Page 77 of Forcibly Sold to the Bratva
Her jaw tightens, and my brain scrambles. I know Arina. She’ll always put the safety of my family first, herself first. I need to trigger the truth out of her. I need to give myself a reason by making her defend herself. That’s the only way.
“Tell me! How didImake a fool out of you?”
The hurt I've been carrying erupts into anger. "One day you're in my bed, the next you're telling me it was all a lie."
"It wasn't real," she says, but her voice wavers. "I was confused, traumatized—"
"Bullshit," I cut her off, moving closer until we're inches apart. "You weren't confused when you nursed me back to health. You weren't traumatized when you kissed me silly."
Her eyes flash. "And you were only using me the whole time, weren’t you?”
We had resolved this. She told me she knew I never meant those words, and in this moment, I know the truth. There is something else going on here.
I move forward and she tries to step away, but I gently grab her arm and force her to look at me. “And what were you doing? Pretending to care for me only to tell me we mean nothing? Who was the one using who, huh?”
Her eyes shine when she meets my gaze. "I can't be with you. Ever. No matter what I want."
"That's not what I asked," I grip her shoulders. "Admit you were using me, Arina. Or is there some other reason? Is there something you’re hiding?”
"I wasn’t—" she begins, but falters. "Please, just let me go. I can’t be with you.”
"I don't care," I grip her face between my hands. "I'm not letting you go again."
“Ilariy,” she whispers, tears now falling down her face.
“What is it?” I hiss. “You can’t stand the sight of me so much that it makes you cry? Is that it? Is that how much you hate me?”
“No!” she stammers, meeting my gaze. “No… I don’t hate you. I just don’t want to be with you. Please,” she whispers, and I can see her words are tearing at her, eating her alive.
It could be so easy to fall on my knees, to tell her how haunted I’ve been when she left. To tell her she’s now the centre of my world.
But brave, innocent, selfless Arina. If she hears those words, she’ll only fight harder to save me. If Tikhon has her in his grip, with a threat to me hanging over her, she’ll only fight harder to stay away.
And so, I can’t. I need her to want to fight. I need to hear it from her.
“Arina,” I whisper, gently wiping at her tears. “Just tell me the truth.”
Her eyes meet mine, and she shakes her head, like this secret she refuses to admit is killing her inside, but then, ever so slowly, she leans into my touch.
“Arina, what do you want?” I whisper, my face inching towards her. She looks up, her eyes flicking to my lips.
"Just tell me, Arina," I plead softly, my heart aching at her silent pain. "What's changed?"
She grabs my shirt and for a minute, I think she’s going to push me away, but she pulls closer, until her lips are a breath away and she hisses, “You don’t take the hint, do you? I don’t want to see you again. Ever! Do you like hearing that? Over and over again?”
Her words wash over me, kindle the anger in my heart, but I know these aren’t her words. She still has my shirt in her grip, she’s still a breath away, her eyes are still on my lips, and just then, her pupils blast open, desire etched deep within.
“Yeah?” I inch closer until my lips are pressed against hers. “You don’t want to see me, but you have me in your grip? Let me go, Arina. Push me away. Step back. Let’s see if you can do it.”
For literally a second, we just stand there, and I wonder if I risked too much. I wonder if I crossed a line, if she’ll push me away.
But the next thing I know, she lets out a moan and her lips brush against mine.
She won’t say. But she wants me just as I want her.
And then I'm kissing her, pouring all my fear and relief and need into the press of my lips against hers. For a moment, she's frozen, and then she melts against me, her arms winding around my neck as she kisses me back with equal desperation.
She tastes like champagne, her body trembling against mine as I pull her closer. My hands drop to her waist, lifting her onto the desk behind her. Her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling me deeper into the kiss.
