Page 12 of Marked & Bred By the Bratva
“Lev.”
Wow. Hot, grumpy neighbor guy has a name.
He walks to the door, opens it, and turns to look back at me.
“You keep your doors locked?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Good girl.”
It’s low. Rough. Almost an afterthought.
But it detonates in my body like he licked the words right onto my skin.
I feel my nipples tighten under the hoodie. My thighs clench.
By the time I remember how to breathe, he’s already gone.
* * *
I shut the door behind him like I’m not seconds away from throwing myself against it and begging him to say that again.
I walk back to my room on unsteady legs.
Then I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. I look wide-eyed, like I just got off.
Which is insane. Because than man didn’t even touch me.
But my panties are damp and my pulse is still tap-dancing and all he did was say… I swallow hard.
Good girl.
God help me.
Eight
Lev
I shut the door behind me and wait.
Thirty seconds. A full minute.
Then, I press my ear to the wall and listen.
She’s moving. Shuffling around. Her heartbeat’s still racing. I can hear it in the way she breathes. Shaky. Too fast.
She liked that.
She liked me.
Not just the way I helped, fixed her sink. Not just the muscles, the voice or the way I filled her tiny doorway. She liked the control. The safety. The attention.
When I said good girl, her pupils blew wide.
Ava doesn’t even realize it, but she’s begging to be claimed.
I shove my hand down my pants and jerk myself once, hard, then stop. Not yet. Not here.
