Page 19 of Forced Prisoner By the Bratva

Without hesitation, I grabbed the door handle, opened it, and stepped into my bedroom. I stopped in my tracks, hands in my pocket as I gazed at my wife perched on the couch.

She sat in silence, her legs pulled up in front of her with her arms around them. Her dark hair was still moist, indicating that she'd taken a shower not long ago. She lifted her head and looked in my direction, her eyes widening slightly.

I could sense her nervousness and could almost hear the sound of her heart pounding in her heaving chest. She tore her gaze off me, her eyes dropping to the floor.

Amused, my expression softened as I strolled into the room, watching her fingers tremble slightly. She clenched her jaw and steadied her breath, as if summoning the courage to speak to me.

Curiosity flickered in my gaze as she rose to her feet, her nightgown draping off her petite frame. One strap, a fragile thread of fabric, effortlessly slid off her shoulder, revealing ateasing glimpse of her gentle swell. Her skin simmered under the chandelier's warm glow, and the gown's transparency caught my eyes, hinting at the secrets underneath.

Everything about her seemed to be calling out to me: her lips—full and enticing—her soft skin, the glimpse of her breast, and the curvature beneath her dress.

She stood in front of me, her eyes struggling to hold my gaze while mine discreetly roamed her body. Tessa noticed my secret assessment of her slender form, and with a slow, deliberate motion, she adjusted the fallen strap of her gown.

My attention drifted from her bosom to her face, my eyes locking onto hers. She rubbed her sweaty palms over her dress, subtly shuddering as she maintained eye contact.

Her throat wobbled, and she swallowed. “Do we have to sleep in the same room?” she asked, looking away for a fleeting moment. Her tone was laced with irritation, a hint of unease creeping underneath.

I arched my brows, taking a few steps closer, my movement slow and steady. Her gaze dropped to the floor, and her chest slowly rose and fell. The sweet fragrance of her perfume filled the air around her, blended with the scent of shampoo and conditioner.

“And why would we do that?” I asked, my voice low and smooth, eyes pinned on her. “Did you forget our deal?” I leaned forward, my breath brushing against her ear. “You're my wife in every way…in every sense of the word.”

My lips curled into a sly grin as I pulled away to observe her expression. Her eyes were blinking fast, and her breath lodged in her throat as she struggled to mask her nervousness.

I continued, my gaze fixed on the anxiety flickering in hers. “You'll sleep in the same room as me, we'll share the same bed, and you, my dear wife—” I extended my hand, brushing theback of my palm over her shoulder, her skin soft and smooth beneath mine, “— will play your role in public…and in private.”

She swallowed hard, her body trembling at my touch, her chest rising and falling. Tessa looked up at my face, her voice dropping to a faint whisper. “Do I have to?”

Where did all that spunk go? Where was that fire I used to see in her eyes?

Without a word, I drew closer, holding her gaze. I watched her retreat slowly. Tension hovered in the air, and it was as though my presence was suffocating her. She pursed her lips, her eyes constantly blinking, exposing her unease. Tessa was a nervous wreck.

Her back hit against the wall, and a soft gasp escaped her lips. I towered over her petite frame; her head jerked upward to look into my face. She steeled herself, her body stiffening and her breathing uneven.

My eyes traversed her body, drinking in the sexy and alluring sight in front of me. She shuddered subtly, her chest heaving with slow breaths. My gaze returned to her face and lingered long enough to watch a faint pink hue appear on her cheeks.

“Why are you so tense?” I asked, curiosity seeping into my tone. “If I didn't know better, I'd think you're afraid. Why is that?” My voice was calm and collected, my eyes never leaving hers.

Again, she blinked a few times before looking away, her gaze dropping to the floor. I could sense her anxiety, her unease, but that only fueled my curiosity.

After a moment of hesitation, she finally spoke without looking in my direction. “Because I haven't been with a man before.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, laced with embarrassment.

The revelation ignited a flicker of something dark and possessive within me. And the fact that she was untouched filled me with a sense of pride.

I kept my grin slow and deliberate. “I thought so,” I murmured, pulling away from her. “Get some rest. You'll need it.”

She raised her head, her eyes squinting as she kept that puzzled look on her face. Tessa was shocked by my sudden withdrawal, and she couldn't even hide it.

Being unpredictable and doing the unexpected was an efficient way to keep people on their toes. She couldn't read me and couldn't tell my next move.

I turned my back on her, my fingers unbuttoning my shirt. “And for the record, I wasn't going to do anything tonight. Not when you're shaking like a leaf,” I added without looking at her. “But don't think that I'll always keep myself away.” My lips curled into a smirk as I glanced over my shoulder.

She heaved a soft sigh and swallowed hard before returning to the couch, where she lay down.

The fact that she was a virgin—soft, flushed, and untouched—only made things even more interesting. Sooner or later, she'd submit to me. She'd surrender, and I'd take her innocence.

My faint grin widened at the thought of breaking her. She was my wife now, and I would take what was rightfully mine—her pride.

Chapter 9 – Tessa

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