Page 34 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” she said, and the certainty in her voice was all the permission he needed.
He kissed his way back down her body, taking his time, using his mouth and hands to build her pleasure slowly, carefully, until she was writhing beneath him, desperate and needy and completely lost to sensation. Only when she was trembling on the edge, only when she was gasping his name like it was the only word she knew, did he finally give her what they both wanted.
The first touch of his tongue to her center made her cry out, her back arching off the bed as pleasure crashed through her. He worked her carefully, thoroughly, using everything he’d learned about her body to drive her higher and higher until she was sobbing with need.
“Please,” she gasped, her hands fisting in his hair. “Please, I can’t... I need...”
“I know,” he murmured against her, his voice rough with his own need. “Let go for me, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
He added his fingers again, stretching her carefully while his mouth continued its relentless assault, and he could feel the moment she finally broke, her body going rigid as pleasure crashed through her like a tidal wave. She came apart in hisarms, crying out his name as her body shook with the force of her release, and he held her through it, gentling her with soft touches and whispered words of praise.
When she finally went limp against the sheets, her breathing slowly returning to normal, he pressed one last kiss to her inner thigh before moving up to gather her in his arms. She came willingly, curling into his chest like she belonged there, and for a moment, everything else faded away. The complications, the rivalries, the dangerous games they were all playing, none of it mattered. There was only this, only her, only the perfect weight of her in his arms.
“That was…” she began, then trailed off, apparently at a loss for words.
“Your first,” he finished for her, the knowledge sitting heavy in his chest. “I should feel guilty about that.”
“You should,” she agreed, tilting her head back to look at him. “But do you?”
He considered the question seriously, taking stock of his emotions. Guilt was there, yes, but it was overshadowed by something else, something fiercer and more possessive.
“No,” he said finally, his voice rough with honesty. “I should, but I don’t. I’m glad it was me. I’m glad I was the one to give you that.”
She smiled then, slow and satisfied, and he realized she’d gotten the answer she was hoping for again.
“Good,” she said, pressing a kiss to his chest. “Because I wouldn’t want it to be anyone else.”
The simple words hit him harder than they should have, settling into his chest like a warm weight. This was dangerous territory, he knew. Caring about her beyond the physical,beyond the strategic, beyond the careful boundaries he’d tried to maintain. But as she curled closer to him, her breathing evening out as exhaustion claimed her, he found he didn’t care about the danger.
For the first time in years, he was exactly where he wanted to be.
The realization should have terrified him. Instead, it filled him with a kind of peace he’d never experienced before. Whatever came next, whatever consequences they would face, he would always have this, the memory of her choosing him, trusting him, falling apart in his arms like she’d been made for him.
His phone buzzed on the nightstand, the sound harsh in the quiet room. He ignored it, focusing instead on the woman in his arms, but when it buzzed again, insistently, he knew he couldn’t put it off any longer.
Careful not to wake her, he reached for the device, his blood cooling when he saw the name on the screen.
Ilya Nikolai.
The text was brief and to the point: “This isn’t over. Not by a long shot.”
Matvei stared at the message for a long moment, feeling the weight of reality settling back onto his shoulders. The dinner tonight had been a warning shot, a carefully orchestrated reminder that he was playing a dangerous game with dangerous people. Irina’s brothers wouldn’t give up easily, wouldn’t accept that she’d chosen to stay with him without a fight.
And then there was his own family to consider, his own responsibilities and obligations. His partnership with the group that had orchestrated Irina’s kidnapping was supposed to givehim the leverage he needed to finally destroy the Nikolais once and for all. But lying here with her in his arms, feeling her breath against his chest and her trust in every relaxed line of her body, the idea of using her against her family made him feel sick.
He was falling for her. Had already fallen, if he was being honest. And that changed everything.
Another buzz, another message, this one from a number he didn’t recognize: “Hope you enjoyed your dinner. Things are about to get interesting.”
A chill ran down his spine as he realized what this meant. His partner in crime was getting impatient, was ready to move to the next phase of their plan. The problem was, Matvei was no longer sure he wanted any part of it.
He looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, her face peaceful in the dim light from the window, and felt something shift inside his chest. She’d accused him earlier of seeing her as property, of treating her like a commodity to be bought and sold. She’d been wrong about that, but she’d been right about something else; he had been protecting her from the truth about why she was really here.
The guilt he’d been keeping at bay crashed over him like a cold wave. She trusted him completely, had given herself to him with a generosity that humbled him, and he was lying to her about everything that mattered. About why he’d really bought her at that auction, about his plans for her family, about the partnership that was supposed to destroy everything she held dear.
He was going to have to tell her the truth eventually. And when he did, there was a very good chance she would never forgive him.
The thought made his chest tight with something that felt suspiciously like panic. He’d spent his entire adult life believing that power was more important than anything else, that family loyalty trumped personal desire, that love was a luxury he couldn’t afford. But holding her now, feeling the trust in her relaxed body and remembering the way she’d chosen him despite everything, he realized that maybe he’d been wrong about what really mattered.
