Page 21 of The Russian’s Forced Bride (Kamarov Bratva #2)

A ray of light burning through my eyelids caused me to shuffle in my sleep, and by the time I awoke, a frown lined my face when I saw that the bed was empty, with the blinds drawn open, allowing the burning sun to filter into the room.

I figured Rafael wasn’t home again, even though today was Saturday. But then the smell of bacon wafted into my nostrils and made my stomach rumble. My brows furrowed as I sat up, swinging my legs off the bed.

Rafael hadn’t hired any cooks as far as I knew, and aside from that, no one had access to the house except for us both.

My breathing hitched beneath my throat as a wave of panic coursed through me, and tiptoeing across the room’s floor, I grabbed one of my heels from the walk-in closet.

If it were an intruder, I planned to knock them out with the shoe’s heel.

I knew it wasn’t enough to counter a killer, but I was certain I could do enough damage with it.

So, tightly hugging Rafael’s T-shirt that I wore against my body, I carefully slipped out of the room and onto the corridor where I could see whoever it was without having to go downstairs.

But then my eyes widened in surprise when I saw Rafael dressed only in sweatpants, his muscled, tattooed back facing me.

It was the first time in forever that I had woken up to find him home in the morning. He had been so busy these days that we hardly got the time to see each other, and now here he was, cooking me breakfast.

I couldn’t have been more relieved—and gladder, even.

“Are you just going to keep staring at me, kroshka ?” His voice cut through the room, and heat flooded my cheeks with embarrassment.

His senses were sharp as always, but I wasn’t surprised by that fact any longer. I had come to accept the kind of man he was. And these days, it didn’t matter anymore that I had once hated him. My feelings toward him had become confusing.

Some days, I despised him, and on others, I longed to feel all of him.

I hurried down the spiral staircase, and as soon as I reached him, I hugged him from behind, resting my head against his muscular back. His woodsy scent filled my senses, and I couldn’t help but think how much I wanted him to be around me like this.

“Another nightmare?” he asked, still flipping the bacon that sizzled in the frying pan.

I lifted my head off his back, pulling away from the hug as I now stood beside him, facing him, and leaned my back against the wooden tabletop.

His focus was on the meal, but my eyes glanced over his dark features as I resisted the urge to touch his face.

“No…I’m just glad you’re here,” I replied to his question.

His eyes flicked to mine for a moment, an intensity there that made my skin burn. I could never get used to seeing him look at me like that.

His eyes always examined me intensely, as if I were a piece of art. It felt too personal—and a sadistic part of me enjoyed it.

“I’ll try to make more time,” he then said, turning off the fire and dishing the bacon onto a plate, which he now slid my way.

“No, you don’t have to. I just want to help if there’s any way I can,” I told him, setting the plate he slid my way aside as I spoke, my eyes on his.

I wanted to be useful to him in all ways possible, but he shook his head.

“You’re already doing as much as you can, kroshka . I just want you safe.”

And he meant it—I knew he did. But I couldn’t help but feel like a burden. It was because he was so determined to fulfill his promises to me that he was always so busy.

His hands reached out to gently cup my cheeks as his eyes brushed over my face.

“I just don’t want you making decisions without asking me first. You understand, right?” he asked, his voice low as he inched closer to me, and I nodded.

“Alright, so when do we get to go on a date?” I asked, wrapping my hands around his neck as his head drew closer to mine, our breaths mingling dangerously.

“Date?”

I chuckled airily. “You know, some fancy restaurant or a picnic just in our backyard where we get to know more about each other.”

“You already know me,” he mused, a small smile on his lips. But his eyes seemed guarded—like there was something he was hiding. Something he didn’t want me knowing.

“I want to know everything,” I whispered, my voice soft and sweet like honey as my eyes flickered to his lips.

He didn’t reply but just grabbed my waist, lifting me onto the kitchen counter so he was now between my legs. Lowering his head, he placed his lips on mine while his hands slipped between my legs and gently stroked my clit.

My body jerked against his fingers as he pleasured me, all the while kissing me, and I could feel my toes curling as he continued to flick my clit aggressively.

As the pressure mounted and heat coiled deep in my belly, I found myself grinding against him, searching for as much friction as possible.

I rode his fingers, pushing and pushing until, at last, a wave of warmth washed over me, carrying me to my climax.

My moans filled the room as his fingers worked their magic on me—yet it still wasn’t enough.

I wanted to feel his dick buried inside me.

“I want you in me,” I murmured once his lips left mine and moved to the base of my neck, which he sucked hard on.

He paused, his dark gaze meeting mine amid our heavy breathing. Although his eyes were clouded with lust, he still listened to me. He lifted me from the tabletop and laid me on the couch.

And while he slid off his sweatpants, all the while watching me, I took off his shirt that I wore, leaving me vulnerable to him as I spread my legs open, exposing my wet opening to him.

