Dancing for the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 3) (41 page)

We leave Ashley and Yakov’s issues at the door and walk back to the reception. When we return, Ashley and Yakov are nowhere in sight, and soon, I’m off socializing with the other guests. I don’t forget about the sad look in Ashley’s eyes the entire evening. I want to help her, but I don’t know how. I can’t give advice when I don’t know all of the details, and I have a feeling she’ll never give them.

“Shall we go to bed, my beautiful wife?” Kirill asks as his nose skims the shell of my ear.

“Take me, husband,” I murmur. I feel my body being lifted into the air.

The few people that are still drinking and partying cheer for us as he walks me out of the reception and upstairs to the Penthouse suite.

Then, he takes me as his wife—
Mrs. Kirill Barysheva
.

“I love you, Tati,” he murmurs as he slides inside of me, his body looming over mine.

“I love you, Kirill,” I say as I wrap my hands around his bearded cheeks.

We make love.

We don’t fuck hard. We make long, passionate love to each other all night long.

It is the sweetest way to start our marriage, and I’ve never been happier that this man found me. We’ve had some bumps in our road, but I wouldn’t change a single one because this,
this
is where we were always supposed to be—
together
.

Wrapped in Kirill’s arms, I fall asleep with a smile on my face. Today, we’re happy and safe. Tomorrow, I have no idea what the world will throw at us, but as long as we’re together, we can face anything.

T
HE CURTAIN OPENS AND
all I want to do is scream and yell as the beautiful little ballerina sashays onto the stage. But I don’t. I compose myself. I watch as my Kiska dances with such grace and beauty, it makes my heart ache.

It’s breathtaking.

“I didn’t know,” I whisper, leaning over to Haleigh.

“That she was so talented?” Haleigh asks, arching a brow and grinning.

“I supposed; though, I know she’s extremely intelligent,” I murmur.

“She’s gifted in more than one way. She is a perfect mix of both you and Kirill,” she whispers.

I smile as I watch her turn and leap on the stage. Kirill’s hand finds its way to my thigh and he squeezes it gently as we watch our girl dance. When her dance is finished, we all clap and give her a standing ovation. It is certainly earned as she simply blew me away.

“Did you like it,” Kiska asks after the rest of the performers finish and we meet her backstage.

“I loved it,” I gush as I wrap my arms around her.

“It was spectacular,” Haleigh says as she takes Kiska from my arms in her own hug.

“You are so talented, Kiska, I cannot wait for your next performance,” Emiliya grins.

I watch her place her hand on her round belly and it makes me smile. For someone who was so worried about the fact that she was going to have another baby, she is taking to it beautifully now. She and Radimir just announced that they are going to have another boy. They are both glowing, and it is such a wonderful thing to witness.

“I absolutely loved it, Kiska. Now I want to be a ballerina,” Ashley smiles as she takes Kiska’s hand in her own.

“You would be so pretty in a costume,” Kiska gushes. We all laugh and Ashley blushes at her words.

Kirill tells Kiska to gather her things and change as we have reservations at his restaurant for a fancy celebratory dinner, just the adults and Kiska. She’s so excited to join in an evening at a nice restaurant and to be viewed as a little lady, instead of a kid.

“How is she doing?” I ask once we’re loaded in the car and on the way to the restaurant.

“Who?” Kirill murmurs.

“Ashley,” I sigh in annoyance. He knows exactly who I’m talking about.

“She will be okay. It has only been a few months, Tati. Her heart is broken, but she’s getting out there every day, doing her job and breathing. I think soon she’ll start living, but she’s got to heal a bit more before that happens,” he says quietly.

“She told me everything that’s happened to her. She deserves happiness,” I say as we pull into the valet parking. Kirill takes my hand with his and he looks me in the eyes.

“Everybody deserves happiness,
moyo zolotse
. Every person deserves their version of what makes them happy. Ashley will find it, once she’s happy with herself, once she’s come to terms with every turn her life has taken over the past few years—then and only then can she seek more.”

