Page 43 of The Bratva Sinner

“My family.”

“Wait, like the mob?”

His lips curl back. “We are not the mob. We’re the bratva.”

“Potato, potahto. Same thing. No thanks. I don’t wear leopard print and fur.”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything?”

I tear open one of the large square bandages. “Mob wives. I don’t do the mob wife thing.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t wear!”

He stands up with the towel riding dangerously low on his hips. “You will marry me, because I just started a war over you. This is the only way I can protect you from what you set in motion!”

“I didn’t tell you to do whatever you did tonight!”

“They’ll come for you to punish me,” he hisses.

I glare at him, refusing to back down. I don’t care that he murders people who piss him off. I will not bow to anyone.

“It solves the problem."

"I'm not a horse you can rescue and put in a stable," I snap. "I'm not a project. I'm not something broken that you fix by giving it somewhere to live. I won’t deny I’m a problem, but if you think I’m going to marry you, you’re going to learn how much of a problem I can be."

He’s staring at me with an intensity that prickles my skin. His chest is rising and falling rapidly. I’m also breathing too fast. There’s something dark and hungry behind his eyes that should terrify me.

His hand cups the back of my neck, pulling me forward, and then his mouth is on mine.

I should push him away or slap him. I should do anything except what I’m doing, which is kissing him back and moaning into his mouth.

His lips are surprisingly soft against mine, demanding and gentle at the same time. The kiss is desperate, like he’s trying to devour me. His other hand finds my waist and drags me against his body.

Another moan slips out of me. His tongue sweeps against mine, and I clutch at him just to stay standing. My palms slide over hard muscle, and the steady thunder of his heartbeat.

This is insane. This is wrong. He just ordered me into marriage like it’s another war to win, and now, he’s kissing me like I’m the only thing keeping him alive.

God help me, I can’t stop. One kiss and I’m ready to hand him my virginity on a silver platter.

What is wrong with me?

His hand slides from my waist to the small of my back, pulling me flush against him. The towel might as well not be there. I feel him, hard and hot against me, and my brain goes blank.

Holy shit.

He’s huge.

What am I doing?

Panic cuts through the heat, and I plant both hands against him.

He releases me immediately and stumbles back a step. The room goes silent except for the sound of us trying to breathe.

“No,” I say. “No. No way.”

My lips are tingling. My body is on fire, and I’m seriously thinking about climbing him and begging him to fuck me.

“Stay away from me.” I run from his room.