Page 19 of Watched and Bred By the Bratva
He turns to me, hands loose at his sides now, as if he isn’t the same man who just shattered my world. “I’ll be in the study.”
I blink, caught off guard.
“Go where you like. This house is yours.”
“Anywhere?”
“I have no secrets from you.” His gaze lingers, hard enough that my stomach knots.
Yeah, right. “So you’ll tell me your Bratva business, too?” I can’t resist asking. Because, why not taunt the Bratva boss? After all, everything else I’ve done and accepted is equally crazy.
That earns me a long, level look. The kind that saysyou might not want the answer you think you’re asking for.
Finally, he says with his voice low and certain, “I’ll answer any question you ask. But it might be best if you don’t ask. You may not want to know everything. And I will never lie to you.”
My mouth goes dry. Ooo-kay. I have no quick comeback. Because, hell, he’s right. I probably don’t want to know his business details.
“In the meantime,” he continues, flicking his hand toward the dining room and the gleaming halls beyond, “help yourself. The kitchen is yours, the library, every room. Whatever you want.”
Something feels wrong, like he’s letting me down easy. I blink hard, struggling to read him. Did I do something wrong? Did the shirt, the bath, and the walk mean nothing? Did I disappoint him already? Bore him?
“That’s it?” I shove my pride aside and ask. “You give a girl a screaming orgasm, walk her around your Beauty and the Beast mansion, and then go to your study? Just another day for you? Or maybe I didn’t outshine whatever twisted fantasy you had of me. Now you don’t want me.”
His head snaps, eyes narrowing. Emotions streak across his face too fast for me to decipher.
Then, he storms forward.
He catches my face between his palms, crashing his mouth down on mine in a searing, possessive kiss that leaves me gasping when he rips back just enough to growl against my lips.
“Does it feel like I don’t want you? I want you as much as my next breath. My next morsel of food.” He growls against my mouth. “You are the first ray of sunlight after I’ve endured thedarkest fucking night. So take what you want— a book, a bath, a fucking banana, I don’t care.”
He pulls back an inch, chest heaving as if holding himself back costs him blood. “…and let me pretend to be a gentleman for once in my goddamn life.”
My pulse stutters, my body trembles, and the words spill out of me, barely a whisper.
“What if what I want is you?”
That’s all it takes. His restraint, already cracking, is obliterated.
He lays me flat across that vast bed like I weigh nothing. The canopy looms above but I barely notice it. What devours my attention is his face—every line etched with torment as he braces over me.
“I should let you rest,” he mutters. “Should give you more time. But I can’t. Not when you look at me like that.”
His mouth finds mine, rough and punishing, before softening unexpectedly, tracing instead of tearing. The whiplash makes my head spin. His lips chart every inch: temple, cheekbone, eyelid, throat. A map only he can possess.
“Do you know what you are to me?” he growls between kisses trailing lower, down to my sternum. “Light. Breath. Everything.”
My shirt is stripped over my head. My jeans follow. Peeled with slow violence, tossed aside like they offend him.
I think he’ll take me right then and there, but instead his hands lock around my wrists, pinning them above my head. “Don’t hide,” he orders, dragging his gaze down my body. “Not one inch.”
He kisses all over. The valley between my breasts, the slope of my ribs, the soft spot under my arm that makes me startle. He kisses down the seam of my hip. Then lower still, reverently pressing his lips to the inside of my thigh. It makes me acheworse because he doesn’t rush. He takes his time, telling me without words that he intends to own every piece of me.
When I finally whimper a broken plea, his eyes flash with triumph. “Good girl. Beg me.”
Then his mouth is on me.
He starts slow, tongue dragging through slick heat, then closes over my clit with ruthless suction. My back arches violently, sound tearing from my throat. No hesitation. No mercy. It’s like he was born to destroy me with his mouth.
