“Did I hurt you, milaya moya?” His words are gentle, and it surprises me, but I love it.
I run my hands up and down his forearms and shake my head. “Not at all. I came twice,” I say with a small smile.
He grins, leaning over me, caging my head with his arms on either side as he gently fucks me with his semi-hardened cock. “If I have any say about it, you’ll come again before you sleep for the night,” he states before he nips my bottom lip.
“What does it mean? Milaya moya?” I ask curiously. He nuzzles my neck and brings his lips to my ear before he whispers my sweet in my ear. I shiver in his arms, unsure of how to feel about that, but loving it.
“Let’s shower before Klara wakes and wants her last bottle,” he murmurs as he slides out of me, offering me his hand. I take it and self-consciously try to cover my nakedness.
Vladimir starts the shower. Once it’s warm, he tugs me inside behind him. I look around and see his manly soap, body wash and shampoo, no conditioner on the shelf. “You’re so beautiful, milaya moya,” he states as he wraps his hands around my waist and tugs my bare breasts against his chest.
“Thank you,” I whisper, looking up at him in surprise.
“He didn’t tell you enough. I can tell by the way you tried to cover yourself; but trust me when I tell you that you are beautifully made.” I nod at his words, and look up at his handsome face, knowing he’s much better looking than I am, wondering how on earth he chose me, or why.
Vladimir lifts his hand and runs his fingers over my face, tracing my nose, then my lips before he leans down and presses his mouth to mine. We shower in silence and then once we’re dried off I walk over to the closet to find something to wear to bed.
“Aleksandra?” he asks. I turn to find him at the mouth of the door, a towel wrapped around his waist. “What are you doing? Come to bed,” he grunts.
“I need something to sleep in,” I whisper as I open my suitcase.
“You sleep in my shirt. Come to bed,” he states, holding out his hand for me.
“Your shirt?” I ask in surprise.
“Da, come.”
Taking his offered hand, I stand and follow behind him while he picks up his shirt from the floor. He holds it out for me, and I slip my arms inside, surprised when he buttons it and wraps his arm around me, tugging me forward and against his strong chest.
“Vlad?”
He kisses me, consuming me while I forget why I was questioning a single thing. Then we crawl into bed together and he tugs me against his side. He’s completely naked next to me. I’m not sure what it all means, but when my eye catches my wedding ring in the moonlight, I grin.
It’s a beautiful, cushion cut, platinum ring, surrounded by a halo of smaller diamonds. It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I have ever owned in my entire life. I’m beginning to think that the man who gave it to me is also the most beautiful man I’ve ever had in my entire life as well.
“Is he kind?” Oksana asks on the other end of the line.
I rock Klara as we sit in the cream colored tufted rocking chair in her bedroom. It’s one o’clock in the morning and Klara has just been fed, but I couldn’t bear putting the sweet bundle down in her crib just yet, so I’m enjoying her small body tucked against mine. I also decided to call Oksana, knowing she would be worried about me.
“He is,” I say, my face blushing, knowing she can’t see me but still feeling a bit shy about the three times I’ve orgasmed with my new husband—a virtual stranger.
“Tell me, please, you’re killing me,” she cries.
I tell her everything. I start from the very beginning—when I arrived, then the wedding, the children, and the best sex of my life. I even tell her about his deceased wife.
“He sounds too good to be true,” she states dreamily. “You deserve every minute of it.”
I nod in agreement and then I whisper to her, careful not to wake up Klara. “I’m a mom, Oksana. I have four children, and they’re absolutely beautiful.” Tears start to fill my eyes, and I hear Oksana sniffle on the other line.
“I’m glad that if you had to be taken away from me, all the way to Russia, that it is to be something you’ve always desired to be. I’m glad that he can give you everything you wish for.”
“It’s everything I’ve dreamt of, Oksana. Smart, beautiful, loving children, a man who loves them and shows it, caring for them in a way I didn’t think was possible for a Bratva man. And then, there’s the way he is with me,” I sigh.
“Sounds heavenly,” she breathes.
