Page 51 of Forced By the Obsessed Bratva

“And yet you’re staring as if you’re desperate to feel my lips on yours. I can bet even now, you’re throbbing to feel me inside you again.”

That put a halt to her, for a second.

Then she tossed a glance over her shoulder, acting smug and indifferent. “Tell yourself whatever helps you to sleep at night, Yezhov.”

“I sleep like a king.” I moved in close, dropping my voice to a whisper. “Making you scream my name helped a lot with that.”

Her breath caught, her teeth digging into her lower lips for a moment before her tongue darted out and swiped over her lips. “Asshole.”

She pushed the dining room doors open with too much force, as if she needed space from me.

I walked behind her slowly.

The table was set with silver cutlery, a white tablecloth, two mugs of hot black coffee, Nutella spread I’d never had the appetite for, and some other food I also didn’t care for.

Zoella sat down stiffly, legs crossed, face coldly serene.

I sat opposite her, arm over the top of my chair, watching her.

She took hold of her spoon, stirred her yogurt as if it had personally offended her.

“You’re staring,” she growled, avoiding my gaze.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Maybe I’m just flushed from my run this morning,” she retorted sharply.

“Or maybe from riding me like you were starving yourself,” I teased, taking her in and anticipating her reaction.

She slammed the spoon on the counter. “You’re disgusting.”

I took a sip of my coffee, ignoring the bite in her tone. “You’re not denying it. Tell me,kotyonok, how long will it take before you stop pretending you’re not drawn to me?”

We sat in silence for a moment, tension wrapping around us like steam.

She lifted her cup, eyes dancing up to meet mine. “I am not drawn to you. Last night meant nothing. It doesn’t change anything between us.”

I leaned forward slightly, elbows on the tabletop. “That’s where you’re mistaken, Zoella. It makes all the difference.”

She shot me a glare, her chest heaving with each breath she took. “I’ll have breakfast upstairs.”

Throwing two pieces of toast and an apple onto her plate, she grabbed her coffee and the Nutella and then stormed off.

I didn’t try to stop her.

She could pretend all she wanted, toss sharp words like knives, strut away like she had the upper hand, but I’d already seen what lived beneath the fire.

And it was only a matter of time before she returned, burning with desire and begging for more of what only I could offer her.

Chapter 13 – Zoella

Something was wrong. I’d felt it the second I opened my eyes this morning. The room tilted slightly, my stomach twisting into a slow, dazed knot. There was a throbbing at the back of my head, not hurting, merely heavy. A pressure that refused to fade, no matter how tightly I lay still.

I wriggled into position with my palms on the mattress and waited for the sensation to fade. It didn’t.

Instead, a wave of nausea washed over me. I pressed my hand against my chest, breathing slowly through my nose like I’d once read in some anxiety blog.

Nothing helped.