Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3) (40 page)

I close the door behind me and sink down to the bottom drawer of the built in dresser. The panties I choose aren’t ones I bought at the expensive shop.
No
, I ordered them online. They are by far the most provocative thing I have ever worn. Sheer pink panties, almost the exact color of my skin, and crotchless. I slide into a pair of my stage heels and open the closet door.

Kirill is lying with the sheet pulled up to his waist, and he’s completely naked. One flick of my eyes to the pile of clothes at the side of the bed confirms it. I look back at him and he grins as his eyes travel up my body and then to my face.

“I want to tell you to dance, but I’m torn. I want to just fuck you, too,” he says.

“I’m dancing, put some music on,” I laugh.

I wait for him to fiddle with his phone and then music fills the room. There aren’t any words, just a slow, sexy beat, and I start to dance. I don’t want him to see just how sexy my panties are yet, so I dance as coyly as possible. It isn’t until I crawl up his body that I give him a sneak peak of my panties. I hear his intake of breath when he notices.

“
Tati
,” he groans when he reaches down and slides one of his fingers through my exposed center.

“I need you, Kirill,” I murmur before one of his fingers pumps inside of me.

“I want you, but I don’t want to hurt you. I want you to ride me. First, I need you to ride my face until you come,” he demands as he takes his finger from my pussy and wraps both of his hands around my waist.

I gasp as he slides himself beneath me until his head is resting on the pillow instead of the headboard. When he turns his head and his lips touch the inside of my thigh in a gentle kiss, I moan; then he bites down on my sensitive flesh and I can’t hold back my whimper.

“Get that pussy over here,
krushka
,” he orders. I comply.

I place my knees on each side of his head and I slowly sink down to his face. When I am only centimeters away, he grabs ahold of my waist and forces me down against his mouth while his tongue snakes out and licks my entire core. I instantly grab onto the headboard with my un-casted hand for support as I cry out.

“Ride, Tati,” he demands.

Without another thought, without being
able
to think, I grind my pussy against his face. The roughness of his beard against my thighs makes my skin break out in goosebumps. I move my hand from the headboard, sinking it into his thick hair as his tongue flattens against my clit before he sucks it into his mouth.

Throwing back my head, I moan as I grip his hair even tighter. I slowly move my hips in a circular motion as his tongue begins to flick my clit over and over. I can feel my orgasm building. My thighs begin to shake against him and then I ignite, weeks of sexual frustration bubbling into one giant eruption against Kirill’s tongue.

My fingers grip his hair as I try to catch my breath, but before I do, Kirill is moving me down his body and I feel his dick lined up to my center. I sigh as he pulls me down on his hard cock. Slowly, I open my eyes after I am fully seated on him. I reach up to his face, with my thumb, and I wipe the evidence of my orgasm away from his lips.

“
Moyo zolotse
,” he grunts.

“I missed this,” I murmur.

“Me too. I thought I would never have it again,” he whispers as his eyes, full of a raging storm, focus on mine.

I don’t reply with words; instead, I use my body. I ride him, achingly slow. I feel every single inch of him fill me every time I rise and fall down on his cock. His fingers grip my thighs tightly, bruising my skin, causing the slightest bit of pain—it’s perfect.

“Stay still, Tati. Take me,” he grunts. I can see the light sheen of sweat covering his chest.

I do as he asks, staying on my knees and keeping my body still. Kirill surges inside of me from beneath my body and I let my head fall back with a moan. His hands move up to my waist, and with all of his strength, he fucks me. I want to move. I want to chase my release, but he won’t let me. He’s in control.

“Play with that pretty clit, Tatyana. I want to watch you come this time,” he grinds out. Immediately, one of my hands flies to my pussy.

“Eye’s on me,” he demands.

I lift my head and open my eyes, focusing on Kirill as he takes me higher and higher until I detonate around him. My pussy clenches as my body completely freezes.

“Keep playing with your clit,” he grinds out. My hand moves automatically at his command.

I continue to rub quick circles against my clit, and it draws out my orgasm while he fills me from below, hard and fast until he too freezes and his cock twitches inside of me. Kirill’s loud groan fills the room as his cum fills my pussy. I gasp when he wraps his arms around my back and pulls me down against his chest.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asks. His hands trail down my back to my ass and back up.

“No, it was amazing,” I say as I blush and bury my face in his neck.

“Tomorrow, you’re finally to be my wife,” he says as he plays with my hair. One hand grips my ass, the other playing with the hair that’s resting against my back.

“And you’ll be my husband,” I agree.

“This is how it was always meant to be,” he murmurs as his lips brush against the shaved part of my head.

“I’m quitting the club,” I blurt out.

“Did you have a choice?” he chuckles as he squeezes my ass with his fingers.

“Promise me our relationship won’t change,” I whisper, lifting my head to look into his eyes.

“I will never promise you that,” he states, clenching his jaw.

I don’t say a word, my eyes falling to his neck as I try to keep from crying.

“Look at me,” he demands. I do. I lift my face and I let my eyes connect with his. “Our relationship will change every day, Tatyana
. It will get better
. I will fall in love with you more, and you with me. We will learn even more things about each other; and then when I watch you bring our next child into the world, it will change yet again. We will forever change, forever grow, and forever fall deeper in love.”