I look up at him in awe, shocked that he’s decided to become so philosophical, and I nod. We don’t say another word as we get out of the car. Kiska walks in front of us, but Kirill stops me right before we enter. He wraps his hand around my back and pulls me into his arms.

“You are
my more,
Tatyana. You always have been and you always will be my happiness. I love you,
krushka
,” he murmurs before his nose runs alongside mine and he presses his lips to mine in a quick kiss.

We spend the evening surrounded by our friends and then we go home, as a family. Kiska, Kirill, and I.

Once Kiska is tucked into bed, she gives me a hug and whispers in my ear how tonight was the best night of her life. I congratulate her again on her exquisite performance before I flick her light off and close her door behind me.

I lie in bed naked with a sheet around my waist, waiting for my Tati to come to me, as she always does. I watch as she closes the bedroom door behind her and locks it. When she looks at me, her eyes immediately heat with want.

Fuck
, she’s so gorgeous. Her hair is growing out now, and it’s a bit awkward. She absolutely detests it, but I think it’s beautiful, as is everything about her. Soon, we’ll never be able to tell that she was ever holding onto life and that the world almost lost her.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks as she slowly strips her clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor where she stands.

“You,” I grunt as my cock hardens beneath the sheets.

“What about me?”

“I want you to dance for me, my beautiful wife,” I say, avoiding her questions. I don’t like to talk about her accident. I don’t like the haunted look that washes over her when I do.

“Dance for you?” she asks, quirking a brow at me.

“Yes,
krushka
, dance. You haven’t given me a show in quite some time,” I scold with a smirk.

“You’ve been busy with work. I was afraid you wouldn’t even make it tonight,” she shrugs. It makes her tits sway, drawing my attention to them and causing my mouth to water.

“Fuck dancing, get over here and you can just dance on my cock,” I growl.

I watch as she giggles and then does as I have asked, climbing up my thighs and straddling my hips. Her hot pussy presses against my hard cock, the sheet separating us.

“You’re going to ruin the sheets with your wet pussy, Tati,” I murmur as I slide my hand down to cup her warm center.

“Let’s make them filthy then, Kirill,” she moans as I grind my palm against her clit.

I watch her little performance. Her hips swiveling as she searches for pleasure.

“Can you handle filthy?” I ask.

“Not only can I handle it—I want it,” she grinds out through her clenched jaw.

I chuckle before I shove two fingers inside of her tight,
wet
cunt.

“Then,
moyo zolotse
, let’s get to it.”

WINTER 2016

Yakov has abandoned Ashley in Los Angeles, with no true reason as to why.

It is time that she decides to not only survive but to
Live
.

Will she do this with or without her beloved Yakov?

Find out what happens in the next installment of the
Russian Bratva
series.

T
HE SILENCE IN THE
car is deafening.

I look down at my fingers twisted in my lap.

I can feel Yakov’s anger toward me. I can almost taste it. It’s palpable.

I know better than to say anything when he’s like this, so I stay quiet as he drives back to the apartment where we’ve been staying. Once we arrive in the parking garage, he doesn’t turn to me. He doesn’t even
look
at me. Instead, he orders me to get out and go inside. I do as I’m told, as it’s how I’ve been taught—how I’ve been molded.

Once I’m inside of the apartment, I quickly strip out of my clothes, leaving myself completely nude, and walk into the bedroom where I kneel down on the floor. I wrap my arms around my back and hold onto my elbows, arching my chest forward, then I dip my head down.

I wait.

I don’t move.

What seems like hours later, I hear rustling and then the bedroom door clicks closed. I don’t chance looking up, not even to move my eyes.

Yakov is not in the mood for what he deems bratty behavior. I’ve accidently done something to challenge him when he was in a mood like this once before, and my punishment was not something I ever wish to repeat.

“I can’t make you happy,” he whispers into the silent room. My breath hitches at his words, at their meaning, but I don’t move. “Eyes up.”

I do as he orders and lift my head, letting my eyes meet his. I don’t shield myself from him, I let him see how his words have hurt me, I bare it all without saying a word. I watch as his face threatens to crumple, but then he stands.