Page 51 of The Bratva's Nanny
Maria Simmons might have hated my guts, wanted nothing to do with me, and, at this very moment, desired to punch me in the face, but one fact was for sure: She respected me.
I eyed her, allowing my gaze to sweep from the top of her dark hair with blonde highlights at the tips down the short length of her orange dress to the nude paint on her toenails.
Mine.
“You belong to me.”
“No, I don’t. I don’t belong to anyone. Not you, not Finn, not anyone! Do you understand?” she fired back with no hesitation but wasn’t prepared when I rose to my feet.
She faltered backward like a scared kitten.
I snaked an arm around her waist, pulled her flush against my chest, and sniffed her. The tip of my nose brushed her nape, and shudders ran down her spine.
Shudders ran down my spine. She smelled good, edible. Like natural fragrance and cookies.
I sniffed harder, already drawn in and intoxicated.
“Allow me to make it clear,” my growl rumbled on her bare collarbone, and my cock twitched at the declaration. “You belong to me.”
With my other hand, I traced the stiffness of her spine, molded the curve of her ass through the thick fabric, and smacked the softness. She yelped, and I pressed my lips over hers, swallowing her pain.
“Your lips, your hair, your quivering pussy…every fucking part of you, I marked as mine. No one, Maria. No fucking person has the right to touch what’s mine without my permission. Do you understand?”
She panted, and her eyes shimmered.
But I wasn’t letting her go that easily.
“Do you understand me, Maria?” She nodded, and I cupped her cheeks and lightly caressed the bruise on her neck. “Does it still hurt?”
She shook her head and returned a soft, “No.”
I lowered my head, planted a kiss on the faded purple-black spot, and enjoyed the sound of her soft sigh when I flicked my tongue over the bruise.
“Do you want me to let you go?
She bunched a fistful of my shirt, whimpering. She didn’t say anything, but I knew her answer. I heard it in the sound of her heart thrashing against my chest, like a wild animal in a cage seeking release. She wanted this as much as I did. Letting go was not an option.
This insane connection between us—I knew she felt it, too. And why the thought of that made my dick hard, I didn’t know.
“You gave him a hundred grand,” she whispered. “I owed fifty.”
Dazed, and completely mesmerized by the sound of her voice, I kissed her jaw, sucking on the skin hard enough to leave a faint mark.
God, I wanted to gobble her up.
“You’re worth a lot more, Solnishko.”
I gripped her thighs, hoisted her from the ground, and placed her on the edge of the desk. I straddled her body and pressed my thighs between her legs.
Her warm gaze fell to my lips, and she traced them with a thumb. “That word…what did it mean?”
It meant Little Sun. Because, somehow, I knew deep down that this woman—this feisty, confident, beautiful woman—was my match.
The shining sun to my darkness.
She was the healing balm to soothe my ache.
We were so close, almost bumping nostrils, so I could see her curiosity as clear as day. She believed it was an endearment, but I wasn’t going to reveal any more that I already had.