I laugh. “I know it’s only been a few hours, but Oksana, he looks at me the way Mika looks at you. I feel like I’m in a fairy tale.”
The sound of a throat clearing from across the room makes me jump slightly and I tell Oksana good bye before I take Klara to her crib and gently lie her down. I steal one last glance at her sleeping, sweet baby face, and then I turn to my husband, who is standing at the doorway.
“Who were you talking to?” he asks, taking my hand and gently tugging me toward our bedroom.
“Oksana Rybina, my best friend,” I shrug.
“How does her husband, Mika, look at her?” he asks as he turns on the baby monitor and shifts to face me.
My face heats with pink at his question. His gaze stays on me, so I clear my throat before I speak. “Like, without her, he could not fathom knowing how to breathe. Like, without her, his world would be dark. Like she’s almost the most important person in his entire world, and if he didn’t have children, then she most definitely would be.”
The words she’s just said to me, they leave me completely breathless. I don’t think about them, my cock suddenly needing to be inside of her. I walk up to her, my mouth pressing against those sweet lips, and my mouth devouring hers. Picking her up I carry her into the bedroom, before setting her down on her feet.
Wrapping my hands in my shirt that’s she’s wearing, I rip it off, sending buttons flying everywhere before I wrench it down her arms.
I wrap my hands around her hips and pick her up, removing my mouth from hers before I toss her onto the bed. I join her and flip her over onto her stomach, grabbing onto her hips and yanking them back as I thrust forward and fill her from behind with one quick thrust.
“Vlad,” she breathes.
I stay planted deep as I let one of my hands slip down her spine and then fist in her hair, yanking it and her head back.
“Ride my cock, Sandra. Fuck my goddamn dick,” I growl.
She lets out a moan before she does exactly as I’ve instructed. She pushes back against me as she fucks me. I grip her hair and her hip tightly. I force her to turn her head and look at me before I rear back and meet her hard thrust. Her mouth drops open slightly as she lets out a cry and grins.
“Harder,” she begs.
“You like the way your husband fills your tight cunt?” I ask as I thrust my hips forward when she pushes back, our rhythm timed perfectly.
“Yes, god yes, you feel so good, Vlad,” she says with a trembling voice.
Pushing her forward, I press my chest against her back and her body against the mattress as I fuck her, not allowing her to move and forcing her to just take me. I’m relentless, but she doesn’t protest, proving that earlier was not a fluke. This woman—my woman—can take what I give her.
“You going to come for me, Sandra?” I ask against the spot where her shoulder and neck meet before I sink my teeth into her skin.
“Fuck me, Vlad, make me come, baby,” she begs.
I give her everything I have, slipping my hand beneath her body and the mattress so that I can play her clit. There isn’t much room for my hand, but I find the nub of her clit easily, and my teeth sink into her skin as I fuck her cunt and play her clit, sending her over the edge in a matter of seconds. I fall over shortly after, my cum filling her for the third time in one evening—making it the most I’ve come in one night.
I lick the spot where I bit her, and she trembles beneath me. “Thank yo
u, Vlad,” she whispers.
“Mmmm?” I ask as I continue to lick and kiss the bite mark on her neck.
“Thank you for choosing me, and for being exactly everything I could have hoped for. Also, thank you for giving me a family that I could never have on my own.”
I pull out of her immediately and roll to the side of her, gathering her in my arms. I pull her up my body, so that her chest is against mine. “Do not thank me, Sandra. I selfishly chose you. I thought with my head and my cock, not with my heart. What I can give you pales in comparison to what you can give me and my children,” I state.
“Maybe we were meant to live this life, Vlad. Maybe we were always meant for each other, but we had to have the life we had in order to fully appreciate what we can offer each other,” she whispers.
“Walking into that nursery, with you rocking Klara—it was the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed in my life. She didn’t hold them; not much, anyway. Seeing you…” I shake my head. “Absolutely, breathtaking, Aleksandra. You give that beauty to me, and to my children, it is more than anything I could ever give you.”
