Page 35 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
I hated how much I wanted him in that moment.
Lev hooked one leg of my legs around his hip, then the other, lifting me effortlessly. Instinct took over and I wrapped my legs around him, gasping as I felt his hard cock between the thin fabric of my dress and my already damp panties.
I rolled my hips against him, wanting him closer, aching to have him inside me, when a low, hungry growl rumbled from his chest.
“Lev…”
Katya! Stop! What the hell are you doing? He’s throwing accusations like knives and you’re kissing him? This man doesn't care about you! Get it together!
My eyes flew open at the realization and I shoved him with everything I had. He staggered back, startled, dropping my legs. I nearly tripped in my heels but managed to slip away, heart pounding, retreating to the other side of the room. With my arms wrapped tightly around myself, I blinked through the sudden sting of tears. He didn’t move. He just stood there…staring.
Something in my heart told me that if Lev didn’t believe me, that was it. I’d never see the light of day again. He could keep me here and the world wouldn’t blink. The most terrifying part was that the man I was shamefully drawn to, the man who didn’t give a damn about me, held my entire future in his hands. He could twist it, break it, shape it to his will…and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do to stop him.
Chapter 13 - Lev
When Vera’s look-alike shoved me back, I was momentarily stunned, and I let go of her. The space she put between us gave me just enough control to catch my breath.
Then the thoughts hit me all at once.
The idea that she might’ve faked every reaction, that she moaned my name just to sell the lie, sent my mind into a tailspin. And yet, even with fury burning in my chest, I still wanted her. Still needed to touch her. To taste her. To drag the truth out of her body in a way she couldn’t fake.
My hardened length had been pressed between her thighs, my mouth devouring hers, God knows what would’ve happened if she hadn’t pushed me away. I had never craved a woman the way I craved her.
But I couldn’t let her get away with what she did, what she and that bastard Artyom had planned. She expected me to believe she was innocent. But how the hell could I? This could all still be an act. It was no secret I didn’t go hard on women. Maybe that’s why she came back, to exploit that weakness. Maybe Artyom counted on it.
I knew my siblings would have questions, but right now, none of that mattered. All that mattered was the woman standing in front of me, the woman that made me do things that I couldn't quite explain.
I stalked toward her, expecting the usual fire, sharp words, a lifted chin, that damn defiance she wore like armor.
But what I saw instead was fear. And tears.
Tears.
Even when I forced her into marriage, she hadn’t cried. Not once. Now, they slid down her cheeks as she tried to brush them away quickly.
If this was another performance, it was pitiful.
Too bad for her, whatever she thought she could manipulate with those tears, she was wasting her time.
“If you think this little crying game is going to save you,” I said coldly, “you’d better find a new strategy.”
“I thought leaders were supposed to listen!” she snapped, her voice cracking a little more with every word she spoke. “You’re a horrible leader, Lev. You haven’t listened to a single word I’ve said since you walked in!”
I stepped closer, jaw clenched. “And why the hell should I listen to you?”
That’s when her shoulders dropped, and for the first time since I met her, she looked…defeated.
“You know what, Lev?” she whispered, voice breaking. “I’m done. I’m done fighting. Done trying to prove anything to you. It doesn’t matter what I say, you’ve already decided who I am. My life is officially over.”
With that, she sank to the floor, buried her face in her hands, and completely broke apart in front of me.
I’d been waiting for this moment, waiting for her to break, to bend, to fall in line. But now that she had, it didn’t feel like a victory.
It felt like I’d gutted her.
Those tears weren’t fake. They were real. And I was the bastard who caused them.
My fists clenched at my sides. I wanted to go to her, to stop the shaking, to tell her…
