Page 43 of Captive Vows
Taking what I wanted.
I never asked.
I didn’t beg.
Playing games was a waste of time, too.
But with Gabriella, I was suckered into a spiral of need so intense that I nearly lost sight of why I wanted to resist her. She felt too good. She tasted so fucking fine.
From one kiss, she’d reduced me to a needy, desperate man.
And that transfer of power wasn’t something I could handle. Not with her. Not when I still felt too torn and undecided about how she could actually stay in my life or fit as my woman.
Even though she kissed me back, I noticed her inexperience. While she was eager to push against me and mutually seek out that friction of rubbing her body with mine, she lacked the finesse and confidence of how to go about it like a real woman.
Because she’s a virgin.
I had to remind myself of that single fact. When she uttered my name, so needy and breathlessly, it tore me out of the sensual haze of kissing her and holding her. That broke the spell, and with that clarity, I had to remember her value.
She was a virgin.
If I took her, I wouldn’t get as much for her if I sold her to another. That was the only thing that forced me to walk away and not take her for myself.
Yet, today, as I headed out to lunch with a few men, she was on my mind. I couldn’t stop dwelling and obsessing about whether I would be able to give her up now.
After a fucking kiss, I was stuck on her.
How the hell could I sell her or dispose of her now with only that sample to sate my curiosity?
“Uncle?” Ivan glanced at me from across the table.
“Yeah.” I shook my head, wishing that would clear my distracting thoughts of Gabriella from my mind as well. I didn’t need to glance around at my two nephews and son to see that they’d noticed how distant I seemed. I had to get my head in the game and stop thinking about her.
“We got a call from the house,” Ivan said, arching one brow. “Someone tried to corner Gabriella near the kitchen.”
I swore, pissed that these new recruits were all a risk like that. New blood was necessary. Men died. Soldiers and guards were lost. But for fuck’s sake, wasn’t any new man on the staff loyal anymore? We rooted out the moles and threats. I personally double-checked the men in the house. But some slipped through.
“Allen said the situation is handled.” He cleared his throat. “She, uh, punched one.”
Emil chuckled darkly. Alexsei rolled his eyes.
“But he had to shoot another.”
I furrowed my brow, hating that time was running out until this meeting would begin. Behind them, the people we were here to speak with entered the restaurant. “Is she all right?”
“Shaken,” Ivan said, “but seeming to handle it. She’s in her studio.”
I nodded, expecting her to retreat to her “domain”. That studio was her place, her sanctuary, and I was glad I could provide it to her while she acclimated to the Mafia life in my home. For now.
Fuck. Why can’t I make up my mind about her?
All through the meeting, my thoughts wandered. I stayed on task and appeared to be fully engaged with the discussion. But I was distracted. Veering back to thinking about her and wondering if she was okay from this latest scare, I debated how I could go forward.
Sell her.
Or keep her.
Resist her.
