Page 43 of Cruel Russian Pakhan
She must’ve seen it written all over my face. She started to reach for my hand, then stopped halfway, fingers curling back into her lap.
“Lev,” she said softly, “you don’t have to feel guilty about the interview. I gained something much more.”
Her gaze held mine, sadness flickering in her eyes, before it disappeared, and she smiled. “I’m happy I found my family. Besides Daisy and Arnold, I've never really felt like I belonged anywhere. Now, I have a chance at that, and I can’t wait to meet them. I can't wait to…belong.”
After dinner, we strolled in the cool evening air. I slipped my jacket over her shoulders without a word. And when we returned to the house, I helped her out of the car and walked her to her room in silence.
When we stopped at her door, she turned to face me.
“Thank you for tonight. I had a really nice time.”
I smiled back at her and gave a small nod. “It was my pleasure.”
She stepped closer to me and palmed one side of my face. I felt her fingers tremble against my cheek as she leaned in hesitantly before tiptoeing and kissing the other.
“Good night.” She lowered her hands, stepped back and then walked into her room, shutting the door behind her.
Tonight, I could barely contain myself being so close to her. But now? After she willingly put her lips on me? All bets were off. I couldn't resist her anymore.
I stormed into the room and went straight for her. She turned at the sound, her lips parting, surprise flickering across her face. I didn’t give her time to question it.
My hands found her face, and I kissed her. Not soft. Not sweet. I kissed her like I owned her—which, legally, I still did.
My control, something I wielded like a blade—the little that was left after spending hours with her—snapped a bit more the second her lips touched mine. She whimpered and opened to me, and I nearly lost it right there.
She was ice and fire, and I was done pretending I wasn’t burning. Done pretending I didn't want to break down her icy walls and feel her warmth.
Katya had no idea what she’d done to me. Was doing to me. Since the day she entered my world, she’d carved herself into my mind, crept beneath my skin like a curse I didn’t want lifted.
And tonight, I was finally going to claim what already belonged to me.
My thumbs swept along her jaw, as I deepened the kiss. I felt her pulse thundering under the surface, matching the beat of mine.
She tasted like the wine she drank earlier: rich, sweet, and sinful.
But it wasn’t just her taste. It was her scent. Her skin. The way she trembled under my hands. Just like the wine, she was intoxicating, potent and dangerous.
And fuck, I was drunk on her.
I craved her with a desperation I didn’t recognize, didn’t want to. More than power. More than vengeance. More than anything I’d ever taken in this brutal life of mine.
Katya wasn’t just a woman. She was a vice. A weakness. My weakness.
And I was ready to lose myself in her completely.
My hands slid down her bare spine and back up again, finding the clasp at the nape of her neck. Once undone, the dress surrendered, and I pushed it down, revealing bare skin and the swell of her breasts. I didn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t. Her moan vibrated against my mouth when my fingers found her hardened nipples, and her back arched so perfectly it made my cock twitch against the fabric of my pants.
I needed to see her. I had to.
I pulled back just enough to look, and fuck, the sight of her made my knees nearly buckle.
Her breasts rose and fell in sharp little gasps, nipples flushed and tight, begging for my mouth. My control snapped one thread further.
I dropped my head and took one into my mouth, groaning when her hand dove into my hair and tugged hard. My free hand pinched and played with the other, and she writhed beneath me like she didn’t know whether to pull me closer or cry out.
Her knees gave slightly, and I caught her, guiding her backward until the backs of her thighs hit the bed. I eased her down, covering her with kisses as I followed her to the center of the bed.
I continued my assault on her breasts, alternating between suckling and teasing, watching and hearing her come apart beneath my mouth and hands.
