Page 38 of The Pakhan

Yet I wasn’t.

As Vadim carried me down the hall, bypassing my bedroom altogether, I found myself clamping my hand around his shirt. A part of me knew I should stop this before anything happened, but did I really want to?

The answer was easy.

Hell, no.

The spark of electricity was strong, so much so it felt as if a giant web had spun around us, refusing to let go. His eyes were so piercing, the ice blue color accentuating so many traits about him, including the fact he was a dangerous man.

As soon as he walked into the room, the weight of everything that was happening hit me for some crazy reason.

I shook my head, wanting him to kiss me for a second time, to experience the feel of a real man’s passion for hours that night. But words tumbled from my mouth, breaking the intimate moment. “They’re never going to stop. Are they?” I was already like a broken record, still shocked at the events.

He never blinked as he gazed into my eyes, and I was fearful he was looking through me. Then I noticed the change in his pupils, both becoming dilated. When he lifted his hand, brushing a tear from my cheek, I trembled visibly, and I knew he could tell how nervous I was.

Because of him.

But could he also see the hunger that had already formed? Could I allow myself to fall for his prowess, letting go if only for a little while?

I suddenly felt awkward, uncertain of myself.

“No, they won’t, Caroline. What you stumbled on is enough to destroy them. But I promise you that I will stop them. They will never hurt you again.” His voice was darker, sensual yet malevolent.

“But you plan on destroying them. Don’t you?”

He didn’t bother closing his bedroom door, spinning me around in a full yet slow circle. I don’t know what I expected to see, but his furnishings were fit for a king, every piece of furniture dark wood, carved like the sculpted man’s muscles. I could swear the room was meant for pleasure, the king-sized bed high off the floor, the ornate pillars flanking all sides found only in gothic magazines.

As fearful and awkward as I felt around him, this room was comforting. Even romantic.

“I do what’s necessary in my world, little one. But nothing you need to worry about.”

For a second time he’d told me that, as if I couldn’t handle who and what he was. I found myself caressing his chest, taking shallow breaths. “You underestimate me. I’m stronger than I look.”

He chuckled and eased me to my feet, running the tip of his index finger down the side of my face. “That much I already know. Now, hush.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to get you all dirty.”

And as if on cue, the thunder rolled, the entire room lit up with another round of powerful, unhinged electricity. There were no lights on and given the horrific night that now seemed a lifetime ago, I should feel suffocated. Yes, my skin was prickly, but for an entirely different reason.

The man standing in front of me slowly tugged my tee shirt from the tight confines of my jeans. I suddenly no longer felt like a girl with no understanding of the consequences of my decisions.

He was very methodical in his actions, gently pulling the shirt over my head, allowing the cheap material to drop from his fingers.

“Absolyutno krasivyy,” he whispered.

“What?”

“Absolutely beautiful.”

For once, I felt beautiful, perhaps more than any other woman in the world. Another intense shiver coursed through me as he cupped my breasts, flicking his fingers back and forth across my already aching nipples.

Another bolt of fissured lightning.

Another ragged rumble of thunder.

Only part of my intense reaction had to do with the storm.

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