Page 12 of Pregnant Bratva Hostage (Dubrov Bratva #17)

Arkady is watching me quietly.

I had no intention of telling him any of this.

It has always been my burden to bear. I’ve never had someone in my life care about what I thought or felt or wanted.

And now he’s watching me with that look in his eyes like he cares.

I swallow hard. No, I must be reading it wrong.

He probably doesn’t care. He probably just thinks I’m stupid for working there after everything. That’s why he asked why I stayed.

Taking a deep breath, I decide to tell him the truth.

“He was blackmailing me,” I say, blurting out the secret I’ve been keeping, deeply relieved to say it out loud.

Arkady’s brows rise as he continues to stare at me. “With what? What did he have to hold over you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Rose,” I say, as though the answer should be as clear as day.

“And Lily Ann. He made it clear that if I didn’t carry on working there, he would continue to hunt them down and they would pay.

He threatened my friend, and he threatened her daughter.

A child. He was willing to use a little girl against me to force me to continue working for him.

So yes, I carried on working there. Because I know him.

He wouldn’t have hesitated. If I stepped out of line or didn’t do as I was told, he would have hurt them. ”

Arkady is staring at me in shock. “So he hadn’t really backed off from them. They were still in his line of fire even after my brother and Rose became a real couple?”

I nod. “My uncle doesn’t care about who people are or who they are with. His ego is too big for that,” I sigh.

“But you were trying to run away—on vacation? What would he have done to Rose if you didn’t return?”

I huff out a frustrated breath. “I needed a break, that’s all.

I was secretly dreaming stupid dreams of never coming back, but I would have.

I would never have left Rose and Lily at his mercy.

” I sigh, accepting the truth of my stupid daydream.

“The only way to escape my uncle is for him to die.” The moment the words are out of my mouth, I’m shocked by how true they are.

It terrifies me that I would say that, though.

“You hate him, don’t you?” Arkady says, reaching out to touch my arm. “Nobody could blame you for hating the man who has been manipulating you.”

I laugh bitterly and shrug my shoulders as though I don’t care, but he can see straight through my pretense. I care very, very deeply.

“That man has put me through hell,” I say. “I’ve never spoken about it. There was no one to listen. No one I dared to tell.”

“You can tell me.” His voice is comforting, gentle, and safe.

I turn to look at him as I bite the inside of my cheek. His eyes are open and tender, not hiding any judgment.

“He made me do horrible things,” I say, my voice soft and ashamed.

“He used me to lure men into hotel rooms—and then he’d be waiting for them.

He used me to get girls to apply for jobs at his businesses, girls like Rose.

People he then used. He forced me to hide documents, commit fraud, and blackmail people—” I can’t stop the confessions from pouring out of my mouth.

I didn’t realize how much I was holding onto, keeping these secrets inside me like a virus in my body.

Years of self-hatred, self-loathing, shame, and fear.

“If I disobeyed him, he would beat me. Sometimes so badly that I couldn’t leave the house for weeks. Then he’d make me work from home until I could hide the bruises with makeup.

“If I pissed him off in a particularly bad way, he’d chain me up in the basement and leave me there for a few days to ‘think about what I’d done,’ as he would put it. My life has been hell.

“I had no choice, because if I said no, I would suffer the consequences. It started when I was too young to even understand what was happening, and by the time I was old enough to stand up for myself, I was so trained to obey him, out of fear, that I just kept doing it.” My heart breaks as my story spills from my lips.

I tell Arkady everything, not able to look at him while I speak, because I know that the moment I do, I will see disgust in his eyes. He will never be able to see me the same way again, and I fully understand that.

“I’m a horrible person,” I whisper. “I’ve done terrible things, and I don’t deserve to be happy.

My choices, to protect myself from my uncle's anger, ended up hurting other people. My choices not to speak out or fight back—I don’t deserve to be happy ever again.

” I sigh, my heart sinking low as I accept that I have some very dark karma to pay.

The entire time I’m speaking, Arkady is quiet. When I stop speaking, he is still quiet. Finally, I can’t take it anymore, and I look at him, preparing myself for the disgust I’m going to see in his eyes.

But it’s not there.

He’s watching me with an expression of sadness.

I narrow my eyes at him, confused.

“Tania, I’m so sorry you went through that,” he whispers, brushing his fingers over my cheek. The gentle, soft gesture breaks my heart. I don’t deserve his sympathy.

Yet, I need it. I desperately need it.

He cups his hand around my cheek and moves closer to me on the sofa. “What you went through—you don’t deserve it, and you can’t blame yourself.”

He brushes a tear away with his thumb, and my emotions surge inside me. His tenderness has broken me completely. I reach up and grab his face in my hands and pull him towards me. My lips crash into his.

I want him.

I don’t care if it’s wrong or right.

I want him to hold me. To kiss me. To make me feel like everything is going to be okay.

My entire life, I’ve never had a moment that belongs purely to me—for me to choose—and I want this. Right now.

Arkady pulls me onto his lap, wrapping his hand around the back of my head. He pushes his mouth harder against mine. His other arm slips around my waist. His cock is rock-hard between my legs as I straddle him, threading my hands around his thick neck and holding onto him.

