Page 33 of Forced Bratva Wife

I padded to the shower, and the soreness quickly worsening in my muscles and core reminded me all the more of exactly what I had just done.

I’d had sex with Lev.

My heartbeat sped up, beginning to boom behind my ribs as I hurried across the cool tiles. I reached for the shower faucet, still wet from Lev’s shower, and turned it to hot, real damn hot. Steam filled the large expanse, and I was begrudgingly impressed once again at the lavish furnishings and amenities of Lev’s home.

The hot water was still going strong after Lev’s turn in here, and I wanted to scream at the luxury of it all.

Lukewarm showers and laundromats were my norm, and in the course of just a few days, I’d gone from a med student sporting her V-card to the property of a dangerous mafioso who just fucked her within an inch of her life.

“Shit.”

I couldn’t stop shaking my head at myself, and then I made the mistake of looking at myself in the mirror. I really was a mess, just like Lev had said, and worse, I didn’t hate how it looked on me. Red stripes crossed over the skin of my ass, and my wrists were starting to bruise beneath the smear of dried blood from Lev’s man.

There was also the still-present flush beneath my skin. I may have just run a mile for how I glowed with exertion. And, of course, the glistening cum decorating my inner thighs was tinged pink.

Not a virgin.

Eventually, I got inside the warm shower and let it rain over me. The heat felt incredible, and I let it soothe the ache in my muscles. But when it hit over my ass, I hissed. The strike marks on my cheeks were sensitive, the water stinging slightly.

My mind was still a blender of thoughts, too. As I stared at the dark marble walls of the shower, watching the droplets slide down the surface, I had a full-blown conversation with myself in my head.

How could you do that?

You know exactly how. You loved every second of that, Parker.

I remembered how we’d gotten to that place, what led up to the sex. I’d helped that man live, stopped his bleeding. Because…

I was living with a criminal. I’d been kidnapped by a criminal.

Your father is a criminal. He fucking killed your… I gasped around the sob that choked me. Fucking hell, are you just trading one thug for another?

Reaching for the soap on the built-in ledge, I squirted a large handful of the body wash into my palm and lathered it up over my arms and chest. The scent was unmistakably masculine, a combination of musk and wood that was all too familiar. But there was also a coolness to it, and all I could think of as the fragrance hit my nose was Lev.

Because it smelled like him, not completely, but enough to get the swirling in my mind to kick up another notch. Part of me longed for the background scent of Lev, wanting it there in the body wash even though it was impossible.

People had their own unique body chemistries. That’s what made the soap smell different on him than it did on me.

And I missed it. I missed his scent.

“You are damn crazy.” I closed my eyes tighter, putting my face under the spray.

Eventually, my need for cleanliness was too strong to resist, and I lathered up my hands with more soap and scrubbed my legs and waist. When I smoothed it over the insides of my thighs, my fingers brushed the skin between them, and I flinched.

My core was battered, swollen even.

Why do you fucking love that?!

It was just something about what Lev did to me. I was drunk on how damn good it had felt to be dominated like that. I’d never toyed with anything too intense, even in my mind, but it wasn’t because I wasn’t interested. On the contrary, it was because I knew once I’d had it, I’d go wild for it.

“And you totally did.”

I rinsed off again, careful of the sore spots. Why had it been Lev out of all the other potentials, all the other maybes? I didn’t know. And yet, I thought about his brother.

Murder had been a part of Lev’s life since the beginning—betrayal and ruin, too. I could relate. In fact, I did even more now that my father’s scheme had been discovered. He’d lost his mother, and so had I. He’d watched someone close to him fuck him over, hurt him.

So had I.

When I was with Lev, I felt…seen—in a way I never had been. I liked how forthright he was. I enjoyed the way he put his found family, the people who’d earned his trust, first. The way he’d spoken to Igor when I was patching him up had been…kind.

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