I look at him, staring at him in silence for a beat. Then, without a word in response, I press my lips to his and I take him in a deep, thorough kiss. I moan into his mouth when I feel him shift his hips and start to lift them, lazily fucking me.

“Kirill,” I groan.

“Sshh, Tati. Let me fuck my pretty little fiancée,” he whispers against my lips.

I do as he asks.

Quietly
, I let him fuck me again—one of his hands is buried in my hair, while the other stays gripped on my ass, moving me as he wishes. The movements between us are slight, but since we’ve both just come, we’re sensitive and it’s warm and sensitive with each gentle thrust from his hips.

Staring into Kirill’s stormy eyes, I come without a sound. He soon follows me and orgasms with a low, deep, groan—his hands tightening on me and his eyes full of what can only be described as awe.

After we cleanup, he holds me. He wraps his arms around me and holds me until I fall asleep in his arms. Tonight, I’m just his fiancée, his woman; but tomorrow, I’ll be his wife, his life partner. I can’t wait.

“Y
OU MAY KISS YOUR
bride,” the officiant says. Before I can take a breath, Kirill wraps his arms around my waist and pulls me into his body, his mouth on mine as he takes me in a hard, closed mouth kiss.

The room erupts in cheers as we turn around to face all of our family and friends. I take Kiska’s hand in mine, and together, the three of us walk down the aisle and toward the reception area.

The evening is magical; the day was magical as well. My father, Sergei, walked me down the aisle to join Kirill and Kiska who, along with the officiant, were the only people waiting for me at the end. The affair was elegant and small, filled with only men and women of the
Bratva,
our friends and family.

Now I’m sitting down at a table meeting Kirill’s parents for the first time.

“You can’t imagine how incredibly happy it makes us to finally see this union happen,” Kirill’s father says as he takes my free hand in his.

Kirill’s father looks like a rough, hardened man; but when he speaks to me, he’s gentle. He smiles widely and winks.

“Thank you,” I murmur.

“Now we have an excuse to come back to LA more often, to spend more time with our granddaughter,” his mother interjects.

“Yes, ma, you may come anytime you wish and spend as much time with Kiska as your heart desires,” Kirill says.

“Not that you have a say at all, but thank you,” she states.

“She’s pissed at me. I don’t call enough, and she heard about both you and Kiska from Sergei and not me,” Kirill whispers in my ear.

We talk with his parents for a while longer before promising to meet for brunch the next day. Kirill has ordered a large brunch to be catered tomorrow morning for all of the guests at our home.

I know that I’ll be exhausted, but I also know that many of the guests will be leaving early Monday morning, so I want to be able to spend as much time with them as possible.

Kirill takes me out on the dance floor and we dance, holding each other closely. I take the opportunity to scan the people around us and I see Ashley sitting at a table alone. Yakov is nowhere in sight. She’s looking down at her lap, sitting perfectly still, and it worries me. When the song ends, I tell Kirill that I’m going to check on her. When he sees her, he agrees that I should.

“Are you all right?” I ask as I approach her.

Ashley looks up with watery eyes and I know that she isn’t okay. Her bottom lip is trembling and she’s trying very hard to keep her shit together. I take her hand and pull her from the table, leading her out of the ballroom and into the bathroom.

“Tell me,” I demand.

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispers.

“It does,” I say, looking directly into her watery eyes.

Ashley is breakable. She’s petite with soft features and pretty, long, blonde hair. She’s young, but it’s more than just her youth. You can tell she’s been through a lot in her life, and she’s vulnerable.

“I mentioned something to Yakov and he became angry with me. It’s not a big deal, I promise. This is your day; you’ve waited ten years for today.
Please
, I don’t want to ruin it with my stupid drama,” she says softly.

“Talk to me, please,” I plead.

Ashley shakes her head once before she sighs.

“Everybody is having babies and getting married and Yakov doesn’t want that,” she whispers.

“He doesn’t want to marry you?” I ask in confusion.
He loves her
. I’ve watched him dote on her, how could he not want to make her his wife?

“He doesn’t see a reason to.” She sighs and looks away. There is so much more, but she isn’t going to tell me.

“And children?”

“
Never even a possibility
,” she whispers as a tear streams down her cheek.

“Is it physically not possible, or does he just not want them?” I ask, trying to get clarification.

“He doesn’t want them
with me
, ever,” she sniffs. Without a word, I wrap my arms around her and hold her.

I know that what she’s said, those simple words are just the tip of the iceberg. There is so much more to Yakov and Ashley. I open my mouth to ask her if she would like to tell me more, to get things off of her chest and just talk, but there is a knock on the door and Emiliya’s head pops in.

“Yakov is worried sick looking for you, Ashley,” she almost scolds. Ashley’s back straightens immediately.

“Oh, no. I better go,” she mutters before she turns and scurries past Emiliya.

“Was she crying?” Emiliya asks, walking into the restroom.

“She was,” I admit.

“I think my brother is going to mess up, if he hasn’t already,” Emiliya says, chewing on the side of her lip.

“I think you are correct,” I confirm with a nod.

“That is the only woman he has ever loved. I think he doesn’t know how to handle it,” she says, looking at the closed bathroom door.

“I don’t think any of us know how to handle the love we give and receive,” I say. Emiliya turns to me.

“Isn’t that the truth?” she grunts.