Page 65 of The Bratva's Captive

A caveman.

A controlling asshole who’d get so mad over nothing!

All of these were red flags that inspired me to fight him back. He was clearly bad news, but with his firm grip on the back of my neck as he guided me toward the bed, I was caught. Under his insistent lips that parted over mine with these drugging kisses, I was snared in wanting him.

In needing more.

Something was wrong with me to lust for him when he was like this, but I couldn’t deny how he stoked my body into craving him. I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t want him regardless of how ridiculously over the top he was about coming home and finding me near that cook.

“Do you want to bet?” he growled once he wrenched his mouth off mine.

The backs of my knees hit the edge of the bed. He’d thrown me off, making out with me so roughly, that I hadn’t realized we’d crossed through the room already.

“I’m not gambling with you,” I replied with as much snark as I could manage. He’d unraveled me with just that kiss, and as he continued to unbutton his shirt impatiently, giving me glimpses of his tatted, muscled chest, I was too weak to think straight enough and give him more sass.

“Prove it, Sloane.” His eyes slitted as he kept going on his shirt as he dragged his ravenous gaze over me. Without any warning, he grabbed my skirt and yanked it down with my panties. That was how much of a fierce monster he could be—rushed, rough, and ready to show me how he’d always be stronger. Even though the stretchy and soft fabric clung to my knees, he didn’t wait for me to reclaim my balance as he pushed his hand toward my pussy. Feeling his fingers sliding between my legs, I clenched my teeth and wished he didn’t have such power over me.

“Prove that you’re not mine,” he warned.

“I don’t belong to you,” I protested as sternly as I could as he cupped me and dove his fingers along my slippery entrance.

“The fuck you don’t.” He stepped into my space again, kissing me hard as he fingered me, collecting my juices.

Then with his hand on the back of my neck, keeping me in place, he brought his fingers up and traced my lips. The scent of my arousal was unmissable, but he wasn’t giving me a chance to taste myself. He closed his mouth over mine and sucked my lower lip in, swiping his tongue over the moisture he’d put there.

Oh, fuck.

Oh, fucking fuck.

This wasn’t supposed to be hot. It was so bad of me to be this turned on, but he was a master of seduction and truly the lover in control here.

“Your cunt is dripping forme,” he growled as he yanked his tie off.

I shook my head and pushed at his chest, determined with a fading thread of independence to teach him a lesson that I wasn’t just somethingto boss around. I was a person. I was a human. I was an individual and I had to have some fucking rights around here. All I’d done was try to help his cook when he was injured, and there was no reason for him to act like this was a transgression against this twisted, strange bond we had together.

“Your body is ripe forme,” he warned as he grabbed my hands with one of his. Too quickly for me to stop him, he yanked off his tie and bound my hands together.

“Maxim. Stop.”

He scowled, grabbing the halves of my shirt and ripping the garment in two. “No.”

I gasped as he lowered to unclasp my strapless bra, because the second my breasts were revealed, he cupped one with a hungry grip as he latched his mouth to the other. Crying out at the delicious sting of slight pain, I tried to stem this arousal that snaked so hot and fast through me. My nipples were so sensitive, no doubt because of how my body was already changing in this pregnancy, but it was also because it was him. Because Maxim knew how to play my body so well, tuned in to how wild I could get as I neared a climax.

“No, I won’t fucking stop. Not until you understand.” He shoved me onto the bed.

With my hands tied within the silkiness of his tie, I couldn’t break the fall. Landing partly on my side, I scrambled to sit up and face him.

“I won’t stop until you fucking understand that you belong to me, Sloane. You are here to give me an heir,” he repeated as removed his shirt. Staring at me all the while, he incited my skin to burn under his greedy gaze. Then when he shucked off his pants and boxers, letting me see how hard his long shaft was for me, I scooted back—not to escape him, but to brace myself for the pounding I wanted.

“And you need to understand—” I cried out as he grabbed my hands and put me off balance again.

He forced my hands above my head and tied them to the bedframe, stretching me out fully. As he kneeled back, he dragged my skirt and panties all the way off. “No. You’re not telling me how it’s going to be.”

“I’m not?—”

“Exactly. You’re not.” He shoved my legs apart so they draped over his thighs as he kneeled close to my pussy. Staring at me there, he glared so intensely that I had to be gushing even more for him.

“You’ve got no say, Sloane. You belong to me, and you will be mine.”

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