Page 14 of Obsessed Bratva King

So I do the only thing I can—I stand. A poor attempt at regaining control.

A mistake.

Because standing only brings me into his reach.

His hands find my waist, fingers pressing lightly into the silk, a touch that shouldn’t feel as possessive as it does.

He’s warm. Solid. Unmovable.

I stiffen. "What are you doing?"

"That should be obvious." His voice is lower, roughened with something dangerous. “You’re my pet for the night, remember? You’ll do what you’re told like a good girl, won’t you?”

Then he kisses me. For a moment I let it happen but then I shove him back. Hard. My breath comes fast, uneven. "What the hell are you doing?"

He exhales sharply, something like frustration flickering in his eyes. "Tell me—without lying—that you don’t want me right now. Do it."

My pulse thunders. I should tell him that. I should say the words.

But nothing comes out.

His eyes darken, satisfaction curling at the edges of his lips. "That’s what I thought."

His hand threads through my hair, tilting my head back as his mouth presses against mine again.

This time, I don’t fight it.

His grip tightens, pulling me flush against him, and I let him. I don’t think about what it means, what it says about me.

His hands are rough, gripping, claiming. I fight back. My nails dig into his shoulders, my teeth graze his lower lip in retaliation.

He growls, a sound that vibrates against my mouth. I swallow it whole.

“Told you,” he says. “I knew you wanted me.”

"You’re a bastard," I breathe against his lips. “I hate you.”

"And you’re a liar," he growls, tearing the sheet away.

My world tilts as he backs me toward the bed, shoving me down.

“You’re trembling,” he says.

“I’m not,” I lie again, my voice shaky, betraying me instantly.

He smirks, a knowing smile that sends a shiver down my spine. “Yes, you are. But that’s good. It means you’re alive.”

“I hate you,” I reply.

“No, you hate that you want me.”

I open my mouth to protest, but before I can speak, his hands are on my hips, lifting me effortlessly off the ground. I gasp, my hands instinctively flying to his shoulders for balance. “What are you?—”

“Don’t fight it,” he says, his voice low, commanding. “You’re mine tonight, Cora. And I’m going to make sure you never forget this.”

His towel slips, falling to the floor, and my eyes widen as I take him in. All of him. Every hard, defined inch. I look at his rock hard cock and I freeze at the sight.

“Ivan,” I whisper, my voice full of shame, “I’m… I’m a virgin.”

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