Taken by the Bratva Prince (Mafia Bad Boys: The Ismailovs Book 1) by jailaa west

Author:jailaa west [west, jailaa]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: jai latte romance books
Published: 2022-04-14T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 7

Hannah twisted her hands between his arms and yanked them apart. One week of martial arts training and she still couldn’t throw him. Oh, she’d kissed the mat… a lot. The night after the big truce, the night she’d confessed all, he’d changed. Not softened, but changed. There was no other way to describe it other than the night of the truce. She’d confessed all and been surprised by his shock. He really hadn’t known.

After their truce, he hadn’t touched her again outside of the workout room. Was she tainted in his eyes? Ashamed of her. If she had been a rape victim, his withdrawal would have devastated her. Was he giving her a reprieve because he felt guilty? She’d accused him of forcing her. Lying to him even when she couldn’t lie to herself. She’d craved his touch. Even on the first day, she battled herself more than him. Now she lay on the floor and focused her eyes on the tiles of the training room. Catching her breath and wallowing in her confusion before he came over.

“Ok, alsinjabi, get up little squirrel.”

He extended his hand. Was this the only way he’d touch her anymore? She sighed. Fighting his desire had been difficult. Fighting his compassion, impossible. Best to think he pitied her. Hannah swatted his hand away and rebounded onto her feet with a jump. She squinted her eyes at him. She could fight his pity all day.

“Again, takrran.”

“Do you need a breather?”

“Giving me a break? Don’t tell me you’re going soft.”

He nodded, “You’re right. Our enemies won’t show any mercy, and neither will we.”

“Do you think I’ll ever need to use this?”

“No. I’ll always stand between you and our enemies. But if they ever get through me. My woman will give as good as she gets.”

“Do all the Ismailov women go through this training?”

“No. Women are used for two reasons only.” His heavy shoulders dropped, and his voice deepened. “But these are not those times or that place. Women have rights.”

“It’s not a dirty word.”

“Tell that to my pride. Even in the ring, women are fighting and winning. Fighting as warriors. My mother used to tell me there is a strength in being weak and I never understood until the other day.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Technically, you were in the weaker position. Nothing you could do, but you still stood up to him. Defied him. Helped Yelena and defied the Ismailovs. Defied me…”

“Don’t make me more than I am.”

“Fierce squirrel.” His hand cupped her cheek. The warmth returning like a long-lost lover. She laid into the palm and nuzzled. Damn, she’d missed his touch. “Don’t make yourself less than you are.”

Their eyes held before he traced her suddenly dry lips. She heard the soft moaning invitation issued from her lips. Needy. He didn’t move. Her neck lengthened, stretching towards him. But his eyes only lifted back to hers before stepping back. Seeking but not finding. Her heart sank. Was this what they were now?

She stomped to the center of the ring.

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