to stay on mine, and takes a few breaths before she does it again. I gulp a breath of air, not wanting to come down her throat, but instead inside of her. Fuck, she feels phenomenal.

  “Take me, milaya moya,” I grind out, calling her, my sweet again. She is just that, too—so goddamn sweet. I yank her neck back before I come down her throat, my chest heaving as I look into her green eyes.

  “Vlad,” she whispers.

  Releasing her hair, I wrap my hands around her waist and pick her up to straddle me, kicking my shoes and pants off as I position her above my cock. She doesn’t hesitate as she sinks down onto my hard, wet cock. She lets her head fall back once I’m completely inside of her. I let my hands gently guide up her back to her hair and tug her neck back as I take her breast in my mouth, the opposite one that I had in my mouth earlier.

  “Do you want my mark here, too?” I ask, tugging on her hair a little harder.

  Aleksandra moans, “Yes, please, Vlad.”

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nbsp; I open my mouth and take as much of her tit in my mouth as I can before I bite down and suck. She gasps, and I feel her pussy become even wetter around me as she starts to roll her hips. One of her hands holds behind my neck, keeping my mouth on her, while the other wraps around my bicep.

  She rides me, fast and hard, without reservation, and it causes me to growl against her flesh, biting her harder, sucking even firmer and know that she’ll most definitely carry my marks for days on end. It doesn’t detour me from doing it in the slightest.

  “Oh, shit,” she cries as her hips jerk. I feel her pussy clamp down around me with her climax.

  Standing up with her still on my dick, I turn us around, removing my mouth from her breast as I lie her down on the bed. She’s watching me with a lazy grin, and I move my hands to her waist as I pull out and then slam my cock inside of her.

  To my surprise, she widens her legs and lifts them even more for me. I wrap my hands beneath her knees and hold her legs even further apart. I push them up as I fuck her with power, slamming against her as I drive my cock deep inside of her with each thrust.

  “Vlad, yes. Oh, god,” she cries out as she reaches her arms up and fists the bedding in her fingers.

  She lifts her hips as much as she can, trying to meet each of my thrusts, and I know that I must be hurting her. I’ve never taken a woman this hard before, but I can’t control myself. Her cunt is so warm, so tight, and so fucking right, and she’s taking everything I’m giving her—it’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced.

  I come again, for the second time, and it’s with a surprised cry. Vladimir drops his head back and comes on a cry of his own. His is hoarse, and he stays planted inside of me as he attempts to catch his breath. Then he lifts his head as his gaze meets mine, a look of surprise on his face before he speaks.