Page 61 of Forced Innocent Bratva Bride

Like poison, he'd slowly moved through my system, penetrating my body, mind, and soul. With time, Alexei had found a way to break all of my defenses, to bring down my high walls and take a place in my heart.

It was like magic, but he’d pulled off the stunt. He made me feel something for him, something I didn't think I'd ever feel for a man I hated so much. I had to admit, this was a huge amount of progress, and he made it happen.

These few days had been the happiest since I arrived at the mansion as his wife, and I'd give anything for things to remain the way they were or get better.

I rolled underneath the sheets, my smile broadening. My hand dared to slide down between my legs as I recalled his touch from last night. I struggled to push the illicit thoughts to the back of my mind, but the more I tried, the more the naked images of us flashed in my head.

It was as though I could still feel his touch against my skin, like I could feel his presence, even though he'd left for workalready. Everything reminded me of him, and his scent lingered in the air. His cologne clung to the sheets and pillows, teasing my senses.

Alexei's essence remained, fueling my hunger, my craving for him. We'd made love all night, yet I still wanted him so badly. I couldn't get enough.

A soft moan escaped my lips as my middle finger settled on my cunt, gliding over my entrance. My head was filled with memories of him eating me up, sucking on my nipples, fondling my breasts, and penetrating my pussy relentlessly.

These images stirred my passion, kindling an unquenchable flame that burned so much that it almost consumed me.

I arched my back, feeling the spark of electricity surging through my body as I played with myself. My palm circled around my clit, applying insistent strokes that released pent-up tension. I pursed my lips, contorting my face in pleasure with tightly shut eyes and a hand over my mouth.

The thought of him thrusting deeply inside me, together with my fingers mimicking the gentle scratch of a vinyl record, catapulted me to climax.

My arched back fell back on the bed, muscles relaxing as my body released its tension. My hand wasn't Alexei's cock, and my touch was nothing compared to his, but at least this would do for now.

I raised my brows at the sight of my glistening fingers coated in my own wetness. A sticky strand linked my hand and cunt, a testament to my arousal.

What have you done to me, Alexei Tarasov? Why do I want you so bad? Why can't I get enough of you?I wondered.

I let out a deep sigh and got out of bed, my feet resting on the cool marble floor. Staying in bed all day wouldn't be beneficial to me. I needed to occupy my mind with somethingelse. Maybe I'd grab a book later, but for now, I needed to clear my head.

Rising to my feet, I strolled over to the bathroom and freshened up, changed into some clean clothes, and put on my perfume. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn't had something to eat yet, and as I headed downstairs to the kitchen, my phone chimed in my hand.

I glanced at my screen, and my brows furrowed. My expression darkened a little at the realization that it was a text from Bryce Foster. I'd told that obsessed scumbag to stay the hell away from me. Why couldn't he just do as he was told?

I tried to ignore the message, but something prompted me to open it. Curiosity got the best of me, and I did. My eyes widened in concern, my heart sinking into my stomach as I read the paragraph-long suicide note he sent.

“…it's worthless living without you in my life, so I'll do us both a favor and end it all. It's better to die with the memories of our time together than live and watch you be with another man. Goodbye, Smurfette.”

This part of the text shook my core, turning my stomach and sending shivers down my spine. I could almost be sick; the chill that had settled over me was that intense.

Yes, I did hate him, but not enough to let him kill himself. I couldn't live with myself knowing that I was responsible for someone taking their own life.

With trembling hands, I called his number, but his phone was switched off. “Damnit, Bryce!” I exclaimed softly, my tone laced with a hint of frustration.

I stood in the living room, fingers combing through my hair as I thought about what to do. I had to stop Bryce from doing something stupid in the name of pain and abandonment.

He wasn't bluffing; I knew that much. The young man was more than capable of taking his own life. Bryce wasn't one to make empty threats, hence the reason I was so worried.

His line wasn't going through, and there was no way I could reach him and stop this madness without leaving the house.

Alexei and I had come to an agreement that I could go out at will, but the catch was that I'd have to keep him abreast of my whereabouts. And I would have to tell him first before leaving.

I'd told him that I didn't need the bodyguards following me around wherever I went, and he'd agreed that I could occasionally step out without them.

I dialed my husband's number, but he wasn't answering. I called back again in desperate need of his permission to leave the house, but just like before, there was no response. This was weird; he always picked up my calls without hesitation.

Then, I recalled that he'd mentioned he had an important meeting today. Maybe he was in the meeting and had silenced his phone.

I scratched the back of my head, pacing back and forth, confused on what to do. I couldn't leave the house without telling my husband first; that would only start another fight, and I wasn't ready for that. On the other hand, I couldn't stay home and let Bryce take his life because of me. I needed to do something, and I needed to do it fast.

“Think, Lori, think,” I muttered to myself, my tone laced with urgency.

---