I rock back and forth on his lap, and he groans with pleasure. The deep sound rumbles through me and fans my desire even more.

He’s far too sexy, too perfect. I want him.

Arkady takes a handful of my hair, knotting his fingers in it. He tugs my head backward, exposing my throat. He traces kisses slowly over my neck, the warmth of his lips brushing over my skin and sending shivers through my body.

I gasp softly, moaning when he lets his tongue slide over my collarbone.

He lifts me off his lap and lays me down on the sofa, pushing my legs apart.

He lies down on his side next to me and pulls one of my legs between his, locking it there. He wraps his arm around my back so that I’m lying against him, locked in his embrace.

His other hand slides over my body, unbuttoning my shirt as he moves down my stomach, his fingers brushing over my skin.

Slowly, his hand drifts downwards, moving between my thighs. Heat sears on my skin wherever he touches me. I let out a sharp gasp as his fingers slip beneath my skirt, moving back up my thigh, and brush over my panties.

There is nothing but thin, lacy material between his touch and my pussy.

He whispers in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “Open your legs wider, darling.”

Lightning shoots through me as I obey him. He pushes my skirt up over my hips, slipping his fingers beneath my panties.

I can feel his cock pressing against my thigh, locked between his legs.

But then he tugs my panties to the side, and his fingers slowly slip inside me and I can’t think about anything but his touch. My pussy throbs over him and I can barely breathe.

“You’re soaked,” he groans, pushing his fingers in deeper. “Dripping wet for me.”

He slowly moves his fingers in and out of my pussy, I try to stay quiet, but I can’t. Each gentle touch is driving me crazy. Each small movement inside me is pushing me over the edge.

When he pushes two fingers deep inside me and presses his thumb against my clit I cry out in pleasure.

My clit is swollen against his touch, sensitive and pleading.

He moves his thumb in a circular motion over me, slowly at first, with light pressure that starts to get harder and faster.

I reach up and grab the pillow behind my head, but he grabs my wrists with the hand that’s wrapped around my back. He locks me in place.

I rock my hips up towards his touch, wanting more pressure, going crazy from the gentleness.

He chuckles against my ear and slips his fingers out of me.

I gasp in disappointment, but Arkady grins that wicked grin and gently slaps me across my pussy, fingers stinging over my swollen, sensitive skin.

It sends a shock wave of pleasure through me.

I spread my legs wider, lifting my pelvis towards his hand.

“Mm. Good girl,” he growls and slaps me lightly again.

My entire body shudders, and he thrusts his fingers inside me again. This time, the pleasure is beyond anything I could imagine, and he moves his hand faster and pushes deeper. His thumb pressed hard against my throbbing clit.

In no time at all, my legs are shaking and I’m gasping, crying out, clutching at him.

The orgasm hits me like a tidal wave. It pulses through me, making me shudder and convulse in his arms.

His lips brush over my cheek as pleasure spills through me.

By the time it’s over, my body is melted against him.

He holds me for a moment, and I roll towards him, lifting my face towards his. I want to kiss him. I don’t want this to end. He is still hard as a rock, and I want to experience all of him.

When I lift my chin to kiss him, he shifts away, sitting up.

Confusion bolts through me.

“Are you—” I don’t know what I want to ask, I just don’t want him to go.

“You should get some rest, darling. It’s been a long day. I’ll make dinner. Go get ready for bed, I’ll bring it to you,” he says, pushing off the sofa and standing up.

Embarrassed, I tug my skirt down, covering myself and sitting up.

He’s already walking away, though, not looking at me at all.

I get the distinct feeling that he only did that because he felt pity for me. Like he wanted to make me feel better, but wasn’t really interested in anything more than that.

I take a shaky breath, trying to ignore the heavy rejection I feel.

He didn’t really want me at all. He could have had me, right now, he could have done anything he wanted to me, and he knows it. Surely he knows that?

Of course he does. I was putty in his hands.

But he walked away.

I’m not good enough for him. He’s not attracted to me.

Why should it matter?

Arkady is the enemy here. He stole me from my life.

I bite my lower lip hard.

What life?

What life did he steal you from, Tania? A life of hell. Torture. Abuse.

Do you really want to go back there? No.

I bite harder, trying to use pain to stop the confusing thoughts. But the truth is that right now I would rather be here, in my enemy’s home, with a man who doesn’t want me, than going back to the life I knew before.

I want nothing to do with my uncle. I hate him.

I hate him more every time I learn something new about him. And the longer I’m away from him, the more clearly I am able to see things.

He is a monster. The worst kind of monster.

Right now, I might be living with the enemy. But the evil I’ve been dealing with my whole life is far worse than this.

How can I ever go back?

What if I have no choice, though?

I stand up, not hungry for whatever Arkady is planning to make for dinner. I’m embarrassed that he felt obliged to pleasure me when he didn’t want to. And I’m confused by the emotions running through me.

I hurry upstairs to hide in my bedroom.

I’ll shower, go to bed, and try to sleep away this horrible day.