Midnight Oath (Tasarov Bratva 1)

The single word is a breath. Barely even a whisper between us.

Her pink lips part. "Wha—no! No, I won't."

"Not for that," I say, pressing myself against her until I can feel her heartbeat against my rib cage. "Though, if you calm down, we can discuss it later. I want you to beg to see her. Beg me to let you see Isabella."

Horror spills over her. She goes slack, sagging against me even as she tilts her head back. Trying to get a better look. To see if I'm serious.

"What kind of sick—"

"The kind of sick fuck who holds all the cards," I finish as I step away slowly. "Now, get on your knees and beg."

Color rises in her cheeks. Her eyes shimmer with tears. I'm not sure if it's from frustration or fear, but either works for me.

Whatever helps her realize she has no power in my world.

The tears reveal the shades of green in her eyes, emerald and sage with shots of gold.

"You know something? You look pretty when you cry."

Anger flames in her again. She lunges towards me. I step aside, letting her momentum carry her tumbling forward. Then I follow behind and press her face-first into the wall.

Even still, she doesn’t give up. Emery is like a wild horse, bucking me every step of the way. But she's losing energy. Soon, she'll realize it's easier to give in. To let me mount her as I please.

Devilish images flood my mind. Emery's fire is inconvenient, but it's doing it for me in the worst kind of way. When we do finally combust, God…

What a fuck it will be.

"You're wasting time. Yours and mine," I rasp in her ear. "There's only one way this ends: I win. So you have two choices. Get on your knees and beg… or get out."

She sets her jaw. I'm sure she's charging up for another struggle. But then, she goes limp. I step away.

Slowly, slowly, slowly, she slides down the wall.

Until she's on her knees.

Until she’s turning, looking up at me with her jaw clenched tight. Wondering if this is enough.

But it won't ever be enough.

Not when I can see the curve of her waist down to her hips.

Not when her chest heaves and I can see her nipples poking through the fabric of her shirt.

Not when she’s here and submissive and mine.

This woman was made to be on her knees in front of me.

I arch a brow, waiting. “Well?”

"Please," she says, her voice barely more than a whisper.

I tilt my head and hold a hand to my ear. "What was that?"

She swallows. I want to wrap my fingers around her throat. Feel her pulse under my thumb.

She swallows and tries again. "Please," she says hoarsely. "Please, Adrik. I'm begging you."

I'm painfully hard. The urge to release myself and take her is…

But no. I can't. Won't, actually.

I get what I want. And I will have Emery.

But not until she wakes up and faces that inevitability. Not until she asks for me.

This is good enough for now.

I turn on my heel and walk away from her. I don't hear any movement, so I glance back. "That wasn't so hard, was it?"

She narrows her eyes, but before she can undo all of our progress with her own damn stubbornness, I wave her forward.

"Follow me."