Page 57 of Plus-Size Bratva Possession
“Whatever proof they give of their innocence can’t be trusted. Don’t you see that? I already know they did it!”
“No, you think you know!” Her voice rose in frustration. “Has it even occurred to you that you might be wrong? That maybe, just maybe, you've spent years hating the wrong people?”
I clenched my fists tight. “I was there!”
“You were there after, not during! You didn't see who pulled the trigger!”
“I had it investigated—”
“By whom? Your people? People who already hated the Lebedevs? People who would tell you exactly what you wanted to hear?”
Her words struck too close to home, tapping into a doubt I'd buried deep. What if I had been wrong?
No. That was impossible. The evidence had been clear.
“You're just trying to protect your brothers,” I accused.
“And you're just trying to justify what you did to me,” she fired back.
We arrived back at my penthouse in a storm of tension, barely making it through the door before the argument resumed.
“You kidnapped me,” Elena continued, kicking off her heels with enough force to send them flying across the entryway. “You forced me to marry you. You kept me prisoner for weeks. And for what? For revenge against my family for something they might not have even done!”
“I did what I had to do,” I growled, following her into the living room.
She whirled to face me, her eyes blazing. “Would Adriana have wanted this? Would she have wanted you to become the kind of man who takes an innocent woman hostage?”
The question was like a knife, twisting in my gut. “Don't you dare bring her into this.”
“Why not? She's been in the middle of this from the beginning! Your dead fiancée is the reason I'm here!”
The brutal honesty of her words knocked the wind out of me. She was right, and we both knew it.
“What do you want from me, Elena?” I asked, my voice dropping to a dangerous quiet. “An apology for taking you? Absolution? What?”
“I want the truth!” she yelled, stepping closer until we were chest to chest. “I want you to admit that you might be wrong about my family. I want peace. I want—”
I couldn’t take it anymore, unable to hear another word. “I need to not talk about this anymore,” I hissed, my thumbcurling beneath her jaw, one finger on her mouth. “I’m tired of fighting. Of everything.”
She made a whimper, her hands coming up to push against my chest—but only for a moment. Then her fingers were curling into my shirt, tugging me closer as she pulled me into a kiss.
I tensed, just momentarily, the earlier anger still flowing through my mind. But God, this was Elena. No matter how angry, no matter what happened, she could bring me to my knees, and right about now, as her tongue slithered into my mouth, I knew she already owned me.
My hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between us. “Make me,” she hissed against my mouth, then broke apart, looking up at me with the fiercest, brightest eyes I’d ever seen. “Make mestop talking.”
“Yeah, you’d rather scream?” I hissed, my hands lowering to her ass, giving them a gentle squeeze.
I felt her arch into me. “I’d rather scream, roar, moan, but I don’t want to fight anymore either.”
I growled low in my throat and lifted her up. She immediately wrapped her legs around my waist. Her dress rode up her thighs, and I gripped her ass, pulling her against my hardening cock.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” I muttered, kissing down her neck, nipping at the sensitive spot below her ear. “You’re the most maddening, damning woman I know.”
“Good,” she gasped, her head falling back to give me better access. “Now you know how I feel about you.”
We stumbled toward the bedroom, still tangled together, kissing the entire way. Her skin burned into me, and I felt like an animal, a beast, attuned to her every inch.
I kicked the door open and carried her inside, intending to throw her on the bed—but she surprised me at the last moment, pushing into me with force, shoving me back onto the mattress and straddling me in one quick movement.
