Page 46 of Knocked Up by the Bratva

He stops right in front of me, his eyes roaming over my body in a way that makes my skin burn. “Now that’s better,” he murmurs, his voice rough with approval. His fingers brush along the side of my arm, trailing heat in their wake. “I want to see you, Jennifer. All of you.”

My breath hitches as his hand moves to my waist, pulling me closer. His touch is firm, but not painful, just enough to remind me of the control he has over me. I want to push him away, to stop this from happening, but at the same time, I can’tdeny the thrill that courses through me. It’s maddening, how my body reacts to him, how much I’ve craved his touch despite everything.

“You know,” he says, leaning down, his breath hot against my neck, “I’ve missed this. Missed you.”

The admission startles me, and for a brief second, I think I see something softer flicker in his eyes. But it’s gone as quickly as it appeared, replaced by that familiar, dominating presence.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is quieter now, though no less dangerous. “About everything?”

I swallow hard, trying to push back the lump in my throat. “I was going to… until you killed Russel,” I whisper, my voice trembling. “After that, I couldn’t. I couldn’t trust you.”

Timur’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, he pulls me closer, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “I told you not to run from me, didn’t I?”

I close my eyes, feeling the heat of his body press against mine, the tension winding tighter between us. “I had no choice.”

His fingers grip my waist tighter, possessively, as he presses me up against the wall, pinning me there. “If you had no choice but to run, you should understand thatIhad no choice but to chase you.”

I feel my pulse quicken as his mouth moves dangerously close to mine, our breaths mingling. I don’t know if I’m terrified or desperately wanting him to close the distance. His eyes burn into mine, making it impossible to look away.

“It’s all fine now,” he whispers, his lips brushing against mine, teasing me, daring me to resist him. “You’re here now, with me. That’s what matters.”

I can feel the weight of his words, the finality in them, and it’s terrifying. He leans in, his mouth just inches away from mine, and for a moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, to claim me in the way he always does. My breath catches, my body betraying me once again as I lean into him, craving that contact.

His lips hover near mine, so close I can feel his breath, warm and teasing against my skin. The anticipation coils tight in my chest, every nerve in my body sparking with an unbearable tension. I know I should pull away. I know I should resist. As his mouth finally,finallyclaims mine, I crumble. It’s soft at first, a brush of lips that’s almost gentle, coaxing me to respond.

And I do.

My hands find their way to his chest, clutching at his shirt, and the kiss deepens. His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me closer, and my knees feel weak, as though the floor beneath me is slipping away. I’ve kissed him before, but this is different. There’s no harshness, no possessive aggression. It’s… sweet. Tender, even. His lips move slowly, savoring every second, like he’s drawing something out of me I didn’t even know I had left to give.

I let out a small, breathless sigh, and his grip tightens, pulling me further into him. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, and when I open for him, it feels like a surrender. Like I’m offering more than just my body, but every part of myself I’ve tried to keep hidden. My heart races, pounding in my chest, and I can’t think. I can’t focus on anything except the way he feels against me, how perfectly our bodies fit together.

His other hand slides down my side, over the curve of my waist, then lower, pulling me flush against him. I can feel the heat radiating from his body, the way he’s holding back, controlling himself with an effort I can sense. This time, there’s no roughness, no demands. Just him, guiding me gently, makingme feel wanted in a way that makes me want to give him everything.

My breath hitches as his hand cups my face, thumb brushing over my cheek with an almost unbearable softness. I break the kiss for a second, my lips tingling from the intensity, but he doesn’t let me pull away far. His forehead rests against mine, and for a moment, it feels like the world has shrunk down to just the two of us.

“Jennifer,” he murmurs, his voice softer than I’ve ever heard it. His lips trail along my jaw, down to the sensitive spot beneath my ear, and I shiver. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

I can barely respond, my head spinning, lost in the way he’s touching me. The way his lips press soft, open-mouthed kisses down the side of my neck. “I can’t…,” I breathe, but I don’t know what I’m trying to say. Maybe that I can’t resist him. Maybe that I can’t deny how much I’ve missed him, how much I’ve wanted this, despite everything.

His hands slide down to my hips, holding me in place as he pulls back slightly, his eyes locking with mine. The intensity in them is undeniable, but there’s something new there. A warmth I haven’t seen before. It’s unnerving, and yet, I can’t look away.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice husky, like he’s holding back a storm. His eyes flick down, taking in the red lace dress that clings to my body. I feel my cheeks heat up, embarrassed by how exposed I am in front of him, but the way he looks at me makes me feel powerful. Like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.

His fingers trail along the edge of the dress, skimming my skin, and I shiver. “I like this,” he murmurs, his voice lower now. “I think I want it off.”

A rush of heat floods my body at his words, and I bite my lip, trying to keep control of myself. But the way he’s touching me, the way his gaze is eating me up, makes it impossible to resist. My hands shake as I reach for the zipper at the back, but he stops me, his fingers curling around mine.

“Let me,” he whispers, his breath hot against my ear. His hand moves to the zipper, and with agonizing slowness, he begins to pull it down. Every inch of my skin that’s revealed to him feels like it’s burning, the air between us charged with a tension that’s almost unbearable.

The dress slides off my shoulders, pooling at my feet, and I’m left standing in front of him, bare, vulnerable. His eyes drink me in, moving over every inch of me, and I feel exposed in a way that’s more than physical.

I should feel embarrassed, but instead, there’s a thrill that courses through me. I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he’s looking at me now. It’s possessive, yes, but there’s something deeper. Something raw and undeniable.

I don’t push him away. I can’t. The truth is, I’ve never felt like this with anyone else, and as much as I want to deny it, I want him too. More than I should.

His lips brush against mine again, and this time, the kiss is softer, slower. Like he’s savoring the moment. Like he’s claiming me in a way that leaves no room for doubt.

I let him.

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