Page 17 of Trapping His Angel
I smiled to myself.
We hopped on the highway. The driver had thrown on soothing classical music, while Isadora stared straight ahead with her arms crossed over her chest. I moved my hand a little higher on her leg, close to her pussy, as I lowered my phone.
I couldn’t think of business when I knew the denim before me was keeping me away from what was mine. The method for which I would extract information from the lead on the street could come later.
Isadora needed my attention now, judging by the swinging of her legs.
Open and closed.
Open and closed.
Open and - I slammed my hand over her mound. Hot and ready for my cock. I leaned to the side and growled in her ear.
“Never wear jeans again,malen'kiy angel,I want easy access to what belongs to me.”
“I-I don’t belong to you,” she panted, her lips parted with desire.
“You do, because I saved you from that hellhole, and I wouldn’t enjoy sending you to another.” The warning was clear.
It hit Isadora like ice, and she stopped rubbing her hot little center against my hand. I withdrew my hand and slid it back to her thigh. She could fight it all she wanted but, while she was in my care, I would fuck her everywhere.
“I don’t belong anywhere,” she whispered, as if she didn’t want me to overhear her. The pain in her voice pulled at my dead heart strings.
“You belong with me,” I promised. I shouldn’t have made one. I couldn’t predict what was going to happen in the future. The Brotherhood was making more and more enemies,especially by holding the daughters of powerful families hostage.
It would work out.
I needed to have more faith in my Pakhan. But when I worked for a literal psychopath, it was hard to have any kind of belief that he could run the organization successfully.
I shrugged off my thoughts as the town car pulled up to the boutique.
I helped the girls out of the car before the driver could. Isadora shoved my hands away as if my touch burned her, her defiance sharp and deliberate. Valentina, ever graceful, used my hands only to steady herself as she stepped out, releasing me like I was some disease she wanted no part of. I smirked, more amused than offended. I knew better than to take it personally.
Roman’s jealousy was a fire that consumed everything it touched, and if anything happened to her, anything at all, he wouldn’t hesitate to end me. Not that I feared him. It was the principle of it. He couldn’t stomach the idea of her being close to anyone but him, and she knew it. They both knew it.
“Have fun, ladies,” I drawled, my voice carrying just enough edge to mask the tension brimming beneath.
I walked them to the front door, my pace unhurried, every step a calculated show of control. Valentina breezed ahead, her heels clicking against the pavement, eager to put distance between us. Isadora lingered, her eyes darting toward me, curiosity flickering there like a dangerous spark she didn’t know how to extinguish.
I caught her gaze and held it, stopping short just as she reached for the door. The way she looked at me, half intrigued, half wary, was a challenge I couldn’t ignore. A slow, knowing smile spread across my face as I stepped into her space, crowding her without hesitation.
“Isadora,” I said, my voice low, her name rolling off my tongue like a warning. She froze, her hand still on thedoorknob, her lips parting as if to speak. Before she could utter a word, I reached for her, my fingers curling firmly around her chin, tilting her face up to mine.
“You think you can keep looking at me like that, and walk away?” I murmured, my breath brushing against her lips. “I don’t think so, angel.”
Before she could protest, I kissed her; not gently, not sweet, but with enough roughness to remind her exactly who she was dealing with. My mouth claimed hers, demanding submission, my grip on her chin tightening as she gasped against me. She stiffened for a moment, her hands pressing against my chest, but I didn’t let up. I kissed her harder, pouring every ounce of frustration and possession into the clash of our lips.
When I finally pulled back, her breathing was ragged, her cheeks flushed. Her eyes burned with something between fury and desire, and it was intoxicating. I ran my thumb over her swollen lips, smirking as I leaned in close enough to feel the heat of her skin.
“Don’t forget who you belong to,” I murmured, my voice rough, a promise laced with threat. “Even if it’s just in your head.”
I straightened, stepping back as if nothing had happened, leaving her standing there, stunned and breathless. Without another word, I turned and walked away, ignoring the curious look she burned into my back.
Valentina knew not to ask questions. Her mind was already on the task at hand, which was getting Isadora a new wardrobe. I wanted mymalen'kiy angelto look, and feel, her best, even if she was still on the skinny side. When she gained more weight, accentuating her curves, I’d buy her another wardrobe.
Money was not a problem.
I headed into the alley on the side of the boutique. My street snitch said that my lead would be here selling the drug. Themen had found nothing but empty vials at The Academy. Headmaster Mikhail was smart enough not to leave behind evidence.