Page 30 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

"You left yourself open," I say, my voice low and husky.

Sofia's eyes blaze up at me, a mix of frustration and something else I can't quite name. The heat between us is palpable, electric.

"Again," she demands, her voice breathless but determined.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak. This training session has become far more dangerous than I anticipated.

As I help Sofia to her feet, my hand lingers on her arm a moment too long. I can't ignore the warmth of her skin, the slight tremble in her muscles from exertion. My protective instincts war with a growing desire I hadn't anticipated.

"Ready?" I ask, my voice gruffer than intended.

Sofia nods, her green eyes narrowed in concentration. "Always."

We circle each other, the tension palpable. I'm hyper-aware of every movement, every breath. When she strikes, I'm caught off guard by her speed.

Before I can react, Sofia hooks her leg behind mine, throwing me off balance. In a fluid motion, she leverages her weight, and suddenly, I'm the one on my back, staring up at her triumphant face.

"Looks like I'm a quick learner," she says, a hint of a smile breaking through her usually icy demeanor.

I'm acutely aware of her body straddling mine, her hands pinning my wrists to the mat. Her blonde hair, escaped from its ponytail, frames her flushed face. For a moment, her carefully constructed walls seem to crumble, revealing a glimpse of the passionate woman beneath.

"You certainly are," I manage to say, my voice husky. "But don't get cocky. You still have a lot to learn."

Sofia's smile widens, a challenge glinting in her eyes. "Then teach me, Vladimir."

The way she says my name sends a shiver down my spine. I've never been more conflicted in my life.

And then, I push her up with brute strength, until she’s straddling me, and we’re both sitting upright, chest-to-chest, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Again,” she whispers. I force myself to pry my gaze away from her lips.

Sofia's expression shifts, her momentary openness replaced by a steely determination. She leans in closer, her breath hot against my ear. "I want to learn about power play," she demands, her voice low and unyielding.

I freeze, caught off guard by her directness. "Power play?"

She pulls back, green eyes locking onto mine. "Yes. If I'm going to survive in this world, I need to understand all aspects of control and manipulation."

I release her abruptly, forcing Sofia to readjust her position. She's still in my lap, and the proximity is maddening. "It's not a game, Sofia," I warn, my tone grave. "Power can corrupt, destroy."

"I'm not naive," she retorts, her words laced with that familiar icy sarcasm. "I've seen what power does. That's why I need to master it."

I study her face, searching for any sign of hesitation. There is none. Just fierce determination and a hint of something else—vulnerability, perhaps? It's gone before I can be sure.

"Fine," I concede, my voice gruff. "But we do this my way. Slowly. Carefully."

A triumphant smirk plays at the corners of her mouth. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

As Sofia climbs off me and extends a hand to help me up, I'm struck by the realization that I've severely underestimated her. She's not just a damsel in need of protection. She's a force to be reckoned with, raw potential waiting to be harnessed.

"Same time tomorrow?" she asks, gathering her things.

I nod, unable to tear my gaze away from her. "Be ready. It only gets harder from here."

Sofia pauses at the door, throwing a glance over her shoulder. "I'm counting on it," she says, her voice a mix of challenge and promise.

As I watch her leave, I know one thing for certain—life with Sofia Orlov will never be dull.

Chapter 12 - Sofia

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