“Vlad,” the voice chuckles on the other end of the line.
“You didn’t tell her, warn her,” I state as my way of greeting him.
He sighs. “I didn’t. It was for good reason. She may not have gone to you; she may have fought it, had she known,” Yakov mutters.
“I don’t know if what you did was right or wrong, but I’m glad that you encouraged this contract, this match,” I admit.
I am happy, too. Much more than I thought possible in such a short amount of time, especially being a widower. Aleksandra is more than I could have ever asked for in a match. I feel as though we’ve known each other for months, instead of mere days. Our paths came together at a time that was needed by both of us, and I truly believe that she was meant for me.
“I’m glad to hear you happy again, brother,” Yakov states.
I clear my throat. “I have a job to complete before I can go home to her. But I wanted to call you.”
“Come to New York soon, bring your brood,” he chuckles. I agree before ending the call.
I site my scope on my target again. An American ambassador. A man who, according to my dossier, has borrowed one too many Russian Bratva call girls and not returned them. He thinks that he can dispose of Russian whores and not answer to anybody about it. Unfortunately for him, he likes the best, and the best are Bratva women. He has no clue that’s who he’s been hiring and torturing, abusing, and then dumping.
Tonight is his last night, and the girl he’s currently got tied up to a bed will live to see another day. He won’t, but she will. I watch as he brings back his whip. Before he can deliver his blow, I pull the trigger.
The call girl left the window open for me, and a sound isn’t made as he falls to the ground, his steel cable flogger whip tumbling from his fingers. Sergei discovered the last woman he had. One of our officers found her body and allowed Sergei to see her. He knew exactly what had caused her death. This was one of the few devices the ambassador used.
I keep an eye on the call girl for a few minutes, until the door to the suite opens and Sergei, himself, strolls inside and unties her. I take that as my cue to leave and load up my weapons. I’ve been a Torpedo, a hired killer, for the Bratva since I was fourteen years of age. My marksmanship is unparalleled to any other in this area.
Once I’m packed up, I send Sergei a text that I’m headed back to my home. He confirms that all is well and my money will be transferred within the hour. I throw my equipment in the back of my sedan and head toward home. This is the first time I’ve left Aleksandra home alone with the children for more than a few hours. She’s only been here a week and learning the routines.
On day two, Lara showed at her normal time and tried to take Klara from Aleksandra’s arms; then she tried to tell Aleksandra how to make breakfast for the children, and I fired her. The look of shock on both her and Lara’s face when I did was almost comical.
I handed Lara some money and told her to leave. Aleksandra has been doing everything herself since, including cooking and cleaning. But she has yet to be completely alone with all four of them for more than a few hours.
By the time, I pull into the garage, I’ve been away from home for about ten hours. I see that the lights are on in the entire house, and I’m surprised. It’s late, and the children should be in bed already. At least the older ones should. A frown tugs on my lips as I open the side door and walk into the kitchen.
I freeze in my tracks at the sight before me.
I’m sitting in the middle of the kitchen. There’s throw up everywhere around me, on me, and assuredly in part of me, like my hair. Klara is crying, Vadim is crying, I’m crying, and thankfully Feliks and Elizaveta are fast asleep in bed. But Klara and Vadim are sick, and I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know what to do. I’m not cut out for this. I can’t handle it.
“What on earth has happened?” a voice booms. I look up from my pathetic place on the floor to see that Vladimir is home.
With trembling lips, I find my shaky voice and speak. “They’re sick, and every time I clean up a mess, another mess happens. Now I’m just sitting here because I don’t know what to do,” I cry.
He mutters some words in Russian, before he starts to laugh. If I wasn’t covered in thrown up baby formula, and peanut butter sandwiches with applesauce, I would probably laugh at me as well. However, as of right now, none of this seems very comical.
“You take care of yourself, Sandra. I’ll get the kids cleaned up and then we’ll reassess,” he chuckles.
“There is no reassessing. They’re just going to throw up again.”
