Page 54 of Forced to Marry the Bratva

“Listen to me now,” Damien catches my hands in his, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I will always stand up for you. Not because I think you’re weak, but because you mean something to me.”

“Thank you,” I whisper, holding him tighter. “For everything.” I pull back to look at Damien, warmth flooding my chest. “You’re too good to me.”

He smiles, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face before pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. “Nonsense. You deserve the world, and I intend to give it to you.”

My heart skips a beat at his words. I don’t know how I’ve gotten so lucky to find a man like Damien. A man who loves me for who I am, who stands up for me and protects me, who makes me feel cherished in a way I’ve never known before.

“I deserve to be heard,” I acknowledge, more to myself than him.

Satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “Good girl.” He brushes his knuckles along my cheek, a possessive gleam entering his gaze. “You have so much fire in you, Genevieve. Don’t ever let anyone extinguish that flame.”

A delicious shiver runs down my spine at the intensity in his voice. I begin to feel safe after talking to him and sink onto the couch with a sigh, the day’s events catching up to me. My shoulders are tense from the confrontation with my father, and a headache is beginning to form behind my eyes.

Damien notices my discomfort immediately. “Are you alright?” he asks, his gaze searching. “You look exhausted.”

“Just a headache,” I admit. “Today was... a lot.”

Without another word, Damien moves behind the couch. His hands come to rest on my shoulders, kneading the tight muscles with firm, confident strokes.

I can’t suppress my moans as the tension begins to unravel under his soft yet firm touch. “That feels amazing,” I breathe, relaxing into his hold.

“You’re too tense,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. One of his hands slide up to massage the base of my neck, sending tingles down my spine. “You need to relax, my darling.”

Darling. The endearment makes my pulse flutter, and a fire kindles low in my belly. I crave his dominance, his possessiveness—I want to surrender myself completely to him.

“Lie down,” he tells me, as though reading my thoughts. I lay on my stomach on the couch. He stands over me, and his hands begin to work their magic, kneading the tension from my shoulders and back. His fingers are strong yet gentle, applying just the right amount of pressure to relieve my muscles.

A soft moan escapes my lips when he presses into a particularly tight knot, and I feel his hands still for a moment. “Does that feel good?” he asks quietly.

“Mmm, yes,” I sigh, sinking deeper into the cushions. “Your hands are amazing.”

Damien resumes the massage, gliding his palms down my spine. “I’m glad I can provide you with some relief. You seemed quite stressed earlier.” His tone is casual, but I detect an undercurrent.

He goes even lower and inserts his hands under the seam of my shirt, now massaging my lower back. A delicious shiver runs down my spine at his touch. To belong so completely to this man, to be the center of his world… the thought awakens a dark longing inside me, an ache I’ve never felt before.

“Keep going,” I breathe, fighting to keep my voice steady. I notice the way Damien’s hands still and how his gaze seems to smolder.

“Keep going where, my darling?” His voice is a low rumble laced with sinful promise. “If there’s something you need, you only have to ask.”

I swallow hard, heat pooling between my legs. How am I supposed to admit such a taboo desire? Yet one look at Damien’s intense expression tells me I can confess anything to him without judgment.

“I want you to dominate me,” I whisper, the words escaping on a shuddering breath. “Possess me, claim me as yours completely.” I bury my face in the cushions, my pulse racing.

“Genevieve.” Damien’s voice is rough with arousal. “Look at me.”

I slowly raise my head to find him watching me with a mix of passion, love, and wonder. “My perfect little one,” he purrs, trailing a finger down my spine. “Your wish is my command.”

Damien leans down and presses a searing kiss to the back of my neck, sending shockwaves of pleasure through me.

“On your knees,” he orders softly, helping me up. I sink to my knees on the plush carpet, anticipation racing through my veins. Damien stalks around to face me, desire etched into every line of his handsome features.

“You belong to me now,” he says, cupping my chin and forcing me to meet his gaze. “Your body, your heart, your soul—all mine to do with as I please. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I breathe, trembling with need. Damien’s possessive claim ignites something primal inside me, a craving to be owned and mastered by this powerful man.

A slow, wicked smile curves his lips. “Good girl.” He strokes my hair, the praise warming me from within. “Now, let’s see if that pretty mouth of yours is good for anything other than talking back.”

My eyes widen as Damien unbuckles his belt, the implications of his words hitting me. He wants me to... oh God. Arousal and anxiety war inside me, the thought of such an intimate act both thrilling and daunting.

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