Page 37 of Kidnapped By the Bratva

She doesn’t respond, her body still beneath me. Her breathing is ragged, her eyes squeezed shut. Her walls tighten around my cock as she comes, a gasp caught in the back of her throat. Nobody has ever looked so perfect.

With a grunt, my grip tightens around her. I reach my peak, spilling hot come inside her, whole body coiled tight. For a moment the world goes still, as our combined juices cool between our joined bodies.

I let go of her wrists, pulling back slightly to look down at her. Her face is flushed, her lips parted as she breathes heavily, and I smirk, knowing I’ve already won.

“Enjoy yourself?” I ask, smirking.

She looks breathlessly up at me, unable to form the words.

I lean down and kiss her again, this time slower, softer, savoring the way she responds to me, the way her body begins to melt under my touch. She’s inexperienced, yes, but that only makes it better. She’s mine to mold, mine to break.

I’m going to enjoy every second of it.

Chapter Eighteen - Sophia

I wake up slowly, feeling a dull ache in my legs and abdomen that immediately reminds me of last night. My mind is still hazy, but flashes of what happened start coming back to me—the way Maxim touched me, the way his hands claimed every part of my body. I shift uncomfortably, wincing as I sit up. My body feels sore in places I hadn’t even thought about before.

I glance over at the empty side of the bed. Maxim isn’t there, but before I can wonder where he went, the bathroom door opens, and he steps out, a towel slung low around his waist. His broad, muscular chest glistens with beads of water, and his abs tighten as he walks toward me. I quickly look away, my cheeks flushing as last night floods back into my mind.

God, what is wrong with me?I think, feeling heat crawl up my neck. I’m supposed to hate him. He’s the man who kidnapped me, the man who used me as a pawn. Yet here I am, blushing like some naive schoolgirl. Why did it all feel so good? I can still feel the ghost of his touch on my skin, and the thought makes my stomach flutter in a way I don’t want to acknowledge.

“See something you like?” Maxim’s voice is low and teasing, pulling me out of my thoughts. I can hear the smirk in his tone without even looking at him. My face flushes even deeper, and I bite my lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a response.

I turn my gaze to the window instead, trying to ignore the warmth spreading through my body. Last night was… overwhelming. I didn’t expect to feel the things I did, didn’t expect to want him the way I did. It’s confusing, frustrating. How am I supposed to make sense of my feelings when everything inside me feels so twisted?

“I’d offer you a shower, but I doubt you could even stand long enough to take one,” Maxim chuckles as he walks toward the dresser, his voice thick with amusement. I glance at him briefly, feeling a flicker of annoyance at his cocky tone, but I don’t say anything.

My legs are sore—everythingis sore. He’s right, but I’m not about to let him know that. I sit up carefully, trying not to wince too much, and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Maxim turns to me, a knowing smile playing on his lips as he tosses something in my direction. I catch it before it hits me—a T-shirt.

“Here,” he says, still smirking. “Wear this.”

I look down at the oversized shirt in my hands and quickly pull it on, grateful to have something covering me. It’s way too big, falling past my knees, but I don’t care. At least it’s comfortable.

Maxim leans back against the dresser, his arms crossed over his chest as he watches me with an almost predatory gaze. “You look good in my clothes,” he says, his voice teasing. “Though, I think you looked better last night.”

My face burns with embarrassment. “Stop,” I mutter, standing up. My legs feel weak beneath me, but I don’t want him to see how much he’s affecting me. I take a step, determined to walk past him, but the second I put weight on my legs, my knees buckle. I stumble, nearly falling, but before I hit the floor, Maxim’s hands are on me, steadying me.

His grip is firm but gentle as he helps me stand upright. His closeness sends my heart racing, and for a moment, I hate how much my body reacts to him. I hate that his touch ignites something inside me that I can’t control.

“Careful,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my ear. “Looks like I was right.”

I glare up at him, hating the smug look on his face. “I’m fine,” I snap, though the weakness in my legs tells a different story.

“Sure, you are,” he says, his voice dripping with amusement. “You should thank me for last night. I was gentle, considering it was your first time.”

I swallow hard, feeling my stomach twist. The memory of his hands on me, the way he took control, flashes through my mind, and I feel a heat creeping up my body again. How could I have enjoyed it? How could I have wanted more?

I pull away from him, putting as much distance between us as the room allows. “It doesn’t matter,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around myself. “This is all just a business arrangement, right?”

Maxim’s expression darkens slightly, though that smirk never fully leaves his lips. “Business or not, you’re my wife now,” he says, his voice low, dangerous.

The words send a shiver down my spine, and I hate that it’s not entirely out of fear. There’s something else—something I don’t want to admit, but it lingers in the back of my mind. The idea of being his, of belonging to him, stirs something deep inside me. Something I’m not ready to confront.

“Take a bath,” he says, his tone softening slightly as he steps away. “You’ll feel better.”

I watch him walk back to the dresser, pulling out clothes for himself. His back is to me now, and I take the moment to compose myself, trying to calm the racing of my heart. I can’t let him see how much he’s affecting me. I won’t.

Slowly, I turn and walk toward the bathroom, the soreness in my body making each step feel like a challenge. As I reach the door, I glance back at him one last time. He’s still there, still watching me, and the intensity in his gaze makes my breath hitch.

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