Page 3 of Kidnapped & Bred By The BRATVA
My brothers shift beside me. They know something is happening here.
Heat surges through me, a feral fire that sears my chest and races down to my gut. I can smell her fear, taste it on the air, and underneath it, I sense something else. Something that makes my fists clench and my cock harden all at once.
She doesn’t want this wedding. She doesn’t want him. She’s mine.
She stumbles, just slightly, when our gazes lock. Her lips part as though she feels it too, the inevitable truth of what’s about to happen. Her father’s hand presses at her back, pushing her forward, but she doesn’t look at him. She looks at me.
That’s all the permission I need.
I stride into the aisle. The music falters, the organ notes souring. Gasps fill the church. My cousin’s face drains of color. He knows better than to challenge me.
Heads turn. Whispers ripple. But I don’t hear them. My world narrows to her alone.
I don’t break stride.
When I reach her, I bend, wrap an arm behind her thighs, and heft her over my shoulder. Her veil flutters down her back, her gasp is muffled against me as I straighten.
She kicks once, but it’s weak, more instinct than resistance. My hand tightens around the backs of her thighs, fingers digging into silk and the flesh of her ass.Mine. My cock aches with the knowledge of it.
The crowd erupts. Her father’s voice bellows my name, a curse, a threat. I don’t turn. My brothers rise as one, their movements sharp, precise. Maksim, Nikolai, Mikhail, and Aleksei fall in step behind me, their presence a wall of iron at my back. Anyone who thinks of intervening swallows the urge when they see the five of us together.
We are the Vasiliev brothers. We take what we want.
The church doors slam open, sunlight slicing across us as we descend the steps. The engine of the waiting car rumbles like a beast ready to run.
“Put her down!” her father’s voice follows, raw with desperation. “Do you know what you’re doing? Do you know who she is?”
I don’t answer. He knows exactly what I’m doing. Everyone does.
I claimed her.
The car door swings open and I shove her inside, not roughly but firmly, placing her on the leather seats like she belongs there. She scrambles upright, her veil half torn, her cheeks flushed. I slide in beside her, shutting out the noise, the fury, the world.
For a moment, it’s just us. Then my feral brothers climb into the car with their looks of resignation.
Her scent hits me hard. Sweet, nervous, something floral beneath the sharp tang of fear. It drives me mad. My blood pumps hot, my body rigid with the need to touch her, taste her, claim every inch of her soft skin.
Not yet.
I force myself to breathe as the car lurches forward, speeding away from the church, the guests, the father who traded her for an alliance with my uncle.
She sits pressed against the door, gown bunched in her fists, chest heaving. Every tremble of her lip makes me want to kiss her until she forgets her own name.
She glances at me once, then again, like she can’t help herself. Her eyes are the clearest gray I’ve ever seen, storm clouds just before they break. There’s fear there, yes, but there’s something else too. Curiosity. Heat. The same spark that lit me on fire when I first saw her.
“Where—where are you taking me?” she whispers.
My voice comes out low, rough, the sound of iron dragged across stone. “Home.”
Her lips part, but she doesn’t argue. She doesn’t beg me to stop, doesn’t demand to be taken back. The pulse at her throat flutters like a trapped bird, but her body leans ever so slightly toward me, as though she’s fighting her own instincts and losing.
I shift closer, filling her space. The car hums, my brothers’ low voices a distant murmur from the front. My focus is on her alone.
Her dress has slipped, exposing the delicate curve of her shoulder. Pale skin, soft and untouched. My fingers twitch. I want to sink my teeth there, mark her, let the world know she’s no one’s but mine.
Patience.
It’s a foreign word to me, and something I’ve never been good at. But for her, for this, I’ll hold back until she tilts her head, until she offers herself.
