Page 50 of Kidnapped Prisoner By the Bratva
“I curse the day our paths crossed because ever since you walked into my life, everything sucks!” she yelled in my face.
Wren let out a frustrated groan and began pacing back and forth. She was complaining bitterly about how she’d had to survive an attempt on her life twice and how I was the cause of all her misfortune.
I rose to my feet, struggling to hold back my anger. “You think this is easy for me?” My voice was higher than I intended for it to be.
She paused, watching me, a bit shocked by my response.
I continued, “Hating me is one thing. Being in danger because of me…that’s an entirely different thing altogether.” I drew closer. “I might be a monster, Wren, but I do not enjoy watching you suffer.”
Her chest heaved subtly, anger still flashing in her eyes as she backed away.
“Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to protect you.”
“This is where you always miss the point, Val.” She pushed against my chest. “I wouldn’t need protection if it wasn’t for you!”
“What do you want me to say, that I’m sorry?!” I snapped, losing my temper, my hands gripping her shoulders. “Well, newsflash, I’m not.”
She flinched at the sound of my voice and the firmness of my hold. Not too tight. Not too loose. Just enough to hold her in place.
“I am not sorry that our paths crossed. I am not sorry that you belong to me.”
She shook her head, seething with blazing eyes. “I don’t belong to you!” she shot back, knocking my hands off her shoulders. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some piece of property that you own.”
I grabbed her wrist as she turned around to walk away. “Where do you think you’re going?” I pulled her to myself.
“Let go of me!” She shoved me back.
I lifted her in the air and pressed her back against the wall. Not out of cruelty. But to stop her from spiraling. Shocked by how quickly she was at my mercy, her lips parted, but no words came forth.
I raised both her hands above her head, trapped them beneath mine, and leaned in. She stared into my eyes but didn’t struggle; she just stood there in silence, seething. I placed a finger on her mouth, her skin soft beneath my touch.
Seconds later, all that anger began fading gradually, replaced by a kind of stillness that revealed the hunger we’d both been hiding. Her breath was warm against my face, her eyes boring into mine.
“Rage is like a wildfire, Wren,” I whispered. “It can consume you if not controlled.” My gaze dropped to the skin above her enticing breasts, smooth and glistening.
She didn’t respond, just stared at me.
Her chest was rising and falling.
Not from anger.
No.
From something else.
Something darker.
Desire, perhaps.
I noticed the hardness of her nipples from behind the fabric of the oversized T-shirt that hung loosely over her body.
My eyes dipped, and my cock swelled in my pants at the sight of her alluring thighs. Heat spread across my body, and Icould almost swear that I heard the sound of her racing heart. I looked up at her face, and beneath the anger was a glimpse of yearning.
Our eyes locked, the sexual tension building between us with each passing second. Her breathing was erratic, hinting at the longing she was trying so hard to mask.
Kiss her,a voice whispered in my head.
What if she didn’t kiss me back? What if she pushed me away?
