Page 20 of Captured By the Bratva

His hand trails down my arm, each touch deliberate, claiming, until he stops, his fingers resting just above my wrist. His eyes darken as he leans in, his voice a low murmur that reverberates through me. “You said my name when you came just now, didn’t you?”

The words break through the last of my defenses, tearing down the walls I’ve so carefully built. His touch, his presence—they stir something deep within me, something I can’t deny.

And beneath his commanding exterior, I catch a glimpse of something else, something raw and vulnerable, a pain hidden beneath the power he wields. The realization pulls me in further, making it impossible to look away. “Yes,” I mutter as his eyes demand an answer.

I want to resist him, to keep some part of myself untouched by his influence, but the pull is undeniable. He steps back slightly, his gaze unwavering as he speaks, his voice calm but unyielding. “We’ll sleep in the same bed tonight.” He pauses,letting the words sink in, daring me to challenge him. “Take off the towel.”

A flush rises to my cheeks, and I clutch the towel tighter, shaking my head. I won’t give him the satisfaction. “No,” I say, my voice trembling but defiant. “I won’t.”

For a moment, he says nothing, his expression unreadable. But then, with swift precision, he reaches out, his hand closing around the edge of the towel, and in one motion, he pulls it away, leaving me naked before his piercing gaze.

I gasp, heat flooding my face, but he doesn’t give me time to react. He lifts me up, his hands firm and sure, and places me on the bed, his gaze never leaving mine. “Get off me,” I say, pushing at his arms but it’s like trying to move a brick wall.

We stay like that, locked in each other’s stare, a storm of emotions passing between us—fear, defiance, desire, something darker, something I can’t name. The room is silent, save for the faint sound of our breathing, heavy with anticipation.

Up close, I can see faint lines around his eyes, markers of years spent in a world I can barely imagine. There’s a hardness to him, a coldness that makes me shiver despite the heat radiating from the fireplace.

"Why did you come here?" he asks, his voice carrying an undeniable weight of authority.

I open my mouth to respond, but no words come out. I’m not sure what he wants to hear or if there’s anything I could say that would appease him. He watches me, his lips curling into a predatory smile as he seems to sense my hesitation.

"Cat got your tongue?" he murmurs, reaching out to trace a finger down the side of my face. The touch is brief, almost gentle, but it sends a jolt through my body, startling me.

I flinch, trying to step back, but he catches my wrist before I can move any further. His grip is firm, unyielding, his fingers encircling my wrist with a strength I can’t ignore.

"Answer me," he demands, his voice rising slightly, a note of impatience clear in his tone.

I bite my lip, trying to steady my racing heart. "To clean," I finally manage. "Remember?”

His eyes darken at my words, and he leans in closer, his breath warm against my ear. "To clean? Is that what you think this is about?" he scoffs, his free hand moving to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing lightly over my trembling lips. "You think this is just a job, little girl?"

My breath hitches, and I shake my head quickly, too afraid to speak. His intense stare feels like it’s peeling away every layer, stripping me bare. I feel like I can’t hide anything from him, and it terrifies me.

"Look at me," he orders, his grip tightening on my wrist.

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes, but I obey, lifting my gaze to meet his. The intensity in his eyes is overwhelming, a force that sends a wave of dizziness washing over me. I’m trapped, completely at his mercy, and I know it.

"Better," he says, satisfaction lacing his voice. "Now, let’s get something straight. I don’t negotiate. I make demands. And right now, my demand is simple."

He pauses, his words heavy in the air, letting the threat settle, watching the fear flicker in my eyes. Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he releases my wrist, stepping back to give me a moment to steady myself.

He looks me up and down, his gaze lingering on my exposed collarbone before moving lower, his eyes tracing the curve of my body. A slow, predatory smile spreads across his lips, sending a chill down my spine.

"So beautiful," he says, his voice a low purr.

My heart races, and I can feel the heat rising in my cheeks. His fingers brush against my skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"You’re trembling," he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, sending a thrill through me. "Are you scared?"

I swallow hard, trying to steady my breathing. "Yes," I admit.

His eyes darken with something that might be approval. "Good. You should be. But don’t worry, I won’t hurt you… not unless you beg me to."

His words send a rush of heat between my legs, a confusing mix of fear and arousal. I don’t know how to respond, so I stay silent, watching him as he slides his hands around my waist, pulling me closer until our bodies are flush against each other. The warmth of his body sears into mine, making my senses reel.

"Look at me," he commands.

I obey, meeting his piercing blue eyes. There’s a flicker of something almost tender in them, but it’s quickly veiled by his usual coldness.

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