Page 31 of Obsession of the Bratva

That wasn’t a dream.

The shower was running just a few steps away, the sound of water combined with soft moans forcing me awake. For a second, I thought Bianca might have returned and was pulling another episode to get me, but I knew that voice. I could recognize that voice in my sleep. It was Vera. Undoubtedly.

Slowly, I sat upright as a strange feeling settled in my stomach. Then I noticed something else.

The door to my walk-in closet was open, and I was certain I had closed it shut before going to sleep last night. I never left the wooden panels open. My entire body went still because I knew exactly what I was going to find on the other side. I was going to find Vera.

I threw my legs over the side of the bed and stood up. The closer I got, the more obvious it became that she was in there. For a moment, I considered turning around. For a moment, I considered giving her privacy because even without seeing her, her voice was enough to tell me what she was doing. I could imagine her fingers over her pussy, pushing into her slick folds as she pleasured herself. She had done that countless times in front of me. She liked it when I watched.

My jaw tightened at the thought of her naked and wet in my shower. But I knew that whatever was happening here was intentional. She wanted me to find her in this manner. The realization settled heavily as I stepped into the doorway and walked straight towards the open bathroom doors. I had already seen her through the glass walls, but I wanted a clearer view. A closer look.

As I inched further, my gaze finally found her. Her pink pajamas were in a heap on the floor beside me while she herself was seated comfortably over the bathtub tiles beneath the spray of water showering over her from all sides. Her back was against the wall, and her eyes were closed as if whatever she was doing was no longer even a performance. She was clearly enjoying herself.

The moment I saw her, time seemed to slow, not because of what she was doing but simply because it was her. Because after everything, my stupid heart still recognized her before my brain had a chance to intervene.

She had changed since I last knew her in such an intimate manner, and she hadn’t changed at all.

The same dark hair. The same stubborn chin. The same woman who could walk into a room and somehow make everything else disappear. But she looked thinner. Her collar bones were more pronounced, and the small chub of her belly had completely flattened. I could see she had lost a significant amount of weight.

I hated that. God, I hated that so much. It worried me about her.

Months ago, I would have crossed the room without hesitation. Months ago, I would have wrapped my arms around her and kissed her until neither of us remembered how to breathe. Months ago, she had been mine. But now she was the woman who had destroyed me. Or at least that was what I forced myself to remember.

My fingers curled into fists. She still hadn’t noticed me.

“Oh god,” she moaned again. “Yes, fuck, yes.”

I knew how much she loved moaning. Her thumb was administering slow circles over her delicate clitoris while two fingers probed inside her wet pussy. Her legs were plastered to her boobs, giving her complete access to herself. Her body had tensed, and that alone told me how deliberate this entire performance was.

Because Vera noticed everything. Her legs were getting further and further apart, and I knew she was close. She would orgasm any minute now, knowing I was watching. The blush on her white skin told me she knew exactly where I stood. Eventually, her eyes opened, and the second she saw me, she froze.

The expression on her face lasted less than a heartbeat.

Satisfaction. Victory. Challenge. Then it disappeared.

We stared at each other. Neither speaking. Neither moving.

The air between us felt charged enough to start a fire, and I knew exactly what this was.

Retaliation.

She wanted a reaction out of me. She wanted to torture me the way I had tortured her, but even for her this was an extreme step. She knew how she affected me and the attraction I felt towards her, and she was exploiting that completely. I hated it.

But the worst part was that she had succeeded.

My pulse was hammering, my self-control was hanging by a thread. I was seconds away from joining her in the shower, and I knew damned well she wouldn’t even stop me. She would let me touch her and hold her and drive my fingers inside her until she orgasmed all over my hand. But giving her the satisfaction she wanted would mean losing. She wanted me to lose control. She wanted me to admit I still wanted her. She wanted to act as if she didn’t want me back and make me feel awful about it, and I wasn’t ready to give her that.

I had already lost enough because of Vera Stavros, and I was not ready to lose anymore. I was determined to not lose anymore. It was enough already. So I forced myself to remain still, turning my face into an impassive mask, refusing to let her see how precarious my control was in the moment.

I needed to be cold and controlled, and it wasn’t too difficult because I was still a Romanov. And this was the very version of me that she had created. The cold monster she had left in the wake of the destruction she had caused. And now I was going to be just that.

“Agh,” she moaned again, her eyes closing and ignoring me. I could feel my cock straining against the trousers I was wearing, but I ignored it. I had to ignore it. If I had gone out with Bianca last night, this might not have been a problem because being in the same house as Vera all the time only meant I stayed horny all the time.

“Oh God,” she moaned in a small whisper, the sexiest sound another human could make. I wanted her. I wanted her so much, but I was not going to give in.

Just as I opened my mouth to ask her to get out, she continued moaning.

“Oh, Adrian,” she whispered loud enough for the sound to reach me. “Oh yes, Adrian, please. Oh god, Adrian.”