Seducing the Badman (Russian Bratva #2) (31 page)

“You stay here with the babies,
Golubushka
,” Maxim murmurs.

Emiliya turns to me with nothing but worry and questions swimming in her eyes. I wrap my arm around her and press my lips to the mark on her neck.
My mark
. The mark that showed all those bastards at that party that she is fucking
mine
. They looked, too. I watched them take in my Emiliya’s body. Her ass swaying in her short as fuck skirt; her entire back exposed; her tits obviously bouncing with each step, as she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Then when those hungry eyes traveled up and spotted my mark on her neck, I watched their backs straighten and their bodies go stiff before they turned to look toward me.
Fuckers knew
. I should have been pissed, hungry eyes on my wife. I should have been angry, but the looks of respect and fear that I earned for marking her in a bold way, it made my fucking dick hard.

Fear and respect always make my cock hard.

“Stay with the women,
kotik
,” I murmur against her skin. I give a nod to Anton and another
Byki
who will stand watch over the
Bratva’s
most prized jewels
—our women and children
.

Pasha locks the door behind us after we exit, and then we take the few short steps to the apartment that I share with Emiliya. There are well over a dozen men gathered, and I know that this must be a bad omen. I recognize many of them:

There are –

Pakhan’s – bosses

Sovietnik’s – councilors —second in command to Pakhans

Brigadier’s – Authority who are in charge of a small group

Krysha’s – Extremely violent enforcers

Torpedo’s
–
hired killers

This many men of different districts and status’ together in one room cannot bode well for what is about to come our way. This looks like a meeting to prepare for
war
.

Can I be ready for war
? I can yes, but that risks putting my Emiliya in danger again, and I am not sure I wish to even contemplate that. I look over to Maxim and I can see he is thinking much of the same thoughts.

“We are all together because the American FBI has been watching us for a while. It was of no concern to me, because we are secretive and we tie up loose ends without issue. Ivan Chekov and our own Dimitri fucked us over,” Kirill explains. You can hear grumblings from the men around us.

“We will not be able to meet up like this again in the future. From now on, we will go back to codes and burner phones. It is too dangerous otherwise. Our shipments of guns and drugs will be minimal to survive, from now until further notice. There will also be no trips from Moscow to the US. Borders for us are locked down after everybody has returned home from this meeting,” he finishes, looking around as he waits for a response.

“Will the Cartel be an issue if we are on minimums? They will soon discover and peddle their shit in our territories,” one of the
Sovietnik’s
says.

I can’t help but wonder the same thing. Though, the drugs aren’t my specialty. I run real estate investments, and my men collect protection money from our district, along with loans and interest—but drugs are a huge profit for the
Bratva,
as is the gun trade we’re involved in.

“We still have plenty of muscle and men on the streets. Let us not allow the Cartel’s to be an issue, yes?” Sergei booms.

I look over to my mentor, the man who saved me, and I grin. Hard assed fucker, is what he is. I have missed my old friend since leaving Moscow to live here in sunny California. He is usually the man I look to for advice. He would have been helpful during the past weeks with Emiliya, but the time difference has made communication difficult between us.

“That is not realistic,” a brigadier calls out.

Maxim and I stay silent. Sergei is not somebody to question; and by the clench in his jaw, I know that he is pissed.

“Are you saying that the
Bratva
is not strong enough to hold back those pussy Cartel fucks for a few months, even a year? If your district does not have strong enough men, then we have bigger issues at stake here,” he roars. The room becomes silent.

Sergei is right.

We are
Bratva
.

We are scared of no man, of no authority, and of no other group.

“Stay vigilant. If you are in fear your district is being compromised, then send me a message from your burner phone. Send to Sergei if you are in Russia or Europe. Keep your mouths quiet and your noses seemingly clean. Yakov Chekov is still working on cleaning up Ivan’s cluster fuck of a business. He is in the process of selling it all off, piece-by-piece. He will be back to us full-time within the year. Tonight, we drink. Tomorrow, we stay out of prison,” Kirill announces. The men all breathe a sigh of relief that the meeting is over.

Vodkas are brought out by the
Byki,
and we proceed to drink as a family. We
are
a family, these men here in this room together, along with the thousands that total our numbers around the world. It is important that we stand united. Brother and warriors together. Without our bond, our group will disassemble. We are only as strong as our weakest link, and hopefully that was Dimitri, who I fucking killed like the goddamn animal he was.

“Your Emiliya?” Sergei asks me a few hours later. He takes another shot of vodka that he does not need.

“Perfection,” I admit shamelessly with a shrug.

“Good. I knew she would be good for you, my boy,” he murmurs, clapping me on the shoulder.

“You did?” I ask in confusion.

“I have known of her her entire life. Ivan has always been a problem, and I kept him close, trying to figure out his secrets. Obviously, he was good at hiding his insanity. Emiliya was so beautiful, even as a girl. So timid and shy, yet with a fire burning in her eyes. After her mother died, she tried to hide that fire, but I always saw glimpses of it. I see the same in you.

“I know where you come from, lest you forget. I know the road you have traveled has been rough. I also knew that only a special girl could be for you. That cunt you had for a while was not good enough to lick your shoes.” He takes a deep breath and a shot before he continues.

