Page 97 of The Bratva King

She doesn’t want to be alone tonight.

I don’t say anything. I just squeeze her hand and lead her to my bedroom.

I open the door and guide her inside. She comes willingly. I close the door behind us and turn to face her.

The security lights cast enough light for me to see her.

“Come here,” I say quietly.

She steps toward me. I cup her face in my hands and kiss her. Soft. Gentle. Nothing like last night. This isn’t about desire. This is about reassurance.

She makes a small sound against my mouth. Her hands come up to grip my shirt.

I pull back just enough to look at her. “You’re safe here.”

“I know.”

“Do you?”

She nods. But I see the doubt in her eyes.

“Gabby, no one gets to touch you again.”

I kiss her again. Deeper this time. Her mouth opens under mine. It’s one emotion I truly do understand. The adrenaline makes you want to feel alive.

My hands slide down to her waist, pulling her closer. She presses against me, her fingers digging into my shoulders. I walk her backward toward the bed.

I look down at her. “Tell me what you need.”

“I don’t know.” Her voice breaks on the last word.

I do.

I lay her back on the bed and stand over her, taking my time. She watches me with wide eyes, chest already rising and falling faster.

“Take it off,” I say. “Slowly.”

Her fingers tremble at the hem of her shirt. I watch her pull it over her head and drop it to the side. She reaches back for her bra clasp.

“I said slowly.”

Her hands still. She looks up at me.

“Every time you rush, I stop.” I bend down, putting my face level with hers. “Understood?”

She nods.

“Say it.”

“Understood.”

I straighten up. “That’s my good girl. Now finish.”

She unclasps it and lets it fall forward off her shoulders. I don’t touch her. I just look. She fights the urge to cover herself. I can see it in the way her arms twitch slightly inward before she forces them still.

“You’re learning,” I say quietly.

I reach down and pull her toward the edge of the bed by her ankle, unhurried, and drag her pants down her legs. She’s left in nothing but thin cotton underwear. I’m buying her lingerie. I file it away for later.