Page 13 of Sinful Union

“You approve?” he asks.

“It’s nice.”

I hear him chuckle as I walk farther in, pretending to admire the view when, really, I just need to get my head on straight. I don’t plan on sleeping with him tonight—or ever. But standing here, remembering how he felt, how he tasted, how easily he made me come all those years ago, my body has different ideas. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing the memories away.

Pavel was gentle that night, careful. He touched me like I was something precious, something he wanted to protect, to savor. I’d heard horror stories from other girls about how painful the first time could be, but he made it sweet and tender. I shake my head, pushing the thought away. No more thinking about the past.

Before anything happens, I need to freshen up, get out of this dress, get the poison.

End this.

As I turn, ready to excuse myself, Pavel is already there, holding out a glass of champagne. My breath catches as I stare up at him, his blue eyes burning into mine like he can hear my thoughts. Slowly, I take the glass, my fingers brushing his as I do. There’s too much heat, too much history.

We sip in silence, the energy between us so thick it’s nearly suffocating. I try to look away, to focus on anything else, but it’s impossible. His gaze holds me, keeps me rooted in place, his presence swallowing me whole.

When I lower my glass from my lips, he takes it from my hand, setting it aside before stepping closer. I don’t move. I don’t even breathe. He kisses me, not like before, not teasing, not testing. This kiss is claiming.

And, at that moment, I know I don’t have the strength to resist him.

Chapter 6

Kat

Ishould stop this now.

I’m here for one specific reason, and sex isn’t it. But before I can even think, Pavel’s hands are on me, his lips tracing a slow, devastating path down my neck, causing every rational thought to vanish in an instant.

“Tell me to stop,” he says, as if sensing my inner turmoil.

I don’t. I can’t. “I… I…”

His mouth is at my collarbone, his fingers sliding over the delicate lace of my dress, teasing along the edge of the fabric like he has all the time in the world. He’s not rushing; he’s waiting. I hate that he still knows me so well. I tip my head back slightly, my breath uneven as his mouth ghosts over my skin. “Pavel…”

It’s supposed to be a warning, but it comes out like a plea, like I’m begging him for more.

Perhaps I am.

His hands slide up my sides, fingers skimming my ribs, slow and controlled. He’s holding back, giving me time to rebuff him.

“You’re shaking,” he says against my throat, his lips barely touching my skin. “Are you afraid of me?”

Yes.

But fear isn’t what’s making me tremble.

“Not afraid,” I breathe, my voice barely above a whisper.

His lips curve against my skin, satisfied. “Good.”

Then his mouth descends, his tongue tracing the hollow of my throat before he bites down, just hard enough to make me gasp. My hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of his suit, anchoring myself against the sheer force of him. He lifts his head, his gaze sharp, searching.“Last chance, Kat.”

I hate him for giving me a choice. I grip the front of his shirt, twisting the fabric in my fists.“Don’t stop.”

His mouth crashes into mine, no hesitation, no restraint, just raw and consuming hunger. His hands slide down my back, cupping my ass as he pulls me against him. The hard length of his erection presses against my stomach through his slacks. I whimper as he groans into my mouth.

He lifts me up and carries me through the suite, never breaking the kiss. It’s as if he owns me, like he always has. That thought should terrify me, but instead, it makes me ache.

He lowers me onto the bed, his body covering mine in an instant, pressing me into the soft mattress. The weight of him, the feel of him, the scent of him…it’s all so intoxicating. My heart begins to beat faster, and I can feel my pulse everywhere.

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