“I hated the bitch. When the opportunity came for Emiliya’s safety, no other man would do. I told Yakov you were the man capable of keeping her safe; but in all honesty, I wanted her for you. I could give a fuck if she is happy. I wanted
you
to be happy. I wanted
you
to have everything you deserved,” he mutters right before his eyes slide closed. He passes out from too much vodka.

Sergei, the slick bastard. The fucking slick piece of shit. He doesn’t care for Emiliya, but he cares for me. I should be angry that he doesn’t give a flying fuck if she’s happy, but I’m not. Without his meddling, without his knowledge of the woman in the next room, and without his ability to see her fire—a fire that burns so fucking bright when she is alone in my arms—I wouldn’t have the only thing I have ever craved.

My Emiliya.

I clap the older man on his shoulder and stumble to the door. I need her now more than ever. Drinking too much can bring out my demons, and I am afraid tonight will be rough.

Without Emiliya, it will be unbearable.

I must go to her, fuck her until I am exhausted, and then pray for a dreamless sleep.

I
SIT STRAIGHT UP
when I hear stumbling, and my eyes widen at the dark hulking figure coming my way. I blink once and then let out a breath. It is Radimir, and he is swaying, completely drunk. I giggle as I reach out to him to steady his body. His hand wraps around mine before he sits down on the sofa, where I am currently sleeping.

“Come to bed,” he slurs, tugging on my arm. I shush him.

“The babies are sleeping,” I whisper. He grunts as he drags me out of the apartment and to ours, next door. I gasp when I walk inside and see all of the men camped out. There has to be at least seven bodies asleep in chairs, and a few just on the floor.

“Radimir,” I hiss.

“There were more. They were able to crawl back to their apartments. Come to bed,
kotik
, I need you,” he murmurs.

I look up at him. He doesn’t just want me; I can see it in his eyes—he truly
needs
me. I do not hesitate before following him into the bedroom. I lock the door behind me as, for whatever reason, people tend to burst in on us. I then watch as he quickly sheds his suit. It has only been hours since he has been inside of me; and although my pussy aches from his hard fucking earlier, I want him.

I want all of him – right now.

“I want to ride you, Radimir,” I mutter as I slowly slide the dress from my body. I am already barefoot, as I left my shoes in the apartment next door, and now I am completely naked.

“I need control,
kotik
. You must give this to me,” he pleads.

Whatever I thought I wanted goes right out of the window. My man needs something, and I will give this to him.

“What is it you need, my husband?” I ask, crawling up the length of his body, which is lying on the bed.

“I want you on your knees. I want your chest on the bed. I want to hold your throat and squeeze. I want to leave marks on that throat with my hands. And I want to fuck you so hard in that pretty, pink pussy that you’re crying tears of pain because of me,” he says just above a whisper. It sounds brutal, but my pussy is wet at the thought.

“Yes, Radimir, make me cry,” I whimper. His hand reaches out as his fingers pinch and twist my nipples so hard, it brings a tear to my eye.

“Fuck, so
goddamn perfect
, aren’t you, my sweet little Emiliya? So eager to seduce me with your whimpers, with your tears, and with your body. I will never grow tired of what you offer me,
moy chernovolosyy koroleva
. You are truly my queen, and I am your king. Now present yourself to me,
queen
. Show me what you are going to give me,” he demands. My whole body shivers with anticipation.

I do as he’s asks of me. I turn onto my stomach, spreading my knees wide, with my chest against the bed and my cheek touching the cool sheet beneath me. His movements are jerky as he glides his hands up the backs of my thighs and over my ass.

He’s drunk, and yet I trust him with my body. I probably shouldn’t, but he needs me, he needs this. His fingers grip my cheeks before he spreads me wide, and then his face is buried in my pussy. His tongue slides through my damp core before he sucks my clit into his mouth. I moan softly, afraid to be too loud, as our small apartment is filled with strange men.

“I want to hear you,
kotik
,” he murmurs against my pussy, his breath puffing out against my heated core.

“The men,” I whimper when his tongue flicks my hardened nub.

“Are fucking passed out. Even if they weren’t, I could give a fuck less right now. Your screams and your tears are all that matter to me,” he grunts before he nips me. I whimper again with a mixed of pleasure pain.

“Radimir, please,” I beg.

“Your begging only fuels my fire tonight, Emiliya. Do it some more, I’ll only drag this out further for you,” he chuckles. I want to curse him under my breath.

Instead, I curse him in my mind, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from screaming at him to
fuck me already
.

Radimir’s mouth leaves me and I want to whimper again, but I don’t. He is asking too much of me right now. I feel like I am going to explode, and I know that he is going to keep going until I cannot hold myself together for a moment longer.

“I want to play with this gorgeous asshole of yours tonight, my
kotik
. Will you let me?” he asks as his cock slides through my dripping pussy.

I feel his thumb at my back entrance and he massages me there. I moan at the sensation of his cock sliding through my pussy lips, and dragging over my clit. His thumb massages and presses at the back of me, and his lips kiss the top of my ass and my lower back. The sweet sensations are not what I expected.

“Yes, Radimir, whatever you want,” I mumble.

His body is quickly gone. His hand slides into my hair and he wrenches my head back, sending shooting pains down my scalp.