Page 104 of Married to My Sis’s Bratva Fiancé

I knew it too well.

Those nights after the wedding, he never admitted he needed me. His body always told the truth for him.

The shower glass was streaked. A towel lay thrown over the bar. Kiryan did everything neat, unless he hadn't been able to give a damn.

"Asshole," I muttered.

Whatever he'd done in my bathroom while smelling my clothes—there wasn't even a question.

Worst part? My body answered.

My lower belly clenched hard. Heat sank low. I squeezed my thighs together, pressed my fingers to the cold sink—still didn't snap out of it.

My mind remembered him letting go of my hand at that birthday party. It remembered the soft, filthy sound on the phone. It remembered him admitting Isabella had been the one who should've married him in the first place.

My body only remembered the force of his hand at my waist—and that open fly.

I turned on the shower. Cold water hit my shoulders. The fire just burrowed deeper.

Outside the door, I heard quiet movement.

Kiryan was right there. A few steps away.

One door between us.

All I had to do was open it, look at him once, and he'd know.

The thought made my breath shake. I bit my lip hard.

No.

I couldn't use desire to pay off his sins. I couldn't let "he saved me" erase the debt of everything before.

But I couldn't order my body to stop, either.

Water ran down my chest. I closed my eyes, rested my forehead against the cold tile, and let my hand slide with the water.

I told myself it had nothing to do with Kiryan.

I'd just been holding too much in for too long.

Pregnancy made my body more sensitive than before.

The storm, the fear, the way he'd gotten too close at the worst possible moment—everything had pushed my nerves to the edge.

But when my fingers moved through the steam, slow and sure, it was still him in my head.

His knuckles tight on the steering wheel.

The way he held himself back, stepping away like it cost him.

The way he'd stood in the rain and covered my paintings with his coat—soaked to the bone, and still the first thing he said was, Get in the car.

And when he'd opened the bathroom door and caught me staring, that mean, almost-tender curve to his mouth.

My body drew tight. Heat pooled and melted into the water, sliding down my legs.

"Fuck—" the shock hit like electricity, and I almost went down.