Page 42 of Pregnant Bratva Possession

One glance at his jean pants showed he was affected as much as I was. He opened his mouth and closed it again. Then, he turned around and crossed his legs over his bike.

“The sooner you get on, the better,” he said.

I bit down on my lips to stifle a growing grin. “What if I don't want to?”

He fastened a death grip on the hand clutch and stared ahead. “Mariana. I didn't come for …that.” His words sounded strangled.

His thread of restraint was slowly slipping, and I wanted it to. Reluctantly, I climbed on and wrapped my arms around his torso. He revved the engine and we hit the road.

The wind ruffled our hair as we sped through the expressway and past urbanization. He took me sightseeing and we made a few stops for food—after I begged him to feed the hungry passenger—me.

About an hour later, he rode through a lonely road and parked the bike by an abandoned building hidden behind tall grasses and a canopy of trees. He got off, and I followed him.

He was breathing hard, and looked disturbed. I parted my lips, about to ask if he was okay, when he covered the distance between us, trapping me between his chest and the bike.

My breath caught in my throat.

He searched my eyes. I knew what he was looking for. “Did you…”

I nodded. The tingles, zap, and spreading heat were back again. Even more fiercely. I found it hard to breathe. “I had fun.”

“Good.” He glanced at my lips.

Oh, God.

It was wrong.Verywrong. But I couldn’t stop myself. I couldn’t hold back the emotions that thrashed around in a cage, begging to be let free.

I wound my arms around his neck and his head dipped lower. For a split second, we shared the thin air that passed through the space between us. Then, he closed his eyes and pressed his lips against mine.

I wished we could stay this way forever.

Chapter 16 - Vlad

I’d done the craziest things. Like cutting a man’s tongue off and tossing it to his fucking dog while he watched. Or one time when I shot someone in the dick after losing a bet to the cheating asshole. But none of those measured to the craziness of this moment. This hour, under the dark starless sky, in an empty parking space, as I leaned on my car with a hand in my pocket.

Waiting. Waiting to seeher.

A cool rush of wind ruffled my hair and the tips brushed my ear. I drew out a lighter and lit the cigarette between my lips. The end glowed red and nicotine flowed through my blood. I exhaled; a cloud of white smoke forming in the air.

I shut my eyes and threw my head backwards. The tension in my shoulders loosened up. Just a bit.

“Hey, wipe that frown off your face...”

My eyes snapped open and towards the building where the nasal voice came from. A short, buxom blonde stood by the entrance, with a cheeky grin, and her arms flailing in the air. She was talking to someone standing at the end of the glass doors.

“...they don’t deserve you, and you deserve better...” she was saying. “Give me that smile of yours. There, now that’s better. I’ll stop by tomorrow. What? Okay. Sure thing, hon. Good night, Mariana.”

Instinctively, my spine stiffened and I stood straight, taking my forearm off the car. The mere mention of her name sent alert signals straight to my brain and heat to my groin. The woman leaned in for a hug and turned around; the heels of her black boots clicking against the concrete, the echoes growing faint until cold silence settled again.

She was the last customer to leave. I should have known; I’d stayed there for the past hour watching the gallery like a fucking stalker.

From the doors, her shadow spun and disappeared inside. Time to move.

I plucked the cigarette from my lips and aimlessly tossed it to the curb. I dusted my fingers and marched forward, shoulders stiff, jaw tensed, and with every voice in my head screaming, “This is fucking crazy, Vlad.”

I ignored it. Just like I’d done from the minute I’d gotten into the car with the determination to drive to the gallery. To see her. She plagued me, like some fucking widespread epidemic you couldn’t escape—haunting every waking thought, dream... I couldn’t get her out of my mind. And the restlessness grew until it became a fucking itch.

My shoes clicked on the gleaming tiles as I entered inside. The lights were bright and the chic black and white mosaic portraits hanging on the wall glared at me. The place, all of it smelled like flowers. Like she did sometimes. I twisted my head to the side and my legs followed. Past a pillar, a few flower pots with blooming white orchids by the walls, another pillar, and...

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