Page 88 of Owned Bratva Bride
“Well, you’re a lord yourself now,” I remarked, trying to lighten the mood.
He chuckled, and I found myself wondering if it was just to humor me.
“He looks like he’ll make it back,” he mentioned after a silent minute.
“No spoilers, remember?”
“True.”
A pack of cookies, Eduard’s pack, was the only survivor by the time the movie ended.
When he made no move to release me, I turned to ask, “So, did you enjoy the movie?”
“Surprisingly, I did.”
“Enough to ditch chess for movies?” I pressed.
“Never.”
I laughed.
“But I like this. All of this,” he confessed, his voice solemn.
“I aim to please.”
He brought his face closer to mine.
“You please me, baby. Too much.”
Then his lips came down on mine.
It was slow and deliberate. His lips moved over mine, savoring like he had all the time in the world. He moved me to his lips. My fingers got lost in his impossibly soft hair, and I felt his chest rumble as I tugged softly.
As he broke the kiss, and I opened my eyes, a fear overtook me.
This might be the start of another withdrawal phase. I noticed I felt a sort of pain at the thought of him pulling away from me again.
I feared that I might not be able to take it. That I might lose all my pride and beg.
***
Was I right?
That was the question on my mind on Monday night. Eduard was hardly home, and it was making me wonder if he had decided to distance himself after the lovely movie date.
He stepped out of the bathroom and moved to his side of the bed, not acknowledging me in the least.
I moved closer to him as his back hit the bed.
He looked at me, his eyes asking a silent question.
I placed my hand on his chest, lowering my lips to his.
“Marielle,” he murmured against my lips.
When his hand held mine, stopping me from exploring his chest, I broke the kiss.
“It’s not time yet,” he stated, his voice sounding like a plea. And a lie.
