Page 34 of An Arranged Virgin for the Bratva

She stares me right in the eye, puckering her lips around her straw, sucking hard. A groan escapes me.

And she fuckingsmiles, looking pleased as hell. "And where might those places be, Vlad? Should I be afraid?" Her voice is laced with a teasing edge that ignites something primal in me.

My hand twitches with the urge to touch her, but I clench it into a fist against the bar. I find it hard to use words, to think, to remain calm.

Oh, she has me wrapped around her finger, alright.

Sofia leans closer now, her hand on my thigh, slowly inching up. “Or better yet, perhaps you should show me—if you can think you can handle it.”

I can't take it anymore. The tension, her proximity, the challenge in her eyes—it's all too much. Without thinking, I grab her wrist, my large hand easily encircling it. "Come with me," I growl, my voice rough with desire.

I don't wait for her response, pulling her through the crowded bar. My eyes scan for a secluded spot, finally landing on a door marked 'Storage' in the back corner.

I push the door open and pull her inside, slamming it shut with one hand which now rests against the door, cornering her in, while I still hold her wrist with my other.

The storage room is dimly lit, shelves stacked with liquor bottles casting long shadows. The air is thick with the scent of alcohol and dust. I release Sofia's wrist, turning to face her in the confined space. Sofia's eyes gleam in the low light, and I see her chest heave, her eyes darting between mine.

We both watch each other, the tension seeping off our skin, the desire evident in my smoldering gaze and her flushed cheeks.

"And now?" she whispers, her gaze locked on mine. "What happens now, Vladimir?"

I struggle to catch my breath. A nagging thought intrudes, souring the sweetness of the moment. My eyes narrow as I study Sofia's yearning face, her parted lips.

“I don’t fucking know,” I growl. “You tell me,” I begin, unable to hold back the sudden bite of jealousy in my tone. "Is this how you plan to handle all your negotiations? Ending up with strange men in dark corners?"

Sofia's eyes flash, a hint of her usual iciness returning. "What are you implying, Vladimir?"

I hold back a groan, conflicted between a desire and possessiveness I've never felt before. "I'm asking if this is your standard power play, if other men get you into spaces as private as this.”

For a moment, Sofia looks like she might slap me. Then, something in her expression softens. She walks closer and reaches up, her cool fingers tracing my jawline.

"No," she says firmly, her gaze locked on mine. "This isn't a game anymore, Vladimir. I've never… responded like this to anyone else. Only you."

Her words hit me like a physical force, stirring something deep within my chest. I search her face for any hint of deception but find only sincerity in those green eyes.

"Why me?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.

Sofia's lips curve into a small, genuine smile—so different from her usual smirks. "I wish I knew," she admits. "But there's something about you, Vladimir. Something that makes me want to let my guard down. Maybe it’s the simple fact that around you, I don’t feel the need to be someone I’m not."

I can't hold back any longer. My restraint, doubts, fears—everything snaps like a frayed rope, and I reach for her waist and clutch her tight, jerking her toward me.

She looks up at me with wide eyes, surprised, and then breaks into a teasing smile. She grabs my lapel and pulls me closer. “I won, didn’t I?”

Fuck me.I know she’s only teasing. We’re way over the games. I can feel it in the way she responds to me, her body near threading into mine.

And so I do the obvious thing. I slam my lips against her.

The world outside fades away, leaving only us in this dimly lit sanctuary. My hands slide down to her back, feeling the warmth of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress. The silky material only heightens my desire to touch her bare flesh.

"Sofia," I breathe against her lips, unable to form coherent thoughts beyond her name.

To my surprise and delight, Sofia responds with equal fervor. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me closer. So different, so responsive.

The gentle tug sends a shiver down my spine. I press her against the shelf, our bodies molding together as if they were made for each other.

The intensity of our connection catches me off guard. I've kissed women before, but never like this, never with this all-consuming fire that threatens to burn me alive. I can feel Sofia trembling against me, and I wonder if she feels it too—this undeniable bond forming between us.

"Vladimir," she gasps as we break for air. Her green eyes, usually so icy, now burn with a heat that matches my own. "I didn't expect…"

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