Page 16 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

I snort laughter. She thinks I am going to answer that.

She runs her hand over her thighs, rubbing her legs. “I think I hurt my leg earlier.” She runs her hands slowly up and down, drawing my attention to her body.

I clench my jaw. I know what she is doing.

When she sees me watching, she tilts her head back and pushes her chest out, lifting her arms and running her fingers through her hair, brushing it up into a high pony, twisting it and showing off her long slender neck.

She is moving slowly, seductively, using her body as a distraction.

“You’re really strong.” The corner of her mouth curls into a mischievous grin. She twirls her hair and pulls it over one shoulder, playing with the blonde curls. “I was surprised at how easily you carried me inside here.”

“Is that so?” I say, sarcastic and unamused. I will not fall for this tactic. I am not so blind and desperate that she can use her body to negotiate with me.

“We can talk about this—and maybe you can let me go. I doubt you want the hassle of having to deal with me anyway. I’m sure there areotherways to get you whatever it is you want,” she purrs.

“It’s not going to work, Ruslana.” I pull my mouth tight, my eyes tracing up and down her gorgeous figure, blatantly looking at her and indicating that I know exactly what she is trying to do.

She notices my disinterest and immediately her body language shifts.

She is clearly annoyed that it didn’t work. She huffs loudly and folds her hands across her chest.

I’m annoyedthat I couldn’t pull my eyes off her while she was being so blatantly flirtatious.

My body responds to her even when my mind is fully aware that her seduction is a tactic.

“Ruslana—“

“Just let me go!” she screams suddenly. Enraged that she couldn’t trap me with her cunning plan. “I demand that you let me go right now. Who the hell do you think you are? I am a Kuznetsov. No one treats me like this." She stands up on the bed, glaring down at me with a ferocious look in her eyes.

My body ignites with desire. Her temper turning me on ten times more than her fake seduction. Because this is real. This is raw and nothing about this is fake.

I move closer to her—picturing myself grabbing her and pinning her, face down on the bed. Spreading her legs and taking her from behind.

“Stop this immediately,” I snarl at myself, not even talking to her. I don’t want to think about her like that. I would never do that to a woman. I would never be with someone who was not willing.

How the fuck is she even making me consider that?

“I will get away. I won’t stop trying. You can do whatever the hell you want to try and keep me here, but I will escape!” she shouts with determination.

This is enough. I’ve let her get away with this outburst for too long.

She is making me behave in ways that arenotnormal for me. I amnotthat person.

I reach across the bed and she tries to dodge me, but I’m faster, and stronger. I grab her leg and tug her towards me. She loses her balance and lands on her butt on the bed. As I drag her in my direction, her skirt pulls up over her hips.

I clench my jaw. Don’t even look. Don’t even think about it.

I grab her wrist, my body exploding with desire.

She is right at the edge of the bed and fighting hard again.

I have to use my body to hold her down, feeling her rock and twist beneath me, her skirt still high on her hips, her thin, beautiful lace panties not hiding anything. I can smell her skin.

Like fields of wild jasmine and dark, musk roses. It seeps into my pores and my insides are melting, begging, pleading me to take her.

I have to put an end to this—now.

It’s already gone too far.

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