Page 49 of Captured By the Bratva

Later that evening, as I prepared Emily for bedtime, I snuggled with her on the bed and watched her eyes droop shut. Letting her rest with me in the bed never turned out well. I was always too afraid I’d roll over her. Sometimes I needed her company, though, to see that she was healthy and well as proof that I was doing the best I could by her.

Stroking my finger over her cheek, I sighed and wondered what would be next for her, too.

If Ivan let us go without any trauma, I’d need to find another job. He’d told me that my apartment would be paid for until I was “released” and that meant I had a place to go home to, but I’d need to job hunt. Then Hannah. What would I do for a sitter? I hoped she was all right, but I couldn’t dare ask her to be the sitter again.

As I envisioned a life after being here with Ivan, confident that I would remain unharmed since I had been all this time, I despised having to leave at all.

Being near Ivan felt right. Hearing Margie assume I’d be another woman to fit in with Mila and Amy sounded perfect.

I wished, from the depths of my heart, that things could be different. Just like I couldn’t regret Dominic raping me because it gave me Emily, I refused to hold a grudge against Ivan for capturing me and holding me hostage here. Without his doing that, I never would have had a chance to know that bliss of him fucking me hard. I never would have had an opportunity to slightly get to know him—enough that I missed him when he was gone.

“I wish I could give you everything you deserve,” I whispered to Emily as she slept.

A big, safe home with room for her to play to her little heart’s content instead of being cramped in my dated, chilly apartment. Her own room, without any bright lights from the street shining through the curtains. Brand-new clothes instead of threadbare thrifted items. Food without any worries that it’d run out.

All of it. Ivan had done this for me, for her, without a single hesitation, and I appreciated it.

More than anything, I wished I could let her continue this slow and tenuous bonding experience I'd witnessed between them. How he gazed at her when he held her when I wasn’tavailable to take over. How she peered at him with wonder and batted her hands at his face as she babbled.

I appreciated all he’d done, but the depth of my longing and desire for him didn’t stop there. Still, after all these weeks, I felt the phantom tingle of his cock filling me so harshly. That delicious thrill of surrendering to him as he teased me then made me come so hard. The touch of his hands on me, free to do as he pleased while he kept me tied up, and that was the kicker. I knew that he wouldn’t hurt me for the hell of it. He’d understood, without any words or cues given to him, how to push me so far that I’d stop dwelling in the thoughts clouding my head and justfeel. To just let go. That liberation was amazing, something I knew he would be the only master of, and it filled me with desolation that no other man would ever compare.

It was all too easy to wish for a lifewithhim. Ivan was a rugged, rough man, but it was too damn simple to see how he could fit in with us. As my expert lover. As Emily’s patient daddy. As our formidable protector.

I blinked, overwhelmed with wanting him and missing him. This realization of love had snuck up on me, but I knew without a doubt that I was falling for him.

I was catching feelings for the man I had no business desiring at all.

19

IVAN

Veronica chose a room and I followed her into it. The fact that she didn’t want to have a scene with a window where people could watch wasn’t the norm. She really did want privacy with me, and I worried that this seclusion with me—that she’d never sought before because she liked to put on a show—meant that she wanted me exclusively.

I wasn’t available.

I really wasn’t. My body craved Becca’s. My dick wanted to sink into her pussy. And it was that sweet young woman’s voice I wanted to hear moaning my name.

No one else, especially not Veronica.

“You’re not…” The older woman turned to me after I closed the door. “Lock it.”

I arched my brow, reaching back to flip the lever for the lock. Our clubs didn’t allow total lock-downs for the safety of the clients. Staff could override the locks anyone on the inside implemented, but she wanted that extra precaution.

Just what the hell do you want here?

“You’re not wired or anything, are you?”

I crossed my arms. I was intrigued and slightly annoyed, but now, I was curious and bordering on full-out concern. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

She licked her lips. Her pale face was pink in here, lit with the glow of only a red lamp in the corner. I walked over toward the wall and turned on the bigger light near the softer cushioned area designed for aftercare. Now, I saw her fully, and the fear and worry on her face were unmistakable.

“You’re not wired, right? Listening devices and such?”

I shook my head. “No. I’m not.”

“Because I don’t want it coming back to me that I told anyone about this.”

“Told anyone what?” I was on edge, alert and impatient.

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