Page 58 of Forced plus-size Bride of the Bratva
She lifts her brows. “I guess we’re about to find out.”
Christ. She’s serious.
“Alright,” I say. “Ladies first.”
She smiles. “Truth or dare?”
I lean in. “Truth.”
She doesn’t even hesitate. “What’s the worst thing you’ve ever done?”
My jaw tightens. She starts bold.
I think about lying. Easing her in with something light.
But if I want her to really understand me—what she married—then I should tell her the truth.
“The worst thing I’ve ever done?” I pause. “I once tortured a man for seventeen hours because he hurt someone I cared about. And when he begged me to kill him, I waited another hour before I did.”
It’s not the worst thing I’ve done, but it’s the worst thing I assume she can take. No crime documentaries she’s watched canever prepare her for the evil things I’ve done in my life. I can’t tell her about it. Ever.
Her smile falters, just a little. But she doesn’t look away. “Did he deserve it?”
“Yes,” I say without flinching. “He did.”
She’s quiet for a beat. Then nods. “Your turn.”
I don’t smile. I’m not playing anymore—I’m studying her. Her jaw, her posture, her pulse fluttering in her throat.
“Truth or dare, Jennie?”
She hesitates. Then lifts her chin. “Dare.”
Bold. So fucking bold.
“I dare you….” I pause, letting the silence stretch as her eyes narrow. “To kiss me. Not because you have to. Because you want to.”
She doesn’t move.
But she also doesn’t say no.
She climbs into my lap without a word. Her hands find my shoulders, and for a moment, she just looks at me—like she’s still deciding whether this is the worst idea she’s ever had.
Then she leans in and kisses me.
Soft. Slow. Curious.
But it lights something inside me like a fuse.
I don’t deepen it. I don’t drag her closer or crush my mouth to hers, even though every nerve in my body begs me to. I let her control the kiss. I let her pull away.
She starts to climb off my lap, but I wrap an arm around her waist and hold her there.
“This is a dare,” she says, trying not to smile. “You can’t kiss me for more than a few seconds.”
“That’s okay,” I murmur. “I just want to hold you.”
Her breath catches.
