“If she won’t defy her father then she doesn’t deserve you,” I whisper.
“I wish it were that easy. It’s different for you. You’re not Bratva, not really. Your situation is nothing like hers; not better or worse, just different,” he says, trying to explain.
I don’t understand their strict rules about contracts and marriages, about who can be with whom, or about how the men pretty much get the say-so in everything. It seems like they’re living with archaic rules and refuse to adapt to the current day and time.
“She’s the daughter of some powerful Pakhan, how does she not get to choose her husband?”
“Because she’s the daughter of a powerful Pakhan,” he murmurs.
“This isn’t the fifteen-hundreds, and she’s not royalty,” I announce.
Mika chuckles as he pulls into a parking spot and then turns to me with a smile on his face.
“You’re adorable when you get all fired up, mishka—but honestly, it is very much like the fifteen-hundreds, and she is very much like royalty. Her marriage is important, and I know and understand why Gavril was chosen above me. I don’t like it, but I understand it. His brother was a traitor, he was a piece of shit, and now it is time to heal the Zima family and the rest of the Bratva,” he explains.
“By forcing Oksana to marry him, it’s going to heal everyone?” I ask, practically rolling my eyes.
“It’s a start,” he says as he slides out of the car, abruptly ending the conversation.
I don’t say anything else as I see Kristy sitting inside of the restaurant through the window. Mika murmurs that he’ll be a couple tables away, close enough to see me, but far enough away where he won’t hear anything we talk about.
“You don’t want to hear about Ziven and his fabulous sex skills?” I ask as the hostess takes me back to where Kristy is seated.
“He’s my boss, so, no,” Mika grunts before he winks and walks away from me.
“He’s cute,” Kristy says as I sit down.
“My guard,” I explain. She grins.
“Lucky girl, a guard.”
“I’ll take it,” I shrug.
I realize that I am outside, almost alone, and I haven’t freaked out once. Mika distracted me with conversation the entire time, even up to the point where I sat down with Kristy. I don’t know if he did it on purpose, but I don’t care. I’m just relieved and happy that he did.
“When are you going to come to the salon and visit me? Get your nails done?” Kristy asks as she takes a sip of wine.
The waiter arrives and I order a white wine as well. Then I order a salmon salad with a side of garlic cheese bread, and stuffed mushrooms to share. Kristy orders, and then her smile widens before she speaks.
“Look at you, carb-loading,” she giggles.
“I’m starving. I had a long night,” I explain.
“I just bet you did. You look good, happy, full,” she says.
“Gaining weight, chunky,” I add.
“Not chunky. I don’t think that could be possible, but you look great. Ziven approves, I assume?”
“He does,” I blush.
We spend two hours talking. She tells me about her four children and how her husband, Edik, would like to have another. She rolls her eyes with that confession, but then leans in close and whispers that she stopped taking her birth control without telling him. She wants to surprise him with the fifth.
Her mention of birth control makes my eyes widen.
“Oh, no,” I whisper.
“Hmmm?”
“I was supposed to contact Doctor Sokoloff and get back on birth control,” I say with a cringe.
“Could you be?” she asks, looking down at my belly and then back up.
“I don’t know. I guess, I mean, who knows? It’s a possibility, right?”
“I’ll come over tomorrow with a test. We’ll take it together,” she smiles.
“What if I am?”
“You’re married. I’m sure Ziven knows it’s possible as often as you two boink.”
I giggle at her choice of word, and then I grow somber almost immediately when I think of the fact that I could be pregnant. I’m still not fully healed inside from Oswald. I don’t know if I could handle a baby, psychologically.
“It’ll be okay,” she says, taking my hand and giving it a squeeze across the table.
“Will it?” I ask.
“It will. Trust me,” she whispers.
“How do you know?”
“That’s a story for another time; but trust me, I know,” she assures me.
I signal to Mika that I’m finished, and then I stand, as does Kristy. The fun mood we had is now gone, and I wonder what on earth I’m going to do. What if I am pregnant? How will Ziven react? How will I react? I’m downright terrified.
The ride back to the condo is silent. Thankfully, Mika doesn’t try to engage in conversation with me. I need time to try and process what could be a new reality for me. I bite my bottom lip and close my eyes.
Holy shit—I could be pregnant.
I thank the man they call Soar, and shake his hand before I start to walk away from the warehouse. It’s been cleaned of the three men whose blood I spilled not long ago, and now it’s housing the shipment from California that the Notorious Devils have driven over.
“Hey, man, you know where I could party?” he calls out.
I turn to him and grin.
“What kind of party?” I ask.
“One that involves pussy, maybe a little green?”
“I might know some people. I’ll make a call, get you hooked up,” I offer.
“’Preciate it,” he murmurs.
I make a call to Timofei and let him know that one of our motorcycle friends wants to party, and then I inform him exactly how he’d like to do so. Timofei chuckles and agrees to make arrangements with a couple of women and offers to send a car to pick him up. When in business, you must always keep your associates and their men happy. Whatever Soar wants, within reason, he’ll have. Pussy and weed are easily accessible and not a hardship for me to provide for him.
