Page 20 of Virgin Bratva Hostage

Which can’t be too hard—right?

He’s still sleeping on his back with one arm tucked above his head.

He looks very deep in sleep.

I need to do this now.

I have to ignore the thick being of fear pulsing through me and just go for it. What do I have to lose anyway? Worst case scenario—he wakes up and catches me. So what? It can’t get any worse than being cuffed to a bed.

I wiggle closer to him, the warmth of his skin and the scent of his body distracting me for a moment.

Beneath the blanket, I reach out and run my hand over his very muscular thigh, then up towards his hip, feeling for his pocket. My hand brushes too close to his cock and I freeze for a moment.

He doesn’t move.

I slip my fingers into his pocket and feel around. There is no key in this pocket. Dammit. It would have been too easy. Nothing is ever that easy.

I regather my determination and start again.

Slowly, holding my breath, I reach across his body to the pocket furthest from me. I have to be so careful not to let my weight rest on his body or move too much to wake him up.

I slip my hand into that pocket and slide my fingers slowly around. It feels oddly intimate.

And in his sleep, he is responding to my touch. He might not be consciously aware of me, but his body is. With my arm reached across him, I can feel his cock getting harder.

Dammit, this was not part of my plan.

My cheeks are glowing red and hot, terrified he will wake up.

I’m going to die of embarrassment.

No, stop getting distracted. Find the damn key.

I slide my hand out of the pocket and try to see if I can reach further around into his back pocket. Maybe I can wiggle my hand beneath his body.

I scream when his hand clamps around my wrist.

He growls, low and dark and moves quickly, rolling onto me, pinning me against the mattress with my back pressing into it.

My eyes feel wide with fright, my mouth is open, I’m dizzy with shock.

I am locked down in exactly the same way I was locked beneath Royce yesterday and my heartbeat flies into a panic.

No, focus, don’t cry, don’t freak out.I plead with myself. I’m strong. I can handle anything.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” he snarls at me, his face inches from mine.

My entire body is betraying me as his thick muscles ripple while he holds me down.

My eyes trace over his shadowed jawline and onto his lips. I feel heat building between my legs as desire begins to flood through me. The fear is quickly being replaced with lust.

Then my mind springs into gear.

If I’m feeling it—surely he is too—and I can use that.

I can use it against him.

His eyes are piercing into me when I reach up with my free hand and brush my fingers along his jaw. Then I grab his face, lift my mouth towards his and lock my lips against his. The kiss is fierce and passionate but seductively smooth. I know what I’m doing with this kiss. It feels right. He won’t be able to resist me this time.

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