Page 46 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

On the one hand, I revel at the thought. On the other, I know I can’t fall deeper into this rabbit hole she is digging for me, not until I can gain some semblance of control around her.

“I was thinking,” she says, out of nowhere. “I never asked whether you were seeing someone before you were forced to marry me.”

I almost spit out my wine. “What?” I exclaim in disbelief.

“You know?” she bites her lower lip and flicks her hair back across her shoulder. “Was she good… in bed?”

I cannot believe Genevieve Russo Zolotov, my wife of barely a month, is trying to ask me if I have an ex and how she was in bed. I frown, and realize what she’s doing. She’s trying to keep my mind on sex, but I won’t give.

“I wasn’t seeing anyone,” I fire back, regaining control. It’s not a lie. I never had time for women of consequence.

She walks closer to me and bends across the table to grab the wine, her ass jutting out right in front of my eyes. I hold back a moan as I feel the temptation to reach out and touch her. My breath catches, and I clench my jaw, the internal battle raging on within me. Genevieve straightens back up slowly, a knowing smirk playing on her lips as she watches the effect she has on me.

She holds up the wine. “I noticed your glass was empty,” she whispers in this slow, sultry voice I could never get sick of.

“No, thanks,” I say, rather ferociously, pulling my glass away from under her hand. “I… I think I’ve had too much already.”

The truth is I’m afraid getting drunk would make me lose all my inhibitions… and my clothes. I cannot allow that to happen. She thinks she can seduce me with these little tricks? Well, I could resist a Goddess if I put my mind to it.

Not that she isn’t a Goddess.

“Oh, come on, Damien,” she pouts playfully, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Just one more glass won’t hurt. I promise I won’t tell your secrets to the moonlight.”

Genevieve’s eyes sparkle as she leans in closer, her breath warm against my neck.

I can feel the heat of her body seeping into my own, igniting a fire that threatens to consume every last shred of restraint I have left. She’s playing with fire, and she knows it. But damn, if I’m not already burning for her.

I try to hold onto my resolve, but it crumbles like sand between my fingers as she runs a soft finger along my jawline, tilting my face toward hers. Her lips are inches away from mine, taunting me with the promise of something wild and untamed.

“Just one more glass,” she murmurs, her voice a siren’s call that I find myself unable to resist. She brings her lips closer to my ear and brushes them against it, giving them a nip.

Slowly, she inches herself onto my lap. I feel her thighs against me and let out a moan I should’ve held back.

“So you want me,” she whispers, sensing the conflict within me. Her fingertips trace delicate patterns on my chest, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

“Genevieve, we shouldn’t…” My voice falters as I struggle to find the words.

“Stop thinking about everything else for once,” she urges, her hands cupping my face, forcing me to look at her. “This is about you and me.”

Her gaze is fierce, challenging me to confront my deepest fears. I swallow hard, attempting to regain control of my emotions. “It’s not that simple,” I manage to say, my voice strained with effort.

“Make it simple,” she insists, her lips brushing against mine, a tantalizing promise of what could be. “Let go of everything else and just focus on us. You told me I should go after what I want… so help me.”

The scent of her perfume fills my senses, intoxicating me and overwhelming my resistance. My mind races, torn between the desire that courses through my veins and the cold logic that has always governed my every action. As her body moves closer to mine, our breaths mingling, the battle within me intensifies.

Here she was, having set out to seduce me, but the innocence of her dialogue tugs at my heartstrings. It’s so simple in her head, and she wants that same simplicity from me. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she’s trying. Perhaps it’s time for me to surrender what I don’t know either and let her take the leap.

“Genevieve.” My hands grip her shoulders in a futile attempt to keep some distance between us when all I want is to close it. “Are you sure?” I ask, my voice barely audible above the sound of my thundering heartbeat. “Because once we cross this line, there’s no going back.”

“Lines are meant to be crossed,” her voice pushes me over the edge. “Otherwise, we’d never know what we’re yet to find.”

With those words, she reaches down and rests her palm on my cock, giving me the gentlest squeeze. I buck my hips, my cock demanding more, and in that instant, I make the decision to let go of my fears and slam my lips against hers.

It’s impossible to resist her.

In one swift motion, I pull Genevieve closer, our bodies crashing together. Her breasts squeeze against my chest, and our lips meet with a fervor that leaves us both breathless. All rational thought is wiped from my mind.

“Damien,” she sighs, her fingers digging into my shoulders as if she’s afraid I might pull away again.

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