Page 37 of The Pakhan

My warped mind started thinking about how many beautiful women he’d kissed. God knew I didn’t qualify as one of those flighty girls I’d seen on his arm in glossy photographs in internet magazines.

I was blown away, struggling to find a piece of my mind so I could understand what was happening between us. The phrase ‘this has danger written all over it’ was right there, my little voice laughing at me at the same time. I’d made a promise to myself long ago that I would never, ever lose my heart to a man.

And that I’d never give my body easily. I wasn’t that kind of girl.

But here I was melting in Vadim’s arms as he held my chin with one hand, planting his other against the wall and crushing the weight of his massive body against me.

Including his hard, throbbing, and dangerously delicious cock.

I was crazed inside, my pussy throbbing. Nothing and no one had heated my core this way. No man. No fantasy. No vibrator. This was nuts but oh-so delicious.

It was easy to surrender to his prowess and as he finally thrust his tongue inside, exploring every inch of my mouth, every muscle started to relax. I was one with him, our passion roaring like lions. And I loved it.

Wrong. So wrong.

But what did I care?

I was so aroused my pussy was throbbing, my mind was fuzzy and my eyes were blurry enough stars floated in front of them. There was definitely something to the observation that older men were experts in handling their women. Oh, listen to my wacked-out mind.

He’d just told me I was his prisoner for as long as he deemed it necessary. I finally had enough chutzpa to shove my palms against him, but did I really think I could push away a massive object like the man refusing to let go?

Not a chance.

I was his for the taking and something in the back of my mind was thrilled.

When he sucked on my tongue, I was even more lightheaded, butterflies swarming my stomach. Yes, this was raw passion wild and unconstrained.

And I liked it.

What was I saying? I was more excited than I’d been in all of my life.

When he finally did break the kiss, we were both breathless. He used a single finger to lift my chin, making animalistic noises as he studied me before lowering his head and dragging his tongue from one side of my jaw to the other.

I couldn’t stop tingling all over, finally realizing the strange noise I was hearing was the sound of my strangled moans. The man had already turned me into mush. What would I be like in ten minutes? An hour? A day?

He brushed the tip of his tongue to my ear, nipping my earlobe. There were no words said, no promises made. When he took a step away, I found myself reaching for him. Needing him.

Craving him.

Lightning appeared all around us, my heart racing. “I hate storms,” I whispered, fighting my nerves for so many reasons.

“Don’t worry. I will protect you.”

The man was a picture of carnal pleasure and danger all wrapped up in a neat package. I found it difficult to breathe around him or to think clearly. “You can’t keep me as a prisoner.”

“Yes, I can if for no other reason than your safety.”

Larger than life. The three words described him perfectly. Maybe too much so. Yes, he was all powerful, the kind of man who took what he wanted without question, capable of ending lives with no conscience.

He was also rugged, sensual, and carved to perfection. I couldn’t believe I was still thinking of him as an object of desire instead of the man who could erase everything I’d worked to achieve in the blink of an eye.

But I was forced to remind the angry and confused girl inside of me that I’d come to him and not the other way around.

The expression he wore was one of a possessive carnivore. In a few short seconds, he gathered me into his arms, taking long strides out of the room.

And to my surprise, I didn’t bother to object.

His gait was even, his expression remaining primal, hungry. My heart refused to stop fluttering, the sinful thoughts rushing through my mind the things erotic romance was made of. I shouldn’t be thinking this way. I should be ashamed.

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