Page 110 of The Bratva Betrayal

There’s nothing soft or careful about it, no asking or waiting, just his hand in my hair and his mouth on mine with the last of my restraint gone. He’s stopped arguing with himself about this.

I stop arguing, too.

And I should keep doing it.

Because when his free hand lands between my legs, I’ll agree to anything he says.

Like an idiot.

26

Artem

Dating.

I turn the word over, trying to remember the last time I used it in reference to myself and come up empty-handed.

I have spent time with women, walked away from women, and kept every interaction at a distance that made leaving easy. I have never once stood in a room thinking about how to make someone stay.

This is new.

But I’m not unsettled by it. It’s more that I’m aware of it. Something to account for. And accounting for things is something I’m good at.

I already know what it means in practice. My name will follow her into every room she walks into, and the men with any sense will know what that means. I’ll deal with the ones who don’t have sense, and I find I don’t mind that prospect at all.

There are worse ways to spend an evening than ripping someone’s arm off for touching what’s mine.

Cady is warm against me, and her breathing has gone shallow in a way that has nothing to do with the conversation anymore. I keep my hand where it is because she hasn’t told me to move it. And her body has made its position on the matter very clear.

I feel the small involuntary shift of her toward me that she probably didn’t intend to give me, but I take it anyway because I love when she’s quiet and willing.

“Artem…” My name on her lips does something to me.

“Still here.” I move my lips to her hair.

Her fingers curl into my shirt when I shove a finger inside her, and her breathing catches.

I feel her lean into me. She tries to say something, and it doesn’t quite make it out.

“I’m not—“ A sharp inhale cuts it off when I put another finger inside her and start pumping, causing her forehead to drop to my chest. “I’m not agreeing to anything right now.”

“You don’t have to agree to anything right now.” She bobs her head in response. “You’ll agree later.”

She makes a pretty little moan all for me, and my brain takes hold of that.

I’m not in a rush.

I’ve been patient about Cady Gallagher since the beginning.

Right now, what I want is for her to stop thinking about terms and timeframes and all the careful walls she builds around herself to keep people away.

I want her to start thinking about how hard I can make her come.

“This isn’t fair,” she says quietly as if that will make me stop.

“No,” I agree.

“You’re doing this on purpose.”