Page 24 of Forced & Owned By the Bratva Boss

It’s hard not to stare at the way her ass bounces with each step as she heads for the staircase, and the sight sends a jolt straight to my cock.

Fuck!

I’ve been with many women. So many that even Ruslan believes sex doesn’t move me any longer. Yet here I am, gripping the ends of my self-control when it comes to her, the woman I should hate for fucking with me.

But I can’t even bring myself to think straight around her.

This can’t go on any longer. I’m doomed if it does.

Frustrated by my own desire for Audrey, I rise to my feet and stride after her. She’s already in the bedroom by the time I make it upstairs.

I grab her by the wrist and press myself against her, caging her between my body and the wall.

“What are you doing?” she breathes, her chest rising and falling rapidly against mine.

“Setting boundaries,” I growl, leaning in close enough to feel the heat radiating from her. The scent of her perfume fills my nose, invading my senses. It’s a soft, floral scent mixed with vanilla that makes me want to drop to my knees and lick her from head to toe. “This house is mine. You’re not going to go around throwing orders at me, Audrey.”

She scoffs, masking her sudden breathlessness with a sharp glare. “I already told you, this house is as much mine as it is yours. You made me your wife, not your slave.” She twists her wrist, a useless attempt to break free from my grip. “Take your hands off me.”

I’m careful not to hold her too tightly and cause her any pain, but I can’t bring myself to let go. “No.”

Her brows arch. “No?”

“No,” I repeat, and for a long moment, neither of us moves or says anything more.

Audrey’s pulse flutters wildly beneath my fingers, syncing with the pounding in my chest and the throbbing in my pants.

We’re standing so close to each other. It’s dangerous, because all I have to do is lean over and my lips will be pressed against hers, claiming her as mine in every way that matters.

A slow smile curves her lips, and she shakes her head twice. “You’re angry.”

I swallow hard. “I have every reason to be.”

She shakes her head again. “No, that’s not it.” Her eyes pierce into mine as if she can read my mind—read all the dark, lustful, possessive thoughts taking up my headspace. “You’re angry because you want me.”

“Want? I don’t want you, Audrey.”

What I feel for her goes way beyond wanting.

It’s yearning.

The type that burns through my heart and makes me want to tear the world apart. It’s obsession. A need to possess her. To own her and everything she stands for.

I can already tell she’ll be my undoing.

I shouldn’t want her.

I should hate her for trying to fuck up my life.

But I can’t. I desire her more than I’ve ever wanted anything else. I might try to lie to myself, but it’s obvious she can see right through me.

Right through my soul.

“Really?” She tilts her head, studying me as though I’m a fascinating puzzle. “Because you haven’t stopped staring at me since breakfast.”

“Was I?”

“You were undressing me with your eyes.” Her eyes bore into mine, and then she throws the accusation right in my face. “You’re in denial. I never thought you’d be this much of a coward about your own feelings.”