Page 13 of Used By the Merciless Bratva
“Don’t mind me. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he implored, his right hand cupping the side of my face. “I like your free spirit. And you’re very pretty.”
His lips claimed mine again before I could speak. Not that I had anything to say.
His right hand moved to my neck while the other grabbed my hips, pulling me closer to his body. I couldn’t hold back a moan when his fingers traced the side of my breast through my satin top. His tongue dove into my mouth, exploring and tantalizing.
I brought my hands around his neck, urging him impossibly closer. He rubbed his lower body against my stomach, giving me an unmissable feel of his erection.
My top went over my head before I could register his hands doing it. My hands went downward to the zipper of his jeans. His hand came over mine as I pulled his zipper down.
“I want to,” I told him, my gaze on the floor.
“Let me do it first,” he said, dropping a quick kiss to my lips.
I nodded in agreement, earning a slow smile from him.
His lips latched onto the nape of my neck, making me draw in a breath. He undid the buttons on my denim skirt before easing me onto the bed.
Pulling my skirt up, he rubbed me through my moist panties, making me gasp in shock and pleasure.
Just as his fingers hooked around both sides of my panties, I looked up, and my eyes landed on a lens. My body went rigid as alarms rang in my head.
“Is that a camera?” I questioned, hoping I was wrong.
“Um, well…” he started, kneeling up as my upper body jerked off the bed.
“You…you were…filming me?”
The idea filled me with a fairly equal mix of shock, fear, anger, and shame.
He came to sit at the edge of the bed as I picked my top up.
“It’s not that serious, Kat. Now that you know, you could make some money out of it,” he remarked as I put on my top and buttoned my skirt up.
“Are you insane?” I asked, practically yelling. “You filmed me without my knowledge. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”
“Okay, I’m sorry. I….” He shook his head, “I didn’t intend to hurt you. Others are always cool with it when I tell them it’s anonymously shared. Some even agree to make more videos, and we split the money.”
“To think I was about to give myself to a guy I thought liked me,” I uttered, my voice low, before turning around and heading toward the door.
He followed me.
“Kat, I really do like you, okay? I’m sorry. We don’t have to do anything anymore. Let’s just see a movie or something,” he jabbered.
“Fuck you,” I spat as I marched down the hallway, unable to hold in the tears.
Thanks to Mom, who always insisted I take some cash with me whenever I stepped out of the house, I got into a cab once I came out of Alex’s apartment building.
As the cab pulled over, my phone vibrated. I saw a text notification.
The text read:
“I deleted the video. I’m sorry. Can I see you tomorrow? To talk.”
The review segment on the e-hailing app must be the only reason the cab driver didn’t curse when I slammed the back door.
The fear and anger of being watched washed over me. I found myself praying to the powers that be that I wasn’t the one they wanted as I went to sit at the edge of the bed. I desperately hoped I wouldn’t have to spend the night in this luxurious prison. Or that someone would walk in to give me a much-needed explanation for my being here, at least.
Suddenly, I heard the sound of footsteps from the other side of the door. I moved away from the door as the lock clicked.
