Page 24 of Forced Innocent Bride By the Bratva

In that fleeting moment of tranquility, I felt my eyelids grow heavy, my breath slowing down as his fingers worked out the knots in my shoulders. Reflexively, I rolled my neck, my body surrendering to his delicate touch.

He leaned in, his lips so close to my ear that I could feel his warm breath on my skin. “And now, who are you, and what is it you want?” he murmured, his fingertips still working their magic on my shoulders.

His deep, husky voice sent shivers down my spine, and I swallowed hard, feeling goosebumps crawl over my skin.

Why couldn’t I answer his simple question? Who was I, and what did I really want? A few weeks ago, I had these answers on the tip of my tongue, but that didn’t seem to be the case tonight.

The fact that I was confused about what I wanted at this point was a clear indication that something was terribly wrong.

Fuck.

Chapter 15 – Daniel

At last, she was unraveling, gradually giving in to the glint of desire I saw each time I looked into her green eyes. The way her breath quickened when around me and the way her gaze lingered a moment too long before snapping away were all testaments that her high walls were starting to crumble.

This was an unexpected turn of events for her, and I could see her struggling to stay in control. She fought herself every day in an attempt to mask this newfound emotion that just wouldn’t go away.

The other night, when she sat by the window, gazing at the cityscape, I felt the way her body moved in response to my touch. Scarlett couldn’t help it; she melted at the feeling of my fingers easing the tension in her muscles. She loved it. She loved every bit of it.

I’d asked her a simple question that she couldn’t answer, and her inability to do so only meant one thing: uncertainty.

A few weeks ago, Scarlett knew exactly what she wanted: to get the hell out of this “hellhole” by any means necessary. She’d spend hours, almost the whole day, studying the mansion, searching for means to escape. That version of her knew who she was and where she ought to be.

However, lately, her eyes held a hint of something else, something that seemed to overshadow that burning determination, that zeal to escape this place. Dark desire. That was what she’d been fighting this whole time. That was the reason for her uncertainty.

Scarlett wasn’t sure what she wanted, so she was unable to give me an answer. But how true was that? Did she really not know what she wanted, or was she just lying to herself, too afraid to face the truth?

I, for one, knew what she wanted.

Me.

Of course, she’d never admit it. She already hated herself for having such desires for the man she claimed to loathe, the same man who’d stolen the life she could have had. But there was only one way to find out what was really on her mind, and tonight, I’d push until she broke.

My eyes darted toward the wall clock; it was almost midnight, and she wasn’t in bed with me. With a slight groan, I got up, sitting on the edge of the bed, my mind calculating the possible places in the mansion she’d be by this time.

I rose to my feet, stripped to the waist and clad in nothing but black joggers. My fingers combed through my hair as I headed out of the master bedroom, my feet soundless against the marble floor.

I strolled down the hallway to the staircase, where I descended with a hand in my pocket, my footsteps quiet on the plush carpet. Reaching the bottom step, I turned toward the living room, expecting to see her lounged on a sofa, or maybe sitting at the fireplace or the minibar. But the room was empty, with just the soft crackle of dying embers filling it.

My eyes scanned the opulent space, taking in the familiar interior: the contours of the furniture, the rich texture of the upholstery, and the warm, muted colors of the wall. Still, no sign of Scarlett.

Just as I turned to check the kitchen, my gaze fell upon the library door, which stood slightly ajar. A warm, golden light spilled through the narrow slit, casting an inviting glow on the floor. Someone was in there, and as I drew closer, Scarlett’s signature scent invaded my senses, a testament that my search was over.

With a gentle push, the door opened, and I stepped inside, my eyes adjusting to the warm, golden light that enveloped me. The air was tinged with the scent of aged paper as towering bookshelves seemed to stretch up to the ceiling, their leather-bound volumes gleaming in the soft light.

In this cozy sanctuary, Scarlett sat on a plush sofa, her legs crossed in a relaxed pose that exuded confidence. Lost in the pages of a book, she didn’t hear me walk in, her eyes scanning the text with rapt attention. What a perfect distraction from her reality!

Perched on that sofa like she owned the place, soft light danced across her features, illuminating the delicate curve of her neck and the gentle swell of her breasts.

My eyes narrowed at the sight of her, glowing with elegance at this time of night—sexy in every way. I paused in my tracks, drinking in her beauty as my gaze swept over her endearing physique.

The fabric of her nightgown was a soft, silken whisper that seemed to cling to her skin, accentuating the gentle curves of her body. Its loose strap slid off her left shoulder, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her skin that made my mouth water.

I stood there, mesmerized by the vision of elegance in front of me, watching her turn a page, her finger brushing against the paper with a soft, delicate touch. My eyes fell back to her gentle swells, and I could feel my shaft twitching in my pants. A sudden wave of heat spread across my body, and a flame of passion ignited within me. At that moment, I knew for sure that I wanted her; I craved her.

The plan was to find her, push her to her limit, and make her give in to her own desires, and this was the perfect motivation.

I cleared my throat conspicuously, drawing her attention to my looming presence.

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