Page 26 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
My brows arched, unsure of whether to be pissed or impressed by how she spilled the truth unapologetically. There was no shred of fear in her eyes—only fire—that kind that pulled me in like a moth to a flame.
I glanced at the knife in her hand, my lips curling into a faint smirk. “Some things are meant to be looked at. Not touched.” My voice was smooth but edged with warning.
“Is this the part where you punish me?” she asked, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
“You’ve given me more than one reason to do so.” I drew nearer, closing the distance between us. “You broke into my study, refused to apologize for it, and now you’re holding one of my most deadly weapons.”
A small smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. “What’s the matter? Afraid I’ll use it on you?”
I halted in front of her, watching the quiet defiance in her eyes. I studied her face, searching for signs of fear or terror, but all I found was an unyielding resistance. My jaw locked as she stared back into my eyes, unafraid of what I’d do to her next.
Crazy how I couldn’t read her—how I couldn’t tell what the hell she was up to. I guess the little devil had torn a page from my book. This attempt to confuse was working, and I hated it. But I’d rather not let her see how much her defiance was getting under my skin.
This move tonight was proof that she was a worthy opponent in this game of control—one that I must not underestimate. One thing was clear as day: She was a quick learner, and she was picking up my tactics a lot quicker than I thought.
That could be a problem if not properly handled.
I sensed something unlock inside me—something too complicated to name. Then, without another word, I took the knife from her hand, put it back in the weapons case, and clicked it shut softly.
She stood there, staring at me with a knowing look, as though she’d already calculated the risk of pissing me off and didn’t mind it. The silence stretched between us, and the longer we held each other’s gazes, the more the tension between us rose.
My eyes dropped to her cherry lips, tracing the perfect curve of her mouth. Next was her cleavage, her breasts nestled behind the fabric of her top. I blinked and returned my gaze to her face before anything illicit could form in my head.
I wondered what she was up to, what she was doing in my study at this time of night. What game was she playing here? What was her motive? What did she want to achieve?
These thoughts cluttered my mind, especially because of the way her eyes searched mine as if she was looking for answers to questions she hadn’t asked.
“You look stressed out,” she said, her voice low and almost tender. Almost. “Get some rest.” With that, she stepped away, her footsteps receding as she walked out of the study.
Stunned by what had just happened, I stood there in awe and didn’t look back until I heard the door close behind her. I glanced back with a cocky smirk lining the corners of my mouth.
That little devil wasn’t just stubborn; she was audacious and brave with a daring look in her eyes that sparked something in me. A specific kind of fire that I hadn’t named yet.
I recalled the interest in her gaze when she studied that combat knife. Her fascination with the weapon was a mirror of an intrigue that felt personal.
Before I could get lost in my thoughts, my phone buzzed in my pocket, grounding me in the present. I reached in, pulledmy hand back, and answered the call without checking the screen.
“Hey, handsome,” a familiar feminine voice, sweet and seductive, said on the other line.
My lips twisted into a faint smirk. “Vivian.”
“You busy?” she asked, her tone laced with honey. “’cause I’m not—and I’m feeling naughty tonight.”
I paused, listening to her quiet purrs on the other end, as if she were touching herself.
Vivian was an old lover, one I’d done some really crazy and nasty things to in bed. She was a naughty slut of mine who was ready to do anything, go to any length just to please me.
We fucked when it was convenient for me—when I wanted it, how I wanted it, and where I wanted it. It was always about me and my own selfish desires. Vivian didn’t care about anything other than being the best lover I’d ever have.
She showed up every time I called and did whatever I asked without hesitation. In truth, she was truly the best lover I’d ever been with. Her skills in bed were remarkable, and she’d left a sexual mark on my mind that I was still trying to erase.
“Do you wanna know what I’m wearing—what I’m doing to myself right now?” she whimpered, her breath shaking from sheer pleasure.
I felt my cock twitch at the sound of her moans. But that was it. Just the twitch. While she was busy with herself on the other line, my thoughts kept drifting back to Ravyn—her guts, the familiar look in her eyes, the sight of her cleavage.
Damn.
My cock grew harder in my pants, not because of Vivian’s moans but because of the mere thought of Ravyn.
