Page 20 of The Bratva's Forced Kidnapped Bride
She was toying with me, and as much as it pissed me off, I liked it even more. Was she trying to make me lose control? To put her in her place again, I filled the mere inches between us and wrapped all that loose, shining hair around my hand, tugging her head back. Her gasp as her mouth fell open was the final straw. I claimed that lush mouth, the one that had been teasing me, the one that always had something defiant to say, the one that had been calling me to kiss her since the day I grabbed her and made her mine.
She stiffened, shoving me, but I held on tighter, my hand sliding down her back to grip that tight little ass she’d been shaking only a few minutes before. I felt her begin to meltagainst me, the hands that had been pushing at my chest now moving up to grab onto my shoulders.
Was this part of the game? Did I give a shit as long as my tongue was in her mouth and she was gasping for more? It seemed like I did, because I pulled away, giving her a long look. She trembled, leaning against me, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she searched my face with wide eyes. I stepped back, out of her grasp, and left her swaying on her tottering high heels.
Maybe I won this round. Then again, maybe I didn’t.
Chapter 15 - Masha
My vision cleared to see him stomping out of the roomy walk-in closet, slamming the door on me. I blinked, dazed, my hand rising to touch my lips. What in the hell was that? I could still feel his mouth on mine, his hands running down my back. And damn it all if I didn’t want more.
I was stunned for a long moment. That kiss had affected me too much when it shouldn’t have affected me at all. While being a high-ranking woman in the Bratva had its difficulties when it came to proving myself in physical fights, there were other ways of being physical that relied on it.
I’d used seduction as a means to get what I needed before and never felt anything but contempt for the suckers who let themselves fall into my trap. While I still felt contempt for Anatoli, it was like I was clinging onto it for dear life in order not to fall into other, stickier emotions. I was very close to losing control, and I couldn’t have that, not when I had the perfect opportunity to gain even more valuable information to take down the Ovinkos once I escaped. Maybe even the Collective along with them. And I would escape, despite this new setback.
There was no use sweeping it to the furthest recesses of my mind and pretending I didn’t want that asshole on some level. He was handsome, charismatic, and powerful, and I’d always had a little thing for older men, so finding Anatoli attractive was natural. It was important to acknowledge it so I could squash it and stay in control. Or rather, get control back.
Whether I liked it or not, I was all tarted up in the blue dress and going to the family dinner. Right now, Anatoli was in charge, so I had to find a way to turn the tables before I ended up back in the torture chair.
Stepping out of the closet, he wasn’t in the big master bedroom, lavishly furnished in an Asian style with black lacquer furniture and intricate oil paintings on the silk-covered walls. It wasn’t to my taste, but it somehow suited Anatoli, whose big body I could easily picture sprawled across the huge bed. Too easily. The image wouldn’t leave, so I moved to the bathroom where I stood in front of a full-length mirror.
Because of his insistence on wrapping it around his hands at every chance he got, my hair was a mess, but the rest of me looked pretty damn good. The dress was beautiful despite my pretended disdain. I didn’t get many chances to dress up, and while most of me thought it was a silly waste of time, I appreciated a fine-looking man in a bespoke suit, so why shouldn’t Anatoli be allowed to gawk at me? I’d certainly put on a show.
That had shaken him, I was sure of it. If only the outcome hadn’t left me even worse off. He’d walked away after all, and I was still going to have to put on an even bigger show for his family.
Finding a brush to drag through my hair, I tied it back in a low ponytail, letting the natural waves fall down my back. It was the best I could do, since Anatoli bellowed my name from out in the hall. As grateful as I was for all the good sleep I caught up on after the long flight, he could have given me more time to get ready.
He gave me a short once-over and nodded, then turned on his heel. I guess I was supposed to follow, not daring to push my luck when his eyes were the color of cold steel and his jaw was set in hard lines. Was he nervous about seeing his family after being away for such a long time?
I couldn’t imagine going a week without seeing my family, even if it was only on a video call. Being in Russia, even so many miles from Moscow, made me long for my parents, who were proud of both Lilia and me, but still weren’t convinced our decision to stay in America was the best one. They wanted Lilia to marry and settle down already, and they’d thrown up their hands in despair at me ever acting like a proper young lady, and just prayed I stayed alive to possibly give them grandchildren in the far-off future.
The dinner was at a restaurant that had been cleared out for the family’s use, probably owned by one of them. It wouldn’t have been possible to serve anyone else since there were so many of them.
“I thought my family was big,” I said to Anatoli, right before we were enveloped by the crowd.
All my senses went on high alert, being swarmed by an enemy faction, but they were warm and welcoming, hugging and kissing me, congratulating Anatoli on such a good catch. I was seated between two elderly men, great-uncles whose names I forgot as soon as they told me. A shrewd-looking woman with dyed red hair sat across from me, introduced herself as Aunt Nadia, and told me she was the one responsible for filling my closet—on Anatoli’s orders, of course.
“He’s so generous,” I cooed, wanting to cut my tongue off with a steak knife. “And your taste is impeccable.”
The whole thing was fairly low-key after all the toasts in our honor. Someone seemed like they wanted to start something with Anatoli, making a crack about his long absence, but it was quickly shut down by one of the many elders. I didn’t learn much and was happy when someone suggested dancing. Some of the strapping young men cleared away the tables and someone elseblasted rousing Russian folk music, and soon I was being swung around by my doting husband.
“Worse than you imagined?” he asked grimly.
“Not at all,” I said honestly. “I think your old Uncle Vlad tried to pinch me when we stood up, though. I hope you won’t put a hit out on him.”
He laughed, his face relaxing. “That’s Vasily, and I’m sure his hand just slipped.”
We whirled around and around, and no matter who tried to cut in, Anatoli wouldn’t take his hands off me, finally pulling me close when the music slowed down. His grip was firm and his eyes intense. Could he have been more affected by the kiss than I thought?
If so, it could be just what I needed to get back in the driver’s seat. I pulled myself close, holding tight to his shoulders. “When will this be over?” I breathed in his ear, melting against him when he hugged me tighter.
“Right about now,” he said, breaking away to shout to everyone that his pretty bride was jetlagged and needed to get to bed.
Everyone laughed, and I played along, sliding my hand under Anatoli’s jacket to press my palm against the hard warmth of his back. His muscles stiffened, and he looked down at me sharply. I blinked up at him and let a subtle smile curve my lips. Something burned in his eyes that had heat gliding through my veins. Anticipation mixed with wariness.
By the time we got back to the apartment, it was all anticipation. As soon as we were through the door, I didn’t give him a chance to say a word. Pouncing, I grabbed his shouldersand pulled myself close, colliding with his rock-hard body and kissing him fiercely.
If he sensed the anger in me, it only fueled his own, and within a heartbeat, his hands were all over me, his footsteps backing me against the nearest wall. Gasping against his mouth, I dug my fingernails in, pulling and pushing at the same time. His fingers were in my hair, yanking out the ponytail holder to glide through the strands, suddenly tugging hard.
