Page 45 of Plus-Size Bride Forced By the Bratva
As if the heat radiating off his body wasn’t a distraction enough, now I had to deal with the crazy thoughts creeping into my mind.
No, no, no, no, no…not now. Not now, please.
I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to fight back the sexual scenes playing in my head. I thought about straddling him on the sofa and grinding my waist against his groin. Iimagined his strong hands all over my body, taking off my sweater to reveal my breasts.
In an instant, I reopened my eyes before I could drift too deeply into my fantasy and end up embarrassing myself. I felt a tingling sensation between my legs, and my thighs drew together, discreetly grazing against each other.
Come, Ravyn. Focus. Please.
My fingers continued working, brushing against his skin in a way that made his body stiffen. Not from pain but from something I had yet to name. His gaze was unwavering, his breathing low and steady.
He flinched for the first time, a small hiss escaping his lips when I tugged the thread a little tighter.
“Hey, hold still,” I said, my voice dripping with a playful warning.
“Easy for you to say. You’re not the one being poked with a needle,” he replied casually.
I let out a quiet laugh. “That’s one way to put it.” After a moment of silence, I added, my tone laced with gratitude, “Thank you.”
He hesitated, as if unsure what I was thanking him for. My eyes darted to his face the moment our gazes met, and my heart melted like ice cream. In an instant, I remembered how he sprang into action at the sound of that first gunshot.
He’d jumped right in front of a bullet for me, and now I couldn’t help but wonder why. What if the bullet hadn’t just grazed his arm? What if it had hit a vital organ? Did that mean he was willing to die for me?
No, it didn’t add up. He didn’t think highly enough of me to do that.
Or did he?
“What’re you thanking me for?” he asked, his eyes boring into mine.
“Saving my life,” I answered.
‘Taking a bullet for me’ would’ve been a better response, but I didn’t think we were there yet. Saying the words like that would’ve made the whole thing awkward.
He went silent, but his gaze never left my face. There was something in his eyes, something lighter than his usual coldness. Yet, I couldn’t decipher what it was.
The longer he held my gaze, the more rapidly my heart raced. A shiver sprinted down my spine, and a flutter rose in my chest. I was glued to his face, unable to look away, although I didn’t want to—I was enjoying this staring contest.
After a short while, I broke eye contact and finished up on his arm. “And…done.” I clipped the last thread with a pair of scissors.
He glanced at his stitched gash, a glint of intrigue flickering in his eyes. “Not bad,” he murmured under his breath.
I raised my brows at him.Not even a thank you? You entitled prick.“Yeah. You’re welcome,” I said, my voice low and sarcastic.
By the time I rose to my feet, ready to step away from him, my breath hitched when he grabbed my wrist. I paused in my tracks, my heart hammering in my chest. His touch had sent shivers down my core, and my eyelids instinctively slammed shut.
I felt the tension in the air, the charge between us, but I couldn’t bring myself to imagine what he was up to.
Quietly, he let go of my hand, and without wasting any more time, I walked out of the room and didn’t look back. Outside his study, I leaned my back against the wall, a hand on my chest as I struggled to catch my breath.
A soft exhale fell off my lips as I wondered what that was all about. Was it his twisted way of saying thank you? Or just a reminder of his control over me?
What if it was neither? What if it was a plea for me to stay back—to keep him company? Lev was a proud man of few words; he wouldn’t ever ask that of me. But his actions could. What if that was what he wanted—for me to sit with him?
***
Later that night, I lay in bed, facing the ceiling and wondering what would’ve happened if I’d just stayed back. Lev had successfully slithered his way into my heart, my mind, and my soul. Now, I couldn’t get rid of him no matter how hard I tried.
I grabbed the pillow that smelled of his cologne, clutched it against my chest, and lay on my side. My thoughts went wild, imagining the crazy things we’d do to each other when we eventually fucked.
