Page 46 of Forced Bratva Hostage

We were supposed to have been at the party about thirty minutes ago; I'd been ready ever since, but she still hadn't finished yet. This would be our first time attending a gathering as a couple, the first time that I would be going out with her.

Maybe she wanted to make a good first impression on my associate, which was an excellent idea; however, at what cost?

I heaved a sigh, glancing at my watch again, my brows creasing. Was every other married man out there putting up with this same thing?

I bowed my head, fingers pinching the bridge of my nose.

While I waited, I needed a distraction from this subtle anger swelling within me—something to keep me busy until she was ready.

A small smile played on my lips, considering how quickly I was starting to change; the me from before would've left the house already. I wasn't exactly the patient type in situations like this; in fact, I'd always hated the idea of waiting. Yet, there I was, waiting for a woman I'd married with only a little knowledge of.

I found it strange how she was effortlessly sneaking her way into my heart, breaking my defenses, and transforming me into a man I barely recognized.

My expression softened, my mind drifting back to our last intimate moment—exactly the distraction I needed. Memories unfolded like a tapestry, and like a leaf on a river, I floated back to that moment.

I could still smell the scent of her arousal mixed with our sweat as the sound of her melodious moans echoed in my head.That ironically happened to be one of the best rides I'd had, and to think it was from a woman with very little sex experience.

She'd outdone herself that day—twisting, twirling, and grinding like a pro. I taught her well.

A smirk lined a corner of my lips.

Beyond the sex, I felt we had a deeper connection to each other. She was clearly drawn to me as much as I was drawn to her, and I was yet to understand how she'd managed to pull that off.

She was all that I could think of, day and all night. Wren was in my head, running around and occupying my mind like she fucking owned the place.

Was I becoming soft? Wasn't it too soon to feel unmoved by other women simply because I was married? Was it normal to feel this way, or was I under some kind of spell?

I'd experimented with the notion, occasionally attempting to entertain the idea of being with someone else. But no matter how hard I tried, I would always end up with the same result—unenthused by the prospect.

It was intriguing and concerning at the same time, especially because I had no control over the situation. She was all that I wanted—Wren and only Wren.

Never had I felt this way about any woman before, and not even my 4 P.M. booty call, Veronica, could ever hold a candle to the flame Wren had ignited in me.

How did she do it? How did an innocent girl manage to steal my attention, my focus, from the others to herself?

With her guileless charm, Wren had captivated me, her innocence and beauty rendering me spellbound.

I heaved a sigh, a mix of emotions flooding through me as my thoughts diverted for a moment, her announcement ringing in my head.

I’m pregnant.

My heart swelled with excitement at the thought of being a father as I imagined a new life. However, apprehension crept into my mind, concerns about responsibility and provision. I was just as terrified as I was elated, like walking a tightrope.

But one thing was certain: Despite Wren's glaring fear and unreadiness, we were both going to find a way to make it work. Neither of us had been a parent before; this was a new territory, and we would tread it together.

My eyes darted down at my watch, then up the stairs in the direction of the bedroom. She was starting to piss me off with how long it took for her to get ready. Maybe I'd ask my brother, Roman, or my cousin, Kostya, for some tips on how to manage situations like this.

My jaw tightened, and a faint scowl flashed across my face, my patience wearing thinner by the second. I paced back and forth in the living room, hands in my pockets, then on my waist, as I glanced at my watch every now and then.

I lowered my head in dismay, fingers massaging my temples as if to soothe this pang of vexation within me.

As I raged on the inside, her presence invaded my senses, and the majestic clicks of her heels against the floor caught my attention. I raised my head, my brows rising as I watched her graciously gliding down the stairs.

While descending, her stride was purposeful, like a beauty queen sashaying down a catwalk. She was dressed up in a fine red gown with a long slit that revealed a tantalizing glimpse of her alluring thigh.

Her dark hair was styled in loose, effortless waves that framed her baby face with elegance. Her makeup was mild yet sophisticated, accentuating her natural beauty as her soft porcelain skin simmered in the lights.

She was gorgeous, radiant with elegance and style.

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