Page 25 of The Bratva's Forced Kidnapped Bride
“I’m good at firefights. I suck at dancing.” Her hands moved up to my shoulders. “Just for a few minutes. Please.”
I could have punished her for playing me, but instead decided to take her in my arms and start swaying. I had been wanting to touch her again for what felt like a lifetime instead of a mere three days. There was no music, but we didn’t need any. As soon as my fingers gripped her waist, electricity flowed between us.
She had been looking down as we moved, following our feet, but when I pulled her close, her head jerked up. Our eyes met, hers going dark like black coffee, and her breath hitched in her throat.
“They’ll expect a slow dance,” I said. “You’ve been selling our love story very well.”
“Mmhmm.” Her eyes fluttered shut.
“I hope it hasn’t been too hard for you.”
She tipped up her chin, eyes still closed, her lips slightly parted. With a subtle shake of her head, she inched closer. Her hair looked nice, all piled on top of her head, accentuating her delicate jaw and pert nose, but I itched to sink my fingers into it and feel the silky strands between them.
It was like time skipped forward, and the next thing I knew, my mouth was on hers. Her hands had somehow twined themselves behind my neck, holding tight as I yanked her to me. She tasted like peppermint, and the scent of roses and fresh berries wafted from her hair and velvety-smooth skin.
I moved my hands down her fuzzy pajamas, smiling as she sighed against my lips. I wanted her, too damn much. I didn’t want to fight it anymore, not when her body was pressed against mine and I had her perfect ass cupped in my palms. Not when she was rising on her toes to deepen our kiss, moaning when she felt my cock twitch against her.
“What about dancing?” she asked, leaning back an inch.
I tugged her back to me. “Just hold onto me.”
“I can do that,” she said, her mouth eagerly meeting mine again.
Was she faking? Did I care? Could I have her again and maintain control? I slid my tongue along her lower lip, movingmy hands up her back, under her top to feel her heated skin. Her arms tightened around my neck, fingers sliding through my hair. Another sigh.
I couldn’t trust her, not at all, and giving in to my desire would mean giving up control. She was so damn soft and warm, and holding on so tight. She was Masha, she was mine. Suddenly, things like trust and control didn’t matter, and I began to ease her top up, wanting so much more. Needing so much more.
Just as suddenly, the alarm on my phone went off.
I groaned, but didn’t break our kiss, only pulled her closer, held on tighter. The damn alarm continued to ring.
“What is that?” she asked, leaning back. Her eyes were glazed, her lips wet, half her lipstick smeared, and the other half gone, probably on me. Her hands still toyed with my hair.
“I set it so I’d remember to get ready in time. It means we have to leave in twenty minutes. But—”
As I lowered my mouth to hers again, she jolted out of her trance, looking down at her pajama-clad body, then over to the gown hanging off the bathroom door. “Twenty minutes?” she yelped. “Oh my God. That’s not enough—” Her eyes closed for a brief second, then she flung herself away from me, grabbing the elaborate dress and slamming herself into the bathroom.
Did she look as disappointed as I felt? Or was that more of the act?
Chapter 19 - Masha
Twenty minutes to get into a dress that was more of a work of art than clothing. I would have been irritated if I hadn’t been so shaken by what had just happened. What actually just happened? Despite deciding to get Anatoli under my thumb by means of seduction, I really had only wanted to get a handle on my nonexistent waltzing skills.
Next thing I knew, I was trying to get tiny silk-covered buttons through seemingly tinier silk loops without dislocating my shoulder. There was no way I’d ask Anatoli for help, not when he had just about reduced me to a mass of jelly. Who was doing the seducing here? I had to get it together, but it was difficult with those memories of what I knew he could do to me crowding in. And it wasn’t torture that was at the front of my mind.
As he waited impatiently for me at the front door, I once again faltered, because he looked absolutely scrumptious. I had never been one to swoon over any pop stars or actors, and I rarely even got a crush. Just no time for anything like that, and I didn’t dare risk putting myself in a position of weakness, even with someone I could trust.
I couldn’t trust Anatoli at all, but it felt way too much like I was crushing on my captor, like a teenager with a super hot teacher who was all the hotter for being off limits. It didn’t help at all to remind myself that he was almost twice my age, because that only added to the attraction. One look at him in his dark suit that molded perfectly to his broad shoulder and lean waist had me stumbling on my strappy gold heels.
The look he gave me almost knocked me all the way out. Full of possessive pride, which should have pissed me off, but only made me tingle all over.
“You’re more beautiful than a starry night,” he said. Damn him.
“At least as sparkly,” I grumbled, referring to the matching gold and diamond set dripping from my ears, neck, and wrist.
He ignored my tone and reached out to touch the golden strand that rested against my exposed cleavage. His fingers lingered a moment too long, and I stepped back. If I were thinking straight, I would have used my wiles to make him forget the party, forget everything but me. But I wasn’t thinking straight, and that was the problem. I wanted him too much for my own good.
The party was held in a ballroom at a secluded mansion in the country. At least as big as any of my cousins’ warehouses, it was lit up with fairy lights, half the space for tables and the other half for a massive dance floor beneath a stage with a live band. It was crazy inside, with everyone from big, scarred thugs to little children running and shrieking happily through the throng.
