Page 52 of Brutal Reign
Pavel tilts his head, his expression unreadable. “That’s a story for another day. Someone’s waiting for us now.”
With that, his palm lands on the small of my back and nudges me forward into the room. I try to dig in my heels, but there’s no fighting him; he’s too big and powerful.
I don’t know what he plans to do with me, but if he wanted me dead, he had his chance and didn’t take it. The only thing that matters is staying alive for Kin.
My gaze drifts around the room. It looks like we’re in a sunlit study, with wood-paneled walls lined with books. Everything else fades into the background when I notice a man tied to a chair near the far wall. It’s the priest who was supposed to marry Simon and me. The tape across his mouth muffles his words, but the panicked noises he makes are still audible.
I spin on Pavel. “You tied up the priest? Are you insane?”
He shrugs. “I needed to be sure he wouldn’t run.”
Pavel takes my arm, leading me straight toward the poor man. With a flick of his wrist, he rips the tape off the priest’s mouth. He wheezes in a breath, blinking furiously, sweat glistening on his forehead.
He silently pleads for help, but I can only stare back. I'm just as helpless as he is.
“Marry us and do it quickly,” Pavel commands.
The priest nods and, despite the indignity of being tied to a chair, clears his throat. “We are g-gathered here?—”
“We all know why we’re here,” Pavel says with an impatient gesture. “Skip all the bullshit and get to the good part.”
With a small huff, the priest stammers through a condensed version of the vows. When it’s time for us to exchange rings, Pavel looks around the room until his eyes settle on the desk beside us.
He reaches for something, and presents me with a deep-red ribbon.
With surprising care, he lifts my left hand and wraps the ribbon around my ring finger. I let him put it on me because what else can I do? It’s only a ribbon, and I'll ditch it the first chance I get.
“Hope King,” the priest says. “Do you take Pavel Fedorov to be your husband?”
When the priest looks at me, I stare straight ahead. “No.”
He looks to Pavel in obvious panic.
“Say ‘I do,’” Pavel murmurs in my ear. “Or I’ll use that ribbon to tie you down right here and make you come on my face again and again in front of the priest. Seems rather sacrilegious, don’t you think?”
Even though his threat is obscene, goosebumps break out along my arms and heat spills through my veins. I have no doubt he’ll do what he says.
Through clenched teeth, I say the words he wants to hear. “I do.”
Pavel smirks. “And I fucking do too. Are we married yet?”
The priest looks at me apologetically and nods. “I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
“Hard pass,” I spit, but Pavel doesn’t wait for permission.
He grabs my waist and pulls me against him, using the element of surprise to his advantage. His fingers find my chin, tilting it for better access before his lips land on mine. I’m frozen at first, lips sealed tight, every part of me stiff with resistance.
But he keeps going, working his mouth over mine with all the confidence of a man who knows exactly how to unravel me. And God help me, he does.
His tongue finds mine and strokes it with slow, devastating purpose, like he knows exactly what buttons to push and he’s pressing every single one. He tastes like heat and salt, and something else I can’t name or resist. My lips part wider, my treacherous body lighting up when he sucks on my lower lip, dragging it between his teeth. My body sways forward, even as my brain screams at me to stop.
When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless… and full of self-loathing. “And so you know,” I hiss, trying to salvage some dignity. “I’ll never consider this marriage real.”
And I’ll never stop planning my escape.
His smirk is maddening. “Doesn’t matter. You’ve been mine for a long time. I finally made it official.”
My pulse races. But I know better than to believe his pretty words. Pavel has already proven himself to be a master manipulator.
