Page 56 of Captured By the Bratva

My heart aches at her words. “But how can I be sure? How do I know he doesn’t just see me as something to control, like everything else in his life?”

Anya leans forward, reaching out to gently touch my hand. “Revenge might have been what brought him to you, Cathy, but it’s love that keeps him here. His protectiveness, his desire to keep you safe—that isn’t just possessiveness. It’s him struggling to show you how he feels, the only way he knows how.”

I close my eyes, Anya’s words sinking in deeply. Slowly, memories surface—the way Ivan’s gaze would soften when he thought I wasn’t looking, the way he remembered every small detail about me, even the way he pulled me close at night, as if he was afraid I might disappear.

“Maybe you’re right,” I whisper, almost to myself. “I don’t want to live in fear of Jimmy anymore. I don’t want anyone to have any power over me. But I praised him for no longer keeping secrets, and then I kept the pregnancy from him. I’m just as bad as he is, aren’t I?”

She squeezes my hand. “When the right moment comes to tell him, you’ll know.”

40

IVAN

The soft glow of the bedside lamp casts a warm light over the room, illuminating the plush, king-sized bed that dominates the center of our shared bedroom. Cathy stands before me in the open doorway, her eyes twinkling with mischief and lust.

She’s wearing a black lace dress that clings to her curves, leaving little to the imagination. Her lips curl into a seductive smile as she catches my gaze, knowing full well the effect she has on me.

"Strip for me, Cathy," I command, my voice low and gravelly with desire. "Slowly."

Her smile widens, and she begins to move with deliberate slowness, each step a tease. She raises her arms above her head, letting the straps of her dress slip off her shoulders one by one.

The fabric pools at her elbows, revealing the delicate expanse of her collarbone and the slight rise of her breasts beneath the lace. I watch, every inch of her skin a study in slow seduction.

She bends forward slightly, allowing the dress to fall further, catching on her hips before sliding down her legs to puddle at her feet.

Her body is now clad only in a matching black lace bra and panties, the sheer material barely concealing the curve of her ass and the swell of her breasts. She pauses, looking over her shoulder at me, her eyes locked onto mine.

"Now the bra," I instruct, licking my lips as I take in the sight of her.

She arches an eyebrow, a playful challenge in her gaze, but she complies. With slow, deliberate movements, she unclasps the bra and lets it fall away, revealing her perfectly rounded breasts.

Her nipples are already hard, standing out against the cool air of the room. She cups them in her hands, rolling the nipples between her fingers, her eyes never leaving mine.

"Touch yourself," I growl, unable to hold back the command any longer. "Make yourself come while I watch."

She bites her lip, nodding slowly as she drops her hands to her sides. With a sly grin, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties and pulls them down, revealing the lush curve of her pussy.

She steps out of the panties, kicking them aside, leaving her completely naked before me. My cock strains against the zipper of my pants, desperate for release.

She spreads her legs slightly, her fingers trailing down her stomach to rest on her mound. She teases her clit with the lightest of touches, her eyes fluttering closed as she moans softly. I can see the wetness glistening on her lips, and it takes everything in me not to lunge forward and bury myself inside her.

"Faster," I demand, my voice rough with need.

Her hand moves quicker, two fingers circling her clit in tight, rapid circles. Her breathing becomes shallow and quick, her body arching as she chases the orgasm building within her.

I watch, mesmerized, as her free hand cups her breast, pinching her nipple between her fingers. Her hips buck rhythmically, thrusting her fingers deeper into her folds.

"Keep going," I whisper, my own hand drifting to my crotch, unzipping my pants to free my throbbing cock.

Her pace quickens, her moans growing louder as she nears the edge. I stroke my cock in time with her movements, my eyes never leaving her face. She’s close, so close, her body trembling with the effort of holding back.

"Stop," I command suddenly, my voice firm. "Don’t come yet."

Her eyes fly open, confusion and frustration flashing in their depths. She whimpers, her body twitching as she tries to obey, but the orgasm is too close. She looks at me pleadingly, her fingers still resting on her clit, barely moving.

"Please," she begs, her voice quivering. "Let me come."

I shake my head, a predatory grin spreading across my face. "Not yet. Let me take care of that."

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