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Protected by the Badman (Russian Bratva Book 6) by Hayley Faiman (17)

 

I LOOK DOWN THE table and catch Quinn’s eye. When she smiles at me, I know that she’s doing all right. She looks genuinely happy. Still a little apprehensive, but she doesn’t look terrified or traumatized, so that’s good.

“I found out where they’ve been hiding out,” Yakov announces.

“Who?” I ask.

“The Cartel,” Dominik mutters.

“I thought, since that restaurant thing a few weeks ago, they’d been quiet?” I ask.

I recall how Yakov explained just how they took care of the fuckers. Those pieces of shit, who were trying to get a hit out on Inessa, blackmailing him into trading Russian women as sex slaves.

“I don’t want them quiet, I want them gone,” Pasha announces. “O’Neil wants them gone, too,” he adds speaking of Patrick O’Neil, the head of the Irish Mob in the area.

“We always try to avoid war,” Maxim murmurs.

“It’s unavoidable. These fucks have been toying with us for years. We have the Motorcycle club and now the Irish on board. We need to end them,” Kirill announces.

“When will everybody be here?” Radimir asks, taking a sip of vodka.

“As much as I hate to possibly ruin Oksana’s wedding, the week of the occasion will be perfect. Nobody will anticipate it, and nobody will think any different of having a mass number of Russians coming into the country and gathering all in one city. Plus, Sergei will be here from Russia, bringing his men as well,” Pasha explains.

“And we strike?” Kirill asks.

“On the night of the wedding. The men strike while we party,” Pasha grins.

“So they’re close by then?” I ask, looking around at the men at the table.

“They’re hiding in plain sight. I thought the men at the restaurant were the bulk in the city. They weren’t. They’ve been meeting here, watching us, and waiting for the time to strike. They thought they had the opportunity when Oleg and Larisa hired one of their men to do a hit on Inessa. They’ve been scrambling since that didn’t work out, but I’m done waiting for them. It’s over,” Pasha explains.

“What’s the wedding date?” Maxim asks.

“The first weekend in April,” Gavril, who has been silent, says.

“That only gives us about six weeks,” I mutter.

“We know where the important men are. We start by killing them one-by-one on the wedding night. It will be mass chaos. They’ll retreat like the roaches they are, and hopefully, they won’t come back. If they do, then we deal with it down the road,” Pasha explains as though this will be an extremely easy task.

“This feels too easy, how are all of the important players suddenly found?” Radimir asks.

“I agree, it doesn’t quite add up,” Kirill murmurs.

“We send the Torpedos into their homes, knock them off, then it’s over and done with. The next morning, their men wake up with no leaders, and they run, it’s simple,” Pasha says.

“I don’t know,” Radimir rumbles.

“Those are my orders; do you plan on defying them?” Pasha practically yells.

We all stop and look at him. He looks wild, unsettled, and a little crazed. However, Gavril, his future son-in-law, looks cool and almost smug. Something is definitely not right here.

Pasha is still hurting from his wife’s murder several months ago. He’s ready to take control of not only his life, but this city as well. To an extent, I don’t blame him; but war is not something that should be ruled by emotion. War must be strategic, and every man questioning his decision knows this.

Nyet,” each man eventually says. I watch as Pasha visibly relaxes.

“Okay. Tonight, we celebrate then,” Pasha cheers as he stands.

I stand as well, making my way over to Quinn, who is chatting with Maxim’s wife, Haleigh. Once I’m behind her, I wrap my hand around her shoulder and squeeze gently.

“Are you ready?” she asks, tipping her head back to look up at me.

“Yeah, katyonak, I’m ready,” I murmur.

“Sweet—he calls you kitten,” Haleigh mutters with a smirk on her lips.

“It wasn’t always sweet, but it is now,” Quinn grins as she stands from her seat.

I pull Haleigh’s chair out for her as well and watch her stand. She gives Quinn a hug and promises to see her and talk more at the party this evening. I send a text to the hotel’s driver to come and pick us up, knowing it will take a good twenty minutes to get this group of people to finally separate.

“You doing okay?” I murmur against Quinn’s ear.

“I am,” she says with a smile.

She relaxes into my side, and I can’t help but squeeze her a bit tighter to me when she does. I run my fingers through her hair before I wrap my arm around her back, and my hand around her tiny waist.

“I hope that you guys will stay longer than just tonight. I would like to have dinner, just the four of us,” Ashley says as she and Yakov walk up to us.

“We’ll be here until Wednesday,” I inform.

“Oh, good,” Ashley grins as she buckles Yurik in his car-seat carrier.

“Sunday night, dinner, no excuses,” she announces as Yakov chuckles and picks up the carrier.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say with a grin.

