Page 46 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
At this rate, it was only a matter of time before it happened, and deep down, I couldn’t wait to explore that great body of his.
Chapter 22 —Lev
Ravyn had been on my mind all day, living rent-free in my head. All through the meeting at the underground casino downtown, I could barely remain focused. The Bratva elites were gathered there tonight in response to the recent shootings that nearly claimed my life and that of my wife.
I should’ve paid rapt attention to their deliberations and suggestions. But I couldn’t. In my defense, they weren’t saying anything I didn’t already know. The attack must have been an inside job, but so far, nobody had been found as the culprit.
So while the men discussed redundant matters, I let myself drift off into a fantasy world. I replayed the scene from last night over and over in my head, imagining the different ways the night could’ve ended if she hadn’t walked out of the study when she did.
I guess her actions made us even, considering that she actually only tore a page from my own book. The other night, during our heated argument after dinner with my family, I was the one who walked away just before things could get sexual.
The tension was thick in the air, and I felt it—she did too. Yet, I walked away despite how badly I wanted her. I saw the signs that the sexual arousal could’ve been mutual—the look in her eyes, her jagged breaths, and the subtle movement of her thighs against each other.
I still ignored all of that and decided to leave with my dignity and pride intact. I didn’t realize how much it hurt until she walked out on me last night. I wasn’t sure whether she did that on purpose to get back at me, or if she simply wanted to let me get some rest.
Whatever the case, I hated the feeling that followed. I felt rejected—unwanted—even though I knew that wasn’t the case. I’d caught her stealing subtle glances at my body, and I didn’tneed to be a psychic to guess the kinds of thoughts running through her mind at the time.
She wanted me as much as I wanted her. But neither of us was willing to make the first move. This game of hide-and-seek was honestly starting to get out of hand. At this point, I wasn’t sure how long I’d be able to refrain from claiming what was mine.
Ravyn belonged to me, and with all I’d observed, she wouldn’t mind me exploring her body. Hell, she might even be craving this more than I thought. So why waste any more time? Why torture both of us, seeing that we were down for the action?
As ruthless as I was, though, I’d never take a woman by force. I had to be a hundred percent sure that she was in on it. It was always better when the feeling was mutual and the lady gave her consent.
I didn’t want to admit it at first, but the truth was that I was afraid. I was afraid of being rejected. Despite all the signs she’d shown me, I still wasn’t certain of what her reaction would be if I tried to claim her. The mere thought of her rejection made my skin crawl, and I wasn’t sure if I’d ever recover from that should it happen.
It was strange how Ravyn’s consent mattered a lot to me. I couldn’t even imagine touching her without her permission; that was how much she’d dug into my soul. There was always Vivian I could call, and she wouldn’t hesitate to show up and do as I pleased.
But I didn’t want Vivian. I didn’t want any other woman. I wanted her. Ravyn. My wife.
At first, I thought my feelings for her were just a passing infatuation that would fade over time. But I was mistaken because the longer I waited, the stronger the feeling became. I was starting to lose my peace—always horny and desperately craving her presence.
Perhaps I was getting obsessed with her. But how was that even possible when I hadn’t touched her yet? I hadn’t tasted and explored her body, so why was I obsessed with her?
All through the drive home, I was hard as a rock, unable to focus on anything but her. Perhaps it was time to face my fears and make the first move, finally. The worst thing that could happen was that she’d pull away. Best case scenario, she wouldn’t—instead, she’d give in and surrender completely to me.
If this were a battle with a rival gang, I wouldn’t hesitate to launch a coordinated attack on the enemy. However, for some reason, I’d suddenly grown a conscience when it came to claiming my woman.
I used to think that I was fearless—that I feared nothing and no one. But clearly, that wasn’t entirely true. The one thing I was afraid of was Ravyn’s rejection, and that fear was responsible for my sexual frustrations.
Well, I was about to put an end to that tonight. I was ready to damn the consequences and face my fears. I still wasn’t sure what I’d do if she rejected me, but I was willing to take the risk.
I pulled over outside the penthouse, parked my car, and stepped out into the moonlit night. I walked past the guards at their stations and headed into the house. On the outside, I seemed calm and collected as usual, but on the inside, a storm of emotions was brewing.
My heart was racing in my chest, my palms were sweaty, and my pulse had spiked. Honestly, I hated how much of an effect this twenty-one-year-old girl was having on me. I felt like a high school kid on his way to confess his love to his crush.
Absolutely stupid.
I opened the bedroom door, but when I walked inside, she was nowhere to be found. I checked the bathroom, but shewasn’t there either. My fingers loosened the tie around my neck as I took it off and shed my jacket.
With the top three buttons of my shirt undone, I stepped out of the room to check my study. However, she wasn’t there either. It wasn’t until I asked one of the passing maids in the hallway that she directed me to the library.
“She’s been in there for the past hour or so,” the maid said to me.
I gave a small nod and walked toward the library, my heart beating faster the closer I drew to the door. When I walked inside, my eyes squinted at the chandelier’s soft light, its amber glow painting the room in gold.
Unaware of my presence, she sat curled up in one of the deep armchairs, a book open in her lap. Her posture was graceful, her toned legs crossed—one over the other. Her honey-blonde hair caught the light as her chest rose and fell with slow, steady breaths.
A silk cream-colored nightie draped over her figure, its hem brushing against her alluring thighs. One loose strap slipped carelessly down her shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of the skin above her breasts. Her posture hinted more than it exposed.
