Page 27 of Knocked-Up Bratva Prisoner

“You’ll just have to figure it out. Seeing as I can’t trust you, this is what’s happening.”

“But this is stupid. I need privacy. I need to—I need my hand.” I moan loudly.

“Clara, I gave you privacy. I gave you your own room, even, but you took advantage of my leniency and ran away again.”

“Please, you can’t do this. Please just let me go home. I won’t even tell anyone. I can sneak back in the same way I snuck out.” I pull my arm away from him and the handcuffs cut into my skin again. Dammit, that hurts.

He laughs again. What the fuck is so funny?

He leans close to me and the heat from his body pulses over my skin.

His stomach muscles ripple as he moves, and I find myself staring at his tanned skin. Stop looking, Clara, pull yourself together.

I bite my lower lip as I drag my eyes upwards, over his chest, over his board shoulders, running the taunt line of his neck—then I meet his stare and see amusement in his eyes.

Embarrassment flushes my cheeks pink and heat spreads over my face.

He caught me staring.

He reaches his hand up to my face and brushes his warm fingers over my cheeks. It sends a thrilling bolt of electricity down my spine and I feel my lips parting.

I can’t help myself—I’m thinking of how amazing it felt to kiss him at the restaurant the other day. Oh my word. His lips. His face is so close to mine. I could just—

Stop.

Stop.

Stop.

Get a grip, girl. He kidnapped you, again. You can’t trust him.

My lust turns to anger because I don’t know what else to do with it. I have to put it somewhere, and I certainly can’t kiss this asshole, so I end up shouting at him instead.

“I hate you for this,” I scream. Suddenly not caring ifhe’sangry or annoyed. I want to go home. I want to get away from him. I don’t want to feel so attracted to the man who took me against my will and handcuffed me to his body.

Alexei moves towards me. He grabs my wrists and tugs me against his body, rough and angry. His eyes are piercing intome. He’s had enough of my shit, I can see it all over his face—his jaw muscles are feathering in annoyance, his bright blue eyes like thorns stinging into me.

“If you fight me, you will regret it,” he snarls into my face, so close I can feel the heat of his breath against my skin.

I feel tears stinging my eyes. I don’t want him to see how scared I am. “Please, let me go.”

“Stop asking,” he yells, his voice booming through the room. “Stop asking. It isn’t going to happen. You are mine now, and you will be staying right here with me until I decide you can go.”

“What do you want from me?” I scream in desperation.

He picks up a cold cup of coffee from the bedside table and flings it across the room. It shatters against the wall near the window and I cringe into myself, blocking my face with my free hand and shutting my eyes as tightly as I can in order to block out the look of hatred and rage on his face. I pushed him too far. I know what happens when you push men too far.

Right now, he looks just like my uncle when he gets angry. I had no idea Alexei could look like that, and I feel terrified to my core.

My body starts to shake uncontrollably, a reaction I can’t stop and one that embarrasses me. I scrunch my eyes even tighter shut to try and stop the tears, but they are spilling through despite my best efforts.

Alexei has gone quiet. I don’t feel any movement against my cuffed hand. I can feel the heat of his body, and I can hear his heavy breathing, but he is otherwise silent.

I’m too scared to look, too scared to move.

My free hand is still up over my face to protect myself. I just want to hide away. I wish I could crawl under the bed and disappear.

“Clara.”

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