“A car is on the way to pick you up,” I mutter. “What about your man?” I ask, lifting my chin to the man who accompanies him.
“Nah, he’s good. Torch doesn’t play around,” he grins.
“Okay. Thank you for the fast delivery, and give my regards to MadDog,” I say, referencing his boss, the President of the club.
“Will do, brother,” he rumbles.
I leave my men to take care of the business of unloading the truck and storing all of the merchandise to distribute tomorrow night. I promised Quinn that I would be home at a decent hour, when the sun was still up, so that I could fuck her. I aim to make good on my promise.
The drive back to the condo seems to take forever, and my mind drifts to the fact that Quinn saw the news this morning.
She saw the reports on Johnson’s death, and I wonder how she’s handling it all. She’s been incredibly strong, and she’s healed both physically and psychologically incredibly fast. I hope that this isn’t something that will break her, or send her mind back to the place where she was when she was with him.
When I finally park my car, I just sit in silence for a moment. I’m not afraid to move, but I’m not anxious to see if she’s in some kind of state or upset over his death, either. She sounded all right on the phone earlier, but now she’s had all day long to contemplate him and his death.
“Pussy,” I grunt before I force myself to open my door and walk toward my building.
I’m acting like a pussy, too. It shouldn’t matter if she tries to retreat to a bad place. I’m a man, I’m her man, and I will bring her back to me—Every. Single. Time.
I unlock the condo’s front door and walk inside, careful not to make too much noise. My breath hitches when I see her.
Quinn is standing on the balcony, her boot covered feet resting on a thin bed of snow, and her blonde hair glimmering in the sunshine as she looks out at the s
now-covered grass and pond below her. She’s wearing a puffy vest and skin tight jeans.
I make my way toward her, opening the door then wrapping my hands around her waist, beneath her vest, before I press my lips to her temple. She melts against my chest with a sigh but doesn’t speak. I slide my hands underneath her shirt and splay them out across her belly, wondering, not for the first time, if I’ve put a baby inside of her yet.
“You’re home,” she whispers.
“What are you doing out here, katyonak?”
“Enjoying some sun,” she shrugs.
“You lie, my wife,” I murmur against her temple.
“Thinking,” she admits with an exhale, probably annoyed that I called her on it.
“About Johnson?”
“No, not at all, actually. After I talked to you this morning, I haven’t thought of him once,” she admits. I can’t stop my smile.
“Then what are you thinking about?”
“You,” she says as she turns in my arms.
Her lips press against mine before I can say anything else, and then her tongue fills my mouth. I moan as I taste her sweet lips and tongue.
My hands travel down to cup her ass, and I pick her up before setting her down on the banister. She yelps, as the wet snow seeps through her tight jeans.
“Ven,” she whispers against my lips.
“Did I get you all wet?” I ask with a smile.
“You did,” she admits as her lips graze my jaw.
“How does your ass feel today?” I ask as one of my hands tangles in her soft, blonde hair.
“Deliciously sore,” she whispers.
“Your pussy?”
“Neglected.”
ZIVEN PICKS ME UP and carries me straight to the bedroom. I vaguely hear the balcony door slamming behind him as my eyes stay glued to his. My sweet husband, my husband that came home early because he knew I wanted him before he left this morning, and he wanted to make good on his promise. My husband who killed a man who abused me, something that wasn’t a reality until I saw it with my own eyes.
“Undress me, my katyonak,” Ziven rumbles as he untangles me and sets me on my feet.
I do as he’s requested and I slowly undress him, taking my time to kiss and lick different parts of his body until he’s completely naked and standing in front of me, his cock jutting out and begging for attention.
I start to reach for his hard length, but he wraps his fingers around my wrist and stops me. Then, without a word, he slowly peels my clothes off, until I’m completely nude.
“You’re so beautiful, Quinn,” he rasps as he licks his lips and his eyes travel up and down my body.
“Ziven,” I whimper, pressing my thighs together.
“How do you want me to fuck you?” he asks.
I blush at his words, and even more at the fact that he wants me to actually tell him.
“I don’t care; however, you want,” I whisper.
“Good answer, but this is for you, katyonak. How do you want me?”
I think about his question. Choosing how we make love isn’t something I normally do. Ziven is always in control and, honestly, I like that about him—about us. But I can’t deny that there is something extremely exciting and powerful about being able to make this decision right now.
“I just want you inside of me, Ziven, it’s all I’ve been able to think about today,” I lie.
I’ve only been able to think about the fact that I could be pregnant all day, but I’m not about to say anything to him until I know for sure.
Ziven lifts his hand and wraps it around my waist before he tugs me into his body, our chests brushing against each other. I look up at him through my lowered lids and eyelashes. Without a word, his lips press against mine and he consumes me, just as he always does every time he’s anywhere near me.
One of his hands slides down my body, and his fingers gently glide through my wet center before he thrusts two inside of me. I gasp and widen my eyes as I begin to ride his hand, unable to stop my body from moving. I’ve been so turned on all day long that I already feel as though I’m about to come.
