Page 14 of Arranged Bratva Virgin

“Stop being so childish,” she snaps at me, downing her entire glass of whiskey. I stare at her in disbelief, and she places the glass on the table and turns to glare at me again. “I just don’t want to stay here. It has nothing to do with this place. It’s just—it’s because—"

She bites her lower lip, sending waves of heated lust through my body.

“It’s because what? What is the problem?”

I stand next to the sofa, over her, looking down at her. Her bright blue eyes are wide and glittering fiercely as she stares back up at me. Fuck. I just want to take her right here on the sofa. I want to flip her over the back of the chair and fuck her from behind with her wedding dress wrapped around her waist.

I clench my fist. The first time I am with her, tonight, I will go slower, be more tender. It doesn’t have to be so raw and aggressive. I am just feeling so desperate to taste her—but I have to keep that under control at least to a degree.

She wrestles with whatever is on her mind, and then sighs heavily.

“I don’t want to stay here with you. I want my own room,” she admits finally, and the reality of what is worrying her slams into me. She isn’t stressed about being here in a strange place or the luxury of it. She isn’t worried about where she is at all. She is only concerned about not sharing a bed with me.

She thinks she is too good for me.

She thinks I am beneath her. She is too highly ranked to sleep with a commoner like me.

I feel the snarl forming on my lips.

She can think twice if she believes we are not going to fuck tonight.

I am just as good as any man she has set her sights on or ever been with, and I will prove that to her in the bedroom. In fact, I know I am better in the bedroom than anyone she has experienced.

She is my wife, and she is mine for the rest of her life.

We will finalize this union whether she wants to do it or not.

“You want your own room?” I snap. My voice raised and booming through the space.

She flinches slightly but then looks even more defiant.

“I want my own room,” she nods, turning her head slightly in caution as she answers. She knows she is pushing her luck with this. I have already made myself clear in the car on the way here—we are married, and we will be sharing a bed tonight. There is no further discussion to be had, so the fact that she is still trying to get out of this is starting to really piss me off.

I reach down and grab her arm, stepping back and pulling her to her feet. She stumbles against me and cries out.

“Come on then, let’s go find you a bed.” I say darkly.

“Stef—"

“No, let’s give you what you want.” I start dragging her down the hallway, past the different rooms, towards the one I know has the largest and most extravagant bed in it.

I push her ahead of me, through the doorway, and into the bedroom. I flick the lights on, keeping them dimmed low.

She spins on her heels and glares at me with hatred. “Don’t ever push me around like that,” she shouts.

“Take it off,” I demand.

“What the—"

“I said take it off,” I demand again, nodding my head to gesture over her wedding dress with my eyes.

“Leave,” she shouts. “Get out.”

I step closer to her, my body right up against hers. The heat between us is fierce and intense. I wrap my hand around her jaw and tilt her face up to look at mine. I lean close, my lips inches from hers.

“Strip, Darya. I want to fuck my wife tonight,” I whisper darkly.

Her eyes grow so wide I can see the entire dreamland of blue within them. My cock is already growing hard at the thought of thrusting into her. I have waited too long for this. I have been watching her and dreaming about her, obsessing. I can’t wait another night.

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