Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) (18 page)

His hand slides up the center of my back before he applies pressure. My chest goes down further, causing me to gently collide with the floor, my cheek resting on the plush carpeting. Radimir grabs the sides of my panties and wrenches them down my thighs, right above where my leggings reside. Both of his hands grab the globes of my ass as he spreads my cheeks apart.

“Aside from your face, this is the most beautiful sight,
kotik
,” he groans, his voice husky and heavy.

I hiss as he slides himself deep inside of me, my core still tender from just a few hours ago. Radimir wraps his fingers around my hips and stays planted deep inside, his breathing heavy, filling the space around us. Gently, he slides halfway out of me and then back in, his strokes slow and languorous.

Radimir continues gliding, almost lazily with precision. He said this would be quick, but it seems he has changed his mind. He is moving the exact opposite of fast. I try to swivel my hips for more contact, but his fingers tighten, digging even harder into my hips, and I pause my movements
. I need so much more, it almost hurts.

“
Radimir
.” I whimper his name in hopes that he will make me come. I need it so very badly.

“I want you to touch yourself, Emiliya. Make yourself come around my cock,” he growls. My face heats in embarrassment.

“I-I can’t,” I admit. I’m almost in tears as he continues his achingly steady rhythm.

Radimir growls and takes my hand from the floor, pulling it to my belly and down between my legs, guiding my fingers with his. It feels dirty and wrong that my own fingers are touching my body in front of him.

My life has been about my training, how to be proper and good for my future husband. Educating myself in how to take care of him, and trying to find an escape to the whole madness of being that subservient wife. Hiding that part of myself that would make me unseemly to my husband, that part where I took pleasure, late at night, and alone.

Radimir’s expert fingers stay on mine, making mine move in perfect rhythm, until they were gone and I was doing all of the work, and enjoying it. His hand slides up to my chest and he pulls and tugs on my nipples, one after the other, twisting them in his fingers while I touch myself. All the while, he keeps gliding in and out of me.

I am on sensory overload, and I love it. My hips buck and move with the rhythm he has set, and soon I am screaming out his name with a violent orgasm. I feel my core clamp down around Radimir’s cock, and I shake with the power of my release.

Staying deep inside me for a beat, Radimir quickly recovers and begins to wildly bury himself with a need and animalistic nature I don’t quite expect. My body is sated and limp, unable to support my weight.
I let him use me
, holding my hips as he fucks me with all of his might.

It hurts, it hurts so good that I feel myself climbing toward another climax. I try to shake my head out of its lusty haze, but I can’t. Then Radimir’s fingers slap my clit once, twice, three times before he stills inside of me. I come with him. It is short, it is powerful and I relish in the way it makes me feel.

I feel like a…

Beautiful.

Powerful.

Sexy.

Seductress.

T
HE TINY WOMAN ASLEEP
in my lap is more than I could have ever hoped for. I am in awe that she still wants me. I was concerned, after being separated for so long, that she would have outgrown her little fascination with me.

I may have fallen for her at first sight, but I was under no impression she felt the same—even after she came to the penthouse and seduced me home. I thought she was trying to secure her safety, her place in this life that she was resigned to live.

How could a woman so beautiful, rich, and famous want a man like me?

Yes, I am her protector, but not once did I believe she would willingly lie with me—especially after I took her so roughly the first time. In actuality, I thought that I had scared her away, that she would never want to look at me again. The way she shut down, the way I hurt her, how can she truly forgive a bastard like myself?

I have a darkness inside of me that I have not been able to conquer, and I can be a nightmare to be around when it consumes me. It does dominate me inside, sometimes too often. I never want to hurt her and I know, eventually, I will—again.

My dark thoughts of the past sometimes take over, and I do not always react favorably to other people. On those days, I tend to stay away from the general population and lock myself inside my home with a bottle of vodka. Klavdia knew when to stay away. Not that it was a concern of hers, anyway. She was too busy fucking other men.

Sasha, our security and driver, along with Dima, the other security, are in the front seat, hauling ass to get us to our destination at a decent hour. I close my eyes for a moment, remembering the tears Emiliya shed as she said goodbye to her friend, cousin by marriage, and companion these past weeks, Haleigh.

I am very surprised by Emiliya’s grasp of the English language, and I cannot thank Oliver and Haleigh enough. It will help our transition immensely.
A transition Emiliya knows nothing about, yet
. I open my eyes and see that the airplane is in the distance. The time has come for us to leave. Emiliya’s safety is my priority at this point.

“Emiliya, wake up,” I order softly as I gently shake her sleeping body.

“Where are we?” she asks, disoriented and cute as fuck.

“We are going on a little airplane ride. You can go right back to sleep,
kotik
,” I murmur. Her eyes widen in surprise.

