Page 170 of Sinful Blaze

“Here’s the problem, my friend.” Pasha starts to roll up his sleeves. “The fact that you came into my club, assaulted my woman, and just now tried to lie to my face? That cannot be forgiven.”

I stand still and watch. Violence is in the air like humidity, just waiting for an excuse to break out.

I should not be turned on by this.

I should not be feeling a surge of desire when Pasha’s first blow lands in that guy’s gut.

I should not be licking my lips at the sight of him backhanding the creep so hard that a tooth flies out.

Old Daphne would be sobbing in terror.

New Daphne is ready to jump her man’s bones.

Holy fuck, Daphne. Reel it in.

“As much as we’re all enjoying the show, I did just have this carpet shampooed yesterday.” Mak claps a hand on Pasha’s shoulder to stop the next swing. “Want me to move him out back?”

Pasha spits in the guy’s face, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Nah. I’m good.” He looks around until his eyes meet mine.

I don’t know what he expected to see. Fear? Horror? Trepidation? Whatever it was, it’s obviously not what he finds.

Instead, the heat and desire flares in his eyes to match my own.

“Ready to go?”

I can’t get to him fast enough. He pulls me in close and we make our way toward the exit.

Mak holds the door open for us without another word. He winks at me before closing it again, and I hear the lock click into place. The thumps and groans that follow say that the perv’s nightmare is far from over.

“I should turn you over my knee,” Pasha rumbles as we stroll through the hall. “Those pictures…”

“Is there a bathroom nearby?”

He pauses and points at a door. “Don’t take too?—”

I cut him off with another hungry kiss. My hands grab the front of his shirt and pull him with me into the dark room. The only reason why we don’t crash into the sinks is because he spins me around to push me against the back of the door.

“Naughty plamya,” he murmurs as he nips at my neck. “Driving me fucking insane.”

“You love it.”

“Guilty.” Even in the dark, I can still see his wolfish smile.

“Show me.” I grab his hand and press it to the damp heat between my legs. Right where I need him to be. “Mark me. Make me yours.”

“You’re already mine.”

“I know. But I love being reminded.”

Pasha captures my lips with his. He reaches down to lock the door, then spins me around, pins my hands above my head, and kicks my legs apart.

This is what I needed, more than the music and dancing and drinks.

This is exactly what I needed to make me forget.

To lose myself and all my worries.

For now.

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