He bends down and takes Klara from my arms and feels her head before reaching down and doing the same to Vadim. “They don’t have fever. Probably just a stomach bug. Can you find the Pedialyte in the fridge? Fill a bottle for Klara and then a sippy cup for Vadim.”
“What’s that?” I ask as I stand up and walk to the fridge.
“It keeps them from getting dehydrated. It’s better for them than those sports drinks, but essentially it’s a sports drink,” he shrugs. I stare at him in awe for a moment before I hurry and do as he asks. By the time I have a bottle filled, he’s got Klara in the sink bathing her. “Go get cleaned up. I have them,” he urges gently.
I do as he says, knowing I smell awful. Once I’m clean, I feel absolutely terrible. I have no clue what I’m doing. I’m completely in over my head, and I have a feeling that Vladimir will be hiring help again—bringing that awful Lara woman back because I can’t do this alone.
With clean hair, clean sweats, and a clean tank, I make my way back into the kitchen to see that the floor has been wiped clean and the room is empty. I shuffle my bare feet toward the children’s bedrooms and spy in on Vadim first, who is clean and sound asleep in bed. Then I make my way toward Klara’s nursery and my breath escapes me at the sight.
Vladimir is sitting in the rocking chair, his sleeves rolled up, his hair looking handsomely disheveled as he holds a bottle to Klara’s mouth. He looks up at me and grins before standing and setting her down in her crib. Then he quietly walks over to me and closes the door behind him.
“Shouldn’t she sleep with us? I don’t want her to choke on her own vomit,” I whisper.
“We have a video monitor, and we’ll hear her and Vadim. I put a monitor in his room tonight as well. They kept their first helping of Pedialyte down. I believe they’ll be all right for the evening,” he murmurs as he presses his hand against my lower back and gently pushes me toward our side of the house.
Once we’re in our bedroom, Vladimir turns on two monitors, and I look at them to see that both children are fast asleep. “I’m terrible at this,” I whisper as tears stream down my face.
Vladimir sits down on the bed next to me and pulls me into his side, placing his hand at the back of my head, holding it to the side of his neck. My tears flow, yet again, against him. Then he tugs m
y hair and my neck back as he looks down into my face.
“You’re not terrible at this. You tried your best, and you made it another day where they were breathing,” he grins.
“I didn’t know what to do. You walked in and, in an hour, you had everything handled and they were asleep,” I blubber.
“I’ve also been doing this for much longer than a week, milaya moya,” he laughs as his eyes search mine.
I shake my head, or at least try to, but he’s still got his fingers tangled in my hair. “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m not good, and I didn’t know what to do, and I probably won’t know next time either.”
“Sandra,” he says with a rasp. “You are a beautiful mother to my children. Give yourself a break. It’s only been a few days, milaya moya.”
“What if I never get it? What if I’m always this bad at caring for them?” I whisper.
“Did any of them not eat today?” he asks. I shake my head.
“Did they get injured because you completely neglected them? Did they go to bed dirty?”
I continue to shake my head with a gasp. I cannot fathom allowing any of those things to occur.
“Then you have not failed,” he murmurs as he cups my cheek and runs his thumb over my bottom lip. “You will not fail them. The little things, the knowing what to give them when they’re sick, knowing their likes and dislikes, all of those little things? They will come with time, milaya moya. Not one single parent knows what they’re doing the first week. I still don’t know what I’m doing half of the time.”
I open my mouth to say something, to tell him that he certainly does know what he’s doing, but before I can utter a sound, his mouth is on mine. His tongue fills me, and I melt into him with a moan. My heart races as his hand moves from my cheeks to my waist and he lays me down on the bed, maneuvering himself over me. I widen my legs as his hips fall between them, his hard length pressing against me through his pants and mine.
“Sandra,” he rasps.
His lips travel down my neck as his hands tug my pants and panties down. I whimper when his hands wrap around the insides of my knees and spreads me wide apart. Then his mouth is on me and my head shoots up in surprise as I rise to my elbows. He sucks my clit and flicks it with his tongue, sending shivers throughout my entire body.
Forever my Badman (Russian Bratva Book 7) Page 29