Ashley looks over at Quinn and rolls her eyes before she grins and takes Yakov’s outstretched hand. I watch them walk away, and then together, we follow with the rest of the crowd.

I can tell the men are all thinking, concerned with what this war means when it comes to our women and children. Concerned with retaliation, especially.

I get our coats from the hostess and slip Quinn’s on quietly before we walk out into the cold.

“Something happened,” Quinn whispers as she stops and looks up at me.

Nyet,” I grunt, telling a complete, boldfaced lie.

“I’m your wife now, Ziven. You can tell me what’s bothering you,” she says, cupping my cheek with her cold hand.

“It is fine, katyonak,” I lie again.

“You’ll tell me, eventually, right?” she asks, calling me out on my lie without saying the words.

“Yeah,” I mutter, turning my head to press my lips to her palm.

The car arrives, and I open the door, watching her slide inside before I follow her. We ride back to the hotel in silence, my mind lost in what has just transpired.

I hadn’t known Pasha was so adamant about finishing off the Cartel. I wasn’t prepared to hear that, and I’m not prepared for what that means.

Odds are, after the wedding, I’ll take Quinn back to Denver and it will be a non-issue, but what if it isn’t? What if they come for us there? I already have to worry about protecting her against this mess that involves Oswald, her father, and Agent Wilson.

Now there’s this?

What if I can’t protect her?

If something happens to her again, it would kill me. Quinn is my weakness; she has been my weakness since I laid eyes on her. As pathetic as it sounds, she’s my world. That makes me a cunt, but I don’t care because she is just that—mine.

 

 

 

We ride in the car in silence, then the elevator in the hotel. We even walk the hall in silence. I know that Ziven is deep in thought about something, but he won’t talk about it, and I won’t try to make him. Whatever it is, I have faith that he will tell me when he’s ready, just as he said he would.

Once we’re inside of the room, I take his coat from him and hang it up along with mine. Then I walk over to where he’s standing, his hip against the counter of the kitchenette. He’s looking out of the floor-to-ceiling window and just staring, deep in thought.

I sink to my knees in front of him, my hands working fast to unbuckle, unbutton, and unzip his slacks before I pull them down his legs, along with his boxer briefs.

“Quinn?” he rasps looking down at me.

I wrap his semi-hard cock with my fingers and give him a gentle stroke as I look up at him through my lashes. I don’t speak before I kiss the tip of his dick. My tongue sneaks out and licks the seam of his head before I part my lips and suck just the tip into my mouth.

“Don’t tease,” he murmurs, sliding his fingers through the side of my hair and holding on at the back of my head.

I lick the entire length of the underside of his cock before I open my mouth and look up at him, waiting, the way I know he likes. He moans long and deep as he sinks his cock down my throat. He wraps his other hand around the back of my neck, massaging me as he gently slides in and out of my throat, going deeper with each down stroke.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful taking my cock, Quinn,” he grunts.

I watch as he clenches his jaw, and I do everything in my power to relax mine. His fingers tighten in my scalp and on my neck as he begins to thrust a little harder, a little faster, and a little deeper down my throat. I moan around his length, which makes his eyes roll back in his head.

“I won’t come down that beautiful throat, Quinn. I’m coming in your pussy, katyonak,” he announces as he pulls out of me and takes a step back.

I watch, silently, perfectly frozen to my spot as he undresses so that he’s now completely naked. His dick is hard and standing at attention, glistening with the wetness from my mouth, and his chest is heaving with his heavy breaths.

“Take your clothes off,” he orders.

“In the bedroom?” I ask as I reach for the hem of my sweater and pull it over my head.

“Here.”

I nod and stand, removing my high heeled booties, then my skirt, and finally my tights. Then I unhook and slide my bra down my arms, dropping it to the side before I tug my panties down and step out of them.

“You’re so sexy,” he murmurs as his eyes rake up and down my body.

I still feel too skinny when I look at myself in the mirror, but when Ziven looks at me, I feel gorgeous and sexy all at the same time. I gasp when he reaches out and slides two fingers through my center and then inside of me. Wrapping my hands around his shoulders, I steady myself as he gently pumps in and out of me.

“You’re so wet, katyonak,” he rasps, pressing his lips to mine. “You like sucking your husband’s cock, having him fuck your face?” he asks.

“Yes,” I moan as I roll my hips, searching for more of his touch.

Ziven pulls out of me and spins me around, walking me toward the sofa before placing his palm on the center of my back to push me over the arm. His hand releases me and he bends down behind me, grasping onto my ankles and spreading my legs apart. Then I feel the pads of his fingers drag up my thighs and grab onto my ass, spreading me apart for him.

“I can’t wait to take you here, katyonak,” he rumbles. His thumb presses against my back entrance and massages me.

“Ven,” I moan once I relax and push against his thumb.