“I thought we were going home, Radimir. Where is this plane taking us?” she quickly rattles off. It makes me smile, which I can tell irritates the hell out of her.

“Good you know English now, Emiliya. We go to America,” I say in English. She narrows her eyes at me before she smiles widely, taking my breath away with the action.

“Will we see Yakov?” she asks sweetly.

I want to throw back my head in laughter, my sweet girl trying to get what she wants with sugar. She will get whatever she wants this way, but I cannot tell her that, or she will try to rule over me.

I love her demeanor, soft and sweet
.

“We will see him at the airport, but we will not be staying with him,
kotik
. We still have not found his woman; and with the breech of security, I do not want to put you in more danger. We will be landing in New York to board another flight, and then we will be going to California,” I inform her once the men have left the car.

Nobody knows our final destination, except for my new
Pakhan,
Kirill Baryshev
,
in California. I aim to keep it that way. Sasha and Dima are only with us until New York, then they will be put in Yakov’s service. He will, in turn, give me two of his men.

In these situations, every person must stay on their toes. The fewer the people that know the plan, the safer my Emiliya will be.

“I have always wanted to go there, Radimir,” she grins, throwing her arms around my neck and holding me close.

Emiliya’s soft tits press against my chest, making me hard again. I could stay buried inside of her all fucking day long. She always feels so good. She is
my
Emiliya.

“Come, we must hurry,” I whisper in her ear. I pull away and take her small hand in mine, pulling her along with me out of the vehicle.

“I want to lie on the beach all day long one day, Radimir. Will you let me?” she asks. Her eyes look so very hopeful.
I am a pussy
. I cannot deny her.

“My sweet
kotik
. If you wish to lie on the beach all day long, then I cannot deny this. I will, however, not allow your perfect skin to burn, so you must let me go with you,” I demand with a grin as we walk toward the plane.

“You want to rub lotion on me then?” Her eyebrow quirks with her question and I cannot help my wide smile in return. “You may be my cabana boy then, Radimir,” she mutters, as if she is afraid the comment will anger me.

Perhaps being thought of as any kind of servant by any other woman may, in fact, anger me. Coming from her, however, it
delights
me. I cannot contain my laughter.

Once we are comfortably seated in the plane and taxiing down the runway, my body relaxes. The pilot is one of ours,
Bratva
, and the flight attendant a daughter of a
Boevik
of mine. I ask her to bring me some vodka and Emiliya a glass of champagne.

“I don’t need champagne, but I won’t turn it down,” Emiliya smiles. I grin at my woman. No fuss, no muss, and completely gorgeous.

“A celebration. A vacation for us. Finally, we honeymoon,” I say, running my hand up her arm.

I want to distract her from the hell surrounding us. The unknowing of what is to come. The disappearance of Ashley. I rest my palm at the base of the back of her neck, my favorite spot of hers to hold onto—aside from her ass, when I’m fucking her sweet pussy.

“That sounds perfect, Rad. I must confess, though, I already miss Haleigh,” she sighs, looking out the window to the ground below us.

“These are uncertain times,
kotik
. I have to ensure your safety. I cannot have you two together any longer. At least for now. It is as if you are sitting ducks.” I take a breath before continuing. “I need to talk to you in all seriousness. If something happens to me, being my widow will ensure your safety in the
Bratva
. You won’t be gifted or sold to another. You will also have access to all of my money,” I explain, watching her bottom lip quiver.

“Yes, I understand, Rad,” she says quietly.

The flight attendant appears with the champagne, and I instruct my little pussycat to drink it down quickly, hoping that it will calm her nerves. We have nine more hours of our flight, and my woman needs to rest.

“Sleep,” I order quietly.

Emiliya nods, resting her head against my shoulder. I slide my hand to wrap around her slim shoulders, and then I use my fingers to play with her midnight, silk hair.

“I never thought I would fall for the man that I would be given to. Thank you, Radimir, for being so perfect,” she murmurs on a yawn. It feels like a punch to my gut.

Perfect
?

I only know that word pertains to her. Nothing in my life has been perfect until she snuck inside of my heart. I wouldn’t have known perfect if it slapped me in the face, until she smiled at me the first time. I have lived my life first as a whore, and now as a killer who lives in a dirty, fucked up world. Yet, this creature calls
me
perfect?

I close my eyes and see visions of my Emiliya on the beach, in her assuredly skimpy, little bikini. As I continue to fall further into sleep, the visions of her change. My dreams are filled with two brown haired boys and a little black haired princess.

Children—
our children
.

Her face lights up in my vision, and she blows me a kiss from her full, pink lips. I feel
good, clean
, and
happy
. I have never felt that way in my entire life. It is foreign, but if anybody can make me feel that way, it will be my
angel
, my
pussycat
, my
queen
—my
Emiliya
.