Page 40 of Forced Bratva Wife

“Oh.” I closed my eyes. The only way I could think with Lev this close. “Umm, only two. One guy sounded Italian or something, and the other was Scottish or Irish. I’m not sure.”

Lev exhaled hard, the sound a deep grumble. “Well, that’s something.”

Still, he didn’t back up.

I dipped my head toward the floor, my stare naturally falling in line with where Lev’s zipper happened to be. I could see the hard length trapped behind the fabric, and I clenched my thighs together.

God, I hope he didn’t notice that.

When I looked back up at him, the sensible part of me was desperate for some space.

“Umm…” I swallowed hard, that hard pound of my heart impossible to ignore. “I was going to change.”

Lev smirked, damn him, and heat roared through my entire body, especially my cheeks—and pussy.

“I see that.” His hand came to my hip, his fingers tickling the skin where it was accessible through the slit. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Don’t you have things that you need to get back to? It’s the middle of the day?”

What was I doing? I knew what kind of “job” Lev had; he could do whatever he wanted. But my mind was spinning again, and I didn’t know what to do with myself.

Flee, panic, let it happen…enjoy.

They all sounded like good options at present. In any case, Lev towered over me, hovering his lips near the sensitive skin behind my ear.

“I don’t like this, little one. I don’t like not having more information on your piece of shit, father. I want descriptions of those men.”

“That was ages ago. I can’t remember that far—”

Lev’s hand left my leg in a flash, closing around my neck like it had when we’d first been deep in discussion.

“I bet I could jog your memory.”

Chapter 19 - Lev

Parker’s skin hummed beneath my fingers, and the head of my cock brushed against the zipper of my pants. It wanted free. It had wanted to be freed—the entire time we were in the judge’s quarters. My new bride was lucky that I didn’t yank up her fucking skirt and fuck her right there on the desk.

Fuck, I wanted to.

The only thing that had stopped me was the fact that I wanted it done quickly because, unfortunately, I did have work to do—regarding Parker’s fucker of a father, in fact.

Pavel Koslovsky was quickly heading to the top of my shit list, and with each new fact that I learned about the guy from Parker, I hated him all the more.

Pavel needed to be stopped, and quickly. Keeping her captive, hurting her, and murdering an innocent woman for speaking out against him was unforgivable. He deserved a bullet to the head.

“Lev,” Parker pleaded, her throat vibrating beneath my palm, “I don’t know. I was young. I didn’t grow up knowing about this stuff like you did. My father kept it hidden.”

Quirking a brow and tipping my head toward Parker, I let out a sharp exhale.

“Did he now?”

I squeezed, the beads on the gown’s choker-like neck digging into my fingers, and Parker hissed in a breath through her nose. In the pale glow of the bathroom, her alabaster skin shone like she was honed from pearl.

Maddeningly hungry. I was damn ravenous to taste every inch of her creamy skin. Parker was exquisite regardless, but seeing her spilling out of this wonder of a dress was something else. My erection was iron hard, and I could barely think around the intoxicating need to sheathe myself deep into her pussy and take every bit of her for myself.

“Tell me, little one. Did the men he dealt with on those unique occasions look like me? Were they criminals?”

Parker stared at me through a lidded gaze, and I leaned in closer, pressing my erection against her thigh. A tiny whimper escaped her, and I surged as that feeling of towering over her got stronger.