Page 21 of Trapped By the Bratva
“If I ask for your cooperation, I expect it. I’m here to help you regain your former strength, but the only way that’s possible is if you put in the work.”
He stared at me, mulish. “Don’t act like a superior bitch.”
“I’m not. I’m laying down the law?—”
“The law?” He grunted a harsh laugh. “Your law?”
“Are you an expert at therapy?”
“No more than you are.”
“I’ve trained plenty. I recognize how tight and tense you are. How limited your range of motion is where you’ve had reconstructive surgery. You need?—”
He gripped my wrist, stilling my massaging motion. “Don’t think you have any right to tell me what I need.”
His fingers weren’t too tight to cause pain, but he held me firmly in place. I was aware that he was strong, even though he was weak from multiple injuries. His gesture wasn’t intended to hurt me, but to make a point. A display of power, and it pissed me off.
“All right, let’s get something straight. The only way this is going to work is if you get your head out of your ass. I’m not here to argue. I’m only here to help you.”
Saying that felt like a lie. Of course, I wanted to assist him and see him get better. At the same time, I wanted to simply be near him. Now that I’d crossed paths with him again, I wanted to learn more about him and who he was. He’d given me such an instant sense of dominating security the first time I saw him that I wished for it again. It was a one-eighty, a drastic difference to see him like this, all grumpy and broody.
Yet, he didn’t make me feel less secure. I wasn’t afraid.
“I want to help you regain what you had before you…” I frowned, at a loss for words.
“Before I was tortured.” He said it so dryly, stoic about it like it was an ordinary experience.
Tortured?I fought the urge to frown. First, he was on the scene when someone was kidnapping a baby. Then he ordered me to not contact Becca. Now, he was telling me that someone had tortured him?
I suddenly wasn’t sure if I wanted to know who this rugged man was. He certainly led a dangerous life, and I didn’t need more problems in mine.
I cleared my throat, unable to show my fear or give up on him. “I’m here to help you. You need my help.”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Becca said on the way here that you fell. I will be here to assist you, and we’ll work together to get you more mobile.”
His intense stare wasn’t going to break me.
“You need my help,” I repeated.
With a swift tug, he pulled me off my feet. One-handed, he maneuvered me from leaning over him to lying on my side next to him on the big bed. I landed with a rushed exhale, startled both by his strength to pull that off and that he dared to get me up here.
This wasn’t professional. Not at all. This wasn’t part of how I intended to help him or aid his progress to a complete recovery.
Leaning on my side, I caught my breath and scowled at him. He’d held on to me, gripping my chin between his finger and thumb. Staring at him felt risky, but I couldn’t look away from the wicked heat in his eyes. “You want me to show you want a man needs from a woman like you?” he taunted.
I furrowed my brow as he tugged me to come closer. Again, he didn’t inflict pain with his forceful grip on my chin. His touch held command, but I was unharmed. It was the deep intensity of his green stare that prompted me to obey.
He insisted that I shift over toward him. With my chin in his hand, I had to brace myself on the bed. Placing my hand on the mattress made it easier to crawl to him, but I was too slow to register that his quick pull implied what he wanted.
A kiss. He slammed his lips to mine with a punishing harshness, but it didn’t frighten me. Hard but soft. Warm and wet. His lips brushed against mine, demanding that I part them. The second I did, he tightened his hold on me and urged me to come closer.
I gasped in surprise at first. It was unexpected. His kissing me, so unashamedly and with control, was the very last thing I could have counted on. It was also the number-one thing that I knew I shouldn’t be participating in.
I did. Pushing him back and stopping this insanity didn’t enter my mind.
A dormant desire burned brighter under his hungry lips, and I gave as good as I got. He growled as he swept his tongue through my mouth, chasing my tongue and stealing a taste.
As he slid his fingers past my chin, tracing along my jawline, I shivered at his callused touch. Without his forceful hold on me, I had the freedom to back away. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. After allthat time of thinking about him and wondering who he was, it was a crime to consider stopping this addictive touch.
