Page 15 of Forced By the Bratva

I withdrew my hand and decided to take the time to examine his other features.

My eyes slowly moved down to his lips, which had been roughly against mine the previous night. Their fierceness was calling me; I wanted to touch them but was too scared to try.

Even in his sleep, he could look this effortlessly handsome. I wondered what he’d look like when he was making an effort to be hot. His hard but smooth body and athletic build were evident, glaring right at me because he was bare-chested. That further drew my attention to the rest of his body—his muscular arms and chest.

I gasped and stared in awe when I took in the nature of the rest of his upper body. These were features that I hadn’t gotten to notice earlier—or maybe I did, but I had been too nervous to think about it.

Inky tendrils crept up his neck, curling around his ears and wrapping around his biceps like ornate cuffs. His chest and torso were a canvas of bold and colorful designs, telling stories of adventure, passion, and rebellion. I had no idea why I was surprised that he had so many tattoos, ones with bizarre and scary themes; I mean, with what I’d seen of him when he’d showed up for the wedding, it was plain that he was a very dangerous man.

The tattoos blended so perfectly into his skin, like an extension of his body, that one would think he’d been born with them.

Despite the edgy, rough-around-the-edges appearance and the scary waves it would have sent around me, I could not help the sparkle of attraction I seemed to feel toward him.

He was handsome, and his masculine allure and the fact that he seemed like a dangerous person somehow added to the mystery around him, which caused me to find him even more attractive.

I was certain that if the situation we met had been different, I would have liked him.

My eyes lingered on his biceps, and I was tempted to touch him. This time, I could not hold myself back.

My hands slowly crawled away from my sides, where they’d stayed put all along, and were carefully creeping toward his biceps when he suddenly moved, and his eyes fluttered open.

My hand hung halfway for the next few seconds before falling to my side, and I immediately looked away from him, clearing my throat at the same time. Unfortunately, I wasn’t fast enough—he’d already caught me in the act.

I thought he would get annoyed, but instead, his lips slowly curled up into a smile that wasn’t too friendly but had a dangerous undertone attached to it.

The nature of the smile deprived me of the desire to return it because I had no idea if I was meant to do anything at all.

The smile was followed by a rough chuckle, which seemed to have come from the back of his throat.

My breath hitched, and I caught my tongue between my teeth when he leaned forward. Without a word, he wrapped his hand more firmly around me and pulled me to himself. I would have crashed into his body if not for the fact that I’d set my arms as a barrier; my palm turned out to be the one to slam into his robust frame.

Surprisingly, I felt my body immediately react to his closeness.

“Good morning.” His deep, masculine voice reverberated like music in my ears when I heard the sound leave his throat. His deep hazel gaze rested on my face, and because I was inside his arms and directly facing him, there was nowhere I could turn to evade his gaze completely.

“Good morning,” I said shyly, trying to avoid his gaze because I couldn’t stop thinking of everything, he’d done to me last night and how I’d reacted, showing him that I was enjoying it and wanted more. I could not help but wonder what he thought of me.

He leaned into me, and with his index finger, he swept a strand of my hair backward so that he could have a clearer view of my face.

I tried to lower my gaze, so I didn’t have to look into his eyes, but he forced me to look up by placing a hand under my jaw.

“Look at me,” he said under his breath.

His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine and caused my breath to hitch. How could one person be so dangerously beautiful and still possess such a voice capable of putting anyone on edge?

I couldn’t help but feel ashamed of what I wished his hands would do to me.

My thoughts were cut short when I suddenly heard him clear his throat, and I quickly looked up to find his burning gaze on me. I swallowed hard and bit down on my tongue because I could not help the feeling that he must have read my carnal thoughts.

“Feels good to see what you look like in the morning. You are like a flower that just bloomed, only that this flower seems a little bit awkward and prefers hiding under the shadows,” he said with a straight face.

I would have liked to smile at his words, but due to his flat expression and how he said them, I had no idea if he was complimenting me or being sarcastic, so I maintained an equally straight face.

I felt a slight grumble in my stomach, suggesting I was hungry. Of course, it was the late hours of the morning, and the intense sexual activity we engaged in last night was enough to wear anyone out.

He heard the grumbling in my stomach and let out a light chuckle. “I guess it’s time to find something to eat. I’m hungry too, so I know it’s just a matter of time before my stomach starts to grumble.”

He finally moved, and his grip around me loosened. I took that chance to escape his arms and offered to prepare breakfast. We were married now, after all. That was supposed to be part of my duties as his wife.

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