“Mmm, yeah, we’re going to have fun when we get home,” he chuckles behind me.

I turn my head to the side as he picks one of my legs up from behind my knee, and cradles it at his elbow as he bends his arm, then he grasps onto the back of sofa with his fingers. Using his other hand, he lines his dick with my opening.

“You’re going to take me, yeah?” he mutters as his cock presses against my opening.

“Always,” I whisper.

“Fuck, yeah,” he grinds out as he slowly sinks into my pussy.

The angle, my legs being so wide, and me being bent over, is all too much. I feel like I can’t catch a breath, like I’m gasping for air and nothing is coming.

“Breathe. Come on, Quinn, breathe for me,” he rasps as he slowly slides out and then glides back to the hilt.

“I can’t,” I almost cry.

“Sshhh, you can, just breathe,” he instructs as he fucks me slowly and with precision.

I close my eyes and inhale through my nose, feeling Ziven surrounding me, smelling him, and hearing only him. My panic starts to fade and warmth fills me instead. I moan when his hips roll on his down stroke.

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs.

I smile at his praise, biting my bottom lip.

“Arm behind your back,” he instructs.

He releases my leg as I lift up, and he wraps one of his hands around my hair, tugging me up a little further. His other hand wraps around my forearm once I put it behind my back.

I’m standing on one leg, my other up and my knee resting on the arm of the sofa. I’m holding onto the back of the sofa with one hand, for stability, and he’s holding me up by my hair and my arm, his cock fully seated inside of me.

“Ziven,” I whimper.

The angle, the burn of my pussy being stretched, plus my thighs, and the way he fills me, it’s dizzying. I feel tears prick my eyes. It almost hurts. I need him to move so damn bad. I need him to make me feel the way I know he can—to make me come for him.

“Okay, Quinn. Touch yourself if you need to, I won’t be able,” he whispers against the side of my neck before he places a gentle kiss there.

Ziven rears back, and I swear, I hear an animal erupt from within his body. He pulls his cock almost completely out and then slams back inside of me, it’s hard, it’s fast, and it is without hesitation.

He fucks me and tugs my hair and holds me perfectly still for his use, for his pleasure. I should hate it, but I can feel my wetness against my thigh and hear the way our bodies meet with each slam of his hips.

With my free hand, I reach down and gently touch myself. The tentative touch isn’t enough. It only takes me a second stroke to realize that I need more, I need hard, and I need fast.

My fingers work my clit, rubbing firm circles against it while his cock moves hard and fast inside of me. I whimper as my body climbs and Ziven groans behind me.

“Fuck, yes, squeeze me,” he grunts between thrusts.

My thighs shake as I cry out with my climax. Tears fall from my eyes as Ziven continues to punishingly thrust in and out of me. Then he stills. That’s when I feel his cock twitching and the warmth of his release fill me.

My pussy pulses, the aftershocks of my orgasm still coursing through my body as he lets go of my hair and then wraps both of his arms around my chest, holding my back against him, his cock still buried inside of me.

“You’re fucking amazing,” Ziven whispers against my ear.

“You’re pretty good, too,” I wheeze, trying to catch my breath.

“I want to stay inside of you for eternity,” he rumbles.

“I’m yours.”

“Yeah, you fucking are,” he grunts with a thrust up of his hips before he pulls out of me.

I start to walk toward the bathroom to clean up, but he keeps me against him.

“I need to go clean up,” I whisper as my cheeks pink with embarrassment, even though I know he can’t see them from behind me.

Nyet,” he grunts as one of his hands slides down my stomach and cups me between the legs. “I want you filled with me, always.”

“Ziven,” I hiss, knowing my face is probably bright red right now.

“It’s true. I like the way you look, the way you feel when my cum is in your pussy,” he rumbles as he fucks me gently with his fingers.

“That’s gross,” I rasp, moving my hips slightly to meet with his fingers.

“Mmm, no. It isn’t gross. It’s us mixed together, and it’s just as gorgeous as you are. Next time I fill your pussy up, I’m taking a picture so I can have it always,” he mutters.

“No way,” I cry, trying to break free from his grasp.

“Oh, yeah. I’m going to fill your pussy and then your ass. Fuck, it’s going to be so stunning,” he grunts, pressing his lips to my neck. “Go now. We have a party to go to.”

“You’re awful,” I say, scrunching my nose as I turn to face him.

“Be a good girl or I’ll fuck you in the hallway of Pasha’s house like I did the last time we were there,” he grins.

I suck in a ragged breath, remembering that time. We had been fighting. I’d threatened to run—again, and he showed me exactly why I wouldn’t leave him; or why, if I did, I would come back to him.

My body never wanted anybody but Ziven, even though my brain tried to convince me otherwise. My body has always known who owns it, totally and completely.