Page 54 of Shattered Altar (Makarova Bratva Duet)

ALEKS

Her eyes flare with admission, but I can already see her lips forming the lie. “That… that’s not true…”

“No?” I ask, stroking the back of my fingers against her cheek.

She trembles. Behind all the fear, her pupils are dilated. Her nipples are hard. I know beyond the shred of a doubt that, if I dip my hand into her panties, I’ll find she’s wet for me.

“Your body gives you away, Olivia.”

“I don’t want you.”

“Say it again,” I taunt her. “Say it like you mean it.”

Her eyes go wide, desperate. She tries to push me off her, but I’ve got my chest pressed tight against hers. I can feel the soft peaks of her breasts. My cock stiffens.

I imagine the way she looked pressed up against that bathroom sink, her nipples bare, her pussy exposed. That intense, ravenous expression in her eyes.

She was scared then, just like she is now, but this time, the stakes are higher. This time, there’s shame attached to every dirty thought she’s had about me since the moment I ruined her life.

I’m perfectly fine with that. Shame never bothered me much.

“Do you make a habit of seducing unsuspecting women?” she asks.

“Only when I have a reason to.”

“What reason did you have for seducing Isabella?”

“Now I’ve seduced her and kidnapped her?” I shake my head, exhaling impatiently. “For fuck’s sake, the Lawrence family does not know how to listen. Your brother has it all wrong.”

“He wouldn’t have started the investigation without a lead.”

“Facts can be manipulated, Olivia. Lies presented as truth. Not everything you hear is valid.”

“In this case, I think it’s pretty damn valid,” she hisses. “You took me, after all. You wouldn’t have done that without good reason. I want to know why you did it to her.”

“Why don’t you tell me?” I suggest. “Let’s hear your conspiracy theories.”

“Maybe she saw something she shouldn’t have,” she says, guessing wildly. “Maybe she was important to an enemy of yours and you wanted revenge. Maybe she was just beautiful and you decided you wanted her, even if she said no.”

I raise my eyebrows. “You think I’m a rapist?”

“You said you’d committed heinous crimes. Am I supposed to know that you have favorites?”

I tighten my grip on her and her breathing hitches. “If there’s only one thing you choose to believe about me, believe this: I am no fucking rapist. I don’t have to take what isn’t given to me. By the time I’m done with a woman, she comes willingly. God knows you did. Several times.”

Her expression twists into darkness. “You bastard.”

I press my nose to the nape of her neck and trace a line up to her cheek. She smells like cotton and butter. Homely, warm scents that bring to mind fireplaces in winter, blue oceans in summer. Nothing like the women I’m used to.

“You like that about me, don’t you?” I murmur in her ear.

I release her, but I make sure to keep my hands on either side of the wall, trapping her between them. I’m not touching her anymore and my cock is already irritated with me for that sad little fact.

“Like what?”

“You like that I’m a bastard,” I say. “You like that I’m dangerous. You like that you have so, so much to lose with me.”

“That’s—”

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