Page 73 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
The words should have sounded cheesy, but coming from him, they carried weight. This man, who’d built an empire through ruthless ambition, who commanded fear and respect in equal measure, who could end lives with a phone call, held herlike she was precious. Like she was the most important thing in his world.
“Matvei,” she whispered, suddenly overwhelmed by the magnitude of what they’d found together, what they’d almost lost through pride and misunderstanding.
He must have heard something in her voice because his hands came up to frame her face, thumbs brushing across her cheekbones with infinite gentleness. “What is it, little wolf?”
The nickname made her smile despite the emotional storm brewing in her chest. “I love you. I know I tell you every day, but I need you to really understand. You changed everything for me. My whole life, I felt like I was fighting to prove I belonged somewhere, that I was strong enough, smart enough, and valuable enough. But with you, I just... am. I don’t have to prove anything because you see me. Really see me.”
His eyes darkened, not with desire but with something deeper. Raw emotion that he rarely lets show. “You saved me,” he said roughly. “I was so focused on power, on winning, that I forgot what any of it was for. You reminded me that some things are worth more than victory.”
When he kissed her, it was with the desperate intensity of a man who’d nearly lost the only thing that made his life make sense. His mouth was hot, possessive, trembling with emotion he couldn’t speak, so he poured it into her instead, one bruising, beautiful kiss at a time.
She melted into him with a needy sound, her fingers clawing at his shirt like she could tear the days apart until only this moment remained. He tasted like wine and longing, like danger and devotion, like a man made of contradictions, wild and protective, ruthless and tender, hers.
“Inside,” she gasped against his lips, voice thick with need and love and ache. “Now.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. His hands were already on her thighs, sliding down to grip her firmly as he lifted her into his arms. Her legs wrapped around him like instinct, her mouth back on his as he carried her through the study, stumbling into walls in their shared urgency.
The bedroom welcomed them in silver moonlight and deep shadow, the quiet humming with the tension between them. He walked her backward to the bed without taking his eyes off her, and when she lay down, it wasn’t gentle. It was reverent, but heavy with hunger that bordered on dangerous.
“This is worship,” he said, voice low, as he knelt beside her. “And I’m not stopping until you remember who you belong to.”
His hand found the zipper of her dress. “Are you sure? The baby—”
She caught his gaze. “We’re fine. I need you, Matvei. All of you.”
The zipper slid down, slow and deliberate. The dress slipped from her shoulders and pooled on the floor, leaving her in black lace that clung to her breasts and framed the curve of her belly.
His eyes darkened. “You’re mine.”
“Then take me.”
He bent to kiss her, deep and consuming, his hands finding her breasts, thumbs teasing until her nipples strained against the lace. Her bra came away, and his mouth replaced his hands, sucking one nipple while his palm kneaded the other.
“You’re already shaking,” he murmured.
“You haven’t even started,” she said, her breath unsteady.
That earned her a growl. He kissed down her stomach, pausing to press his lips to her belly. “Our baby’s here. And you’re still the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He removed the last of her lace and spread her thighs wide. “Perfect.”
The first stroke of his tongue made her cry out. He licked her slowly at first, then faster, sucking her clit until her hips jerked. Two fingers slid inside her, curling and stroking until she was clutching the sheets.
“Matvei—”
“Say it.”
“I need you inside me.”
He rose, stripped bare, and guided himself to her. The first thrust had them both groaning, and he sank in all the way, holding there for a beat before pulling out and driving in again.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he said through gritted teeth.
Her legs wrapped around his waist. “Harder.”
He obeyed, his thrusts picking up speed, the bed creaking under them. “Mine,” he growled.
“Yes. Yours,” she gasped.