“Ven,” I whimper.
“Come on my hand, then you can have my dick,” he growls as he leans forward and nips my bottom lip with his teeth.
My legs shake before my knees give out, and I gasp with my climax. Ziven’s hand on my waist tightens as he holds me firmly against him. I ride his hand until my orgasm has completely left and I’m just a pile of relaxed flesh.
Ziven walks me over to the bed and lays me down, my legs dangling over the edge. My eyes stay glued to his, and I grin when his hands grab where my knees bend and he spreads me wide.
He slowly enters me, and I groan when he’s fully seated inside of my pussy, his eyes downcast and focused on our connection. He lifts one of my legs and places my ankle on his shoulder as he sinks a little deeper inside of me.
My eyes widen at the new position, and my body tenses slightly.
“Relax, katyonak, feel me move inside of you,” he murmurs.
I force myself to relax around him, feeling every stroke of his cock as he moves inside of me, and I let out a moan. When I feel his thumb against my clit, I almost cry out, but I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself as calm as possible.
I arch my back as he brushes his fingers against my clit, his thrusts becoming a little faster and harder with each down stroke of his dick.
“Ziven,” I whimper, grabbing the sheets beside me in my fists.
“I want to feel you come again, Quinn. Can you do that for me?” he rumbles between breaths.
“I want to,” I say with a nod.
He continues to pump in and out of me, harder and faster, sweat now sheening both of our bodies. I feel him pinch my clit, and my pussy instantly clamps down around his cock, trying to hold him inside. He refuses to relent as he fucks me so hard my entire body moves on the bed. Then, with a long groan, he throws his head back and stills inside of me.
“Christ,” he whispers, releasing my leg and bending over, placing his forearms on either side of my head.
“Perfect,” I practically purr, wrapping my legs around his waist.
“Mmm, your pussy feels so good. It’s all wet and warm,” he whispers as he slides his nose alongside mine before he presses his lips to mine.
“You and your obsession with me having your cum inside of me,” I say wrinkling my nose.
“It feels good though, right? Being full and sticky,” he grins.
“Ziven,” I hiss in embarrassment.
“Nobody is here but us, katyonak. You can admit you like your husband’s cum inside of your pretty little cunt. It’s nothing to be embarrassed of,” he chuckles. His cock slips from me as his lips touch mine in a sweet kiss.
“You can be so gross, and yet so sweet,” I whisper against his mouth.
“Hmm, I’m always sweet,” he grins as he stands up. “You want to go out for dinner tonight?”
I look at the skyline, upside down, and I see that there are some clouds rolling in, like it could perhaps storm, and I shake my head.
“No, let’s stay in,” I offer with a shrug.
“I’ll cook,” he smiles.
“I’ll bake dessert.”
“It’s been too long since you’ve made me something sweet to eat,” he mumbles as he walks into the closet and grabs a pair of sweats to pull on.
“Hmm, someone has kept me busy in bed,” I cluck as I reach for his button-up shirt and slide it on, closing a few of the buttons in the middle before I find my panties and shimmy them back up my legs.
“Don’t clean my cum from your pussy, Quinn,” he demands before he walks out of the room.
“Ziven, seriously, I have to,” I call out.
“You do, I’ll punish you.”
I stand in the bedroom and I think about his punishment, wondering what it may consist of. This is the second time he’s mentioned some form of punishment for what he feels would be disobedience. I can’t help t
he fact that I’m fairly curious about it. Maybe one day I’ll be brave enough to find out what it could be.
That day is not today.
Ziven makes dinner for us while I bake a pretty, delicious looking, butter pecan cheesecake with a sugary buttery crust. I can’t wait to taste it, even if it looks much too pretty to eat. I’m just placing it in the fridge to cool when he informs me that dinner is ready.
Neither one of us feels like eating at the table, so we take our plates to the sofa and dig in. Ziven flips through the television channels and he stops when he finds a show on BBC America. It’s about a knight, and I’ve been watching it, trying to catch up on the first season before the second starts.
“How’d you know I’ve been watching this?” I ask, arching a brow.
“I turn on the television in the morning to catch the early news, and it’s always on this channel. I figured there was something of interest to you that plays on it,” he shrugs.
When we’re finished eating, I place my empty plate on the coffee table, along with his, and then I curl into his side, resting my head on his shoulder. I place my hand in his and let out a contented sigh.
This is where I was always meant to be. This is my happy place.
I hear a bang and then wood splintering before there are loud male shouts for us to get on the ground. I scream as I turn my head and see a swarm of men in black uniforms filling our living room.
“Get down,” Ziven’s calm voice orders. He dips his chin to the ground.
I do as he says and get on the ground, on my belly. Ziven does the same. My arms are wrenched back and handcuffs are placed on my wrists.
Then I place my cheek on the ground as I watch one of the men pick Ziven up by his wrists and start to speak.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to speak to an attorney, and to have an attorney present during any questioning. If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be provided for you at government expense.”
Ziven doesn’t say a word to the officer; instead, he turns to me.
Protected by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 6) Page 21