He made his way onto the couch, his naked body in full display as he hovered over me, pulling me closer and inching his dick toward my opening while his hands held my hips.

And once his full length slid into me, he began to thrust his hips while I arched my back, gasping at the waves of pleasure that tore through my body at the contact.

He pressed his body against mine, our flesh slapping together as our breathing intertwined. Like a chant, he kept groaning my name, sinking in deeper and deeper until it felt like he wanted to consume me entirely.

All the while, I could only moan his name in response as his hot breath brushed my face and my nails dug into his back skin, leaving bruises.

“Faster, Rafael,” I ordered, desperate.

I’d expected him to be irritated at my request, but instead, he heeded my words, driving into me faster and faster, until my body started to jerk uncontrollably underneath him as my orgasm washed over me.

But he didn’t stop. He continued his wild thrusts, the tip of his dick brushing against my clit and causing me to gasp and mutter a curse.

The pleasure he always gave me was impossible to explain—but beyond that, there was a hollow feeling in my heart and a deeper longing remained.

Hours later, Rafael left for work, as he usually did. I was disappointed in myself when I realized I had missed the chance to get him to talk. As he cuddled me after we had sex, I found myself opening up and telling him everything about Brandon.

He surprisingly didn’t seem angry as he let me speak while gently stroking my hair.

But even though I poured my heart out to him, expecting him to reciprocate, he simply promised to meet with Brandon just to get to know him—and said nothing until I fell asleep on the sofa, only waking up moments later to find that he had washed me, wrapped me in my robe, and laid me back on the bed.

To say I was disappointed was an understatement.

I was heartbroken.

The constant ringing of the doorbell pulled me out of my sinking thoughts as I sat upright, resting my head against the headboard.

If it were Rafael, I reckoned he wouldn’t need to ring the doorbell to his own home.

Grudgingly, I made my way down the stairs, wondering if it was Brandon. Though Brandon was never one to pop out of the blue—he always let me know prior. In his words, he didn’t want to get punched in the face by my broodingly devilish husband.

My brows furrowed when I approached the tinted glass doors of the house to find Rafael’s assistant standing outside of it.

Thanks to the tinted glass, she couldn’t see me and kept ringing the doorbell. I watched her for a moment as a pang of jealousy hit my gut again.

She was strikingly beautiful and always managed to look sharp in the black suit skirts she wore, which accentuated her curves.

And though glasses obscured her cerulean blue eyes, they couldn’t hide their intensity. I wondered what she wanted. It was the first time she had come over, and it annoyed me to know she even knew where Rafael lived.

With a sigh, I entered the passcode, and the door slid open, giving me a clearer view of her features.

A polite smile spread across her face as she now clasped her hands behind her back, tendrils of bleached blonde hair wisping from her sleek bun.

“Mrs. Kamarov,” she addressed me, “I’ve got a message to pass across from your husband.”

I raised a brow. If Rafael had a message for me, calling or texting wouldn’t have been hard. But it really didn’t matter anymore.

My feelings for that man were consuming me, and it was becoming unbearable.

“Okay?” I shrugged, trying not to seem impolite. “What is it?”

“He sent me to let you know that he wouldn’t be making it home tonight. He has work at the office and didn’t want you to be worried in the case he didn’t send a text or call.”

I swallowed a heavy lump, feeling my heart clench.

“And you?” I asked, my voice breaking slightly.

She tilted her head slightly, confusion gracing her features before the intent behind my question dawned on her, and her blue eyes softened.

“I’ll be right at the office too, Mrs. Kamarov. But rest assured—Mr. Kamarov isn’t spending a night away from home for any reason you might be suspicious of.”

She then paused, drawing in a sharp breath. “I understand that it may be tough being married to someone like him, but trust me when I say this, Arlette. Mr. Kamarov isn’t the same man you knew before your wedding. In fact, I believe he started changing right from the moment your paths crossed.”

My breath hitched in my throat at her words. She wasn’t lying, and that fact was obvious. I knew Rafael wasn’t cheating on me or anything like that.

I was just envious that she got to work by his side, knowing everything that I didn’t.

And because she was his assistant, I knew she couldn’t give me the answers I needed.

“Thank you,” I told her sincerely. “Thank you for all your hard work.”

She beamed at me, reaching out her hand for a shake, which I accepted, a smile forming on my face at our supposed newfound alliance.

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Kamarov. Just be a bit more patient,” she advised. “He’s doing this all for you.”

And with that, she pulled her hand away from mine and turned to leave, waving at me with a bright smile on her face.

As I watched her walk away, I couldn’t help but feel ashamed of myself. I always knew Rafael wasn’t an easy man.

Hell, I was lucky he was even indulging me.

But I still wanted more from him, and I was ashamed of myself for that fact.