Page 74 of Forced Marriage to the Cruel Bratva Pakhan
“Then don’t maintain it.” I reach for his shirt, pulling it over his head before working on his belt. “Show me what happens when Pavel Rudenko loses control.”
He catches my wrists before I can open his pants. “You want to see me without control? Without the discipline that keeps me functional?”
“Yes.” I meet his gaze steadily. “I want all of you, Pavel. Not just the calculated, strategic leader. I want the man underneath—the one who feels and wants and needs.”
Something breaks in his expression. He releases my wrists and finishes removing his clothes with efficient speed, then backs me toward the wall beside the bed.
“This is what you want?” He presses me against the cool surface, his body covering mine. “Me without filters or restraint?”
“Yes.”
He captures my mouth in a bruising kiss, one hand pinning my wrists above my head while the other slides between my thighs. When his fingers find me wet and ready, he groans.
“So responsive.” He circles my clit with maddening precision. “Tell me what you need, Serena.”
“You.” The word comes out breathless.
He doesn’t make me wait. He lifts one of my legs, hooking it over his hip before positioning himself and pushing inside in one smooth thrust.
We both groan at the sensation—the stretch, the fullness, the perfect friction as he fills me completely.
“Move,” I demand when he pauses. “Pavel, please move!”
He sets a rhythm that’s immediately intense—hard, deep strokes that drive me back against the wall with each thrust. His hand releases my wrists to grip my hip instead, holding me steady while he takes what he needs.
“This what you wanted?” he asks roughly. “Me losing control? Fucking you like I can’t wait?”
“Yes!” My hands find his shoulders, nails digging in for purchase.
He shifts the angle slightly, and the new position makes me cry out. He’s hitting spots that make coherent thought impossible, pleasure building with frightening intensity.
“That’s it,” he encourages, his rhythm becoming erratic. “Come for me, Serena. Show me you’re mine.”
The orgasm crashes through me without warning, pleasure so intense it borders on painful. I cry out his name, my inner muscles clenching around him rhythmically.
He follows seconds later, burying himself deep while his release pulses into me. The intimacy of it—being filled and claimed and marked as his—sends another smaller aftershock rippling through me.
We stay locked together for several long moments, both breathing hard, sweat-slicked and trembling.
Finally Pavel pulls out carefully and lowers my leg back to the floor. My knees immediately buckle, and he catches me with one arm around my waist.
“I’ve got you,” he murmurs, guiding me the few steps to the bed.
We collapse onto the mattress together, tangled limbs and racing hearts. He pulls me against his side, and I settle there with my head on his chest where I can hear his heartbeat gradually slowing.
“That was…” I struggle for adequate description.
“Intense,” he finishes.
We lie there in comfortable silence while my mind processes everything that’s shifted between us. The marriage that started as coercion evolving into genuine partnership. The captor becoming lover. The forced proximity transforming into chosen intimacy.
“Pavel?” I break the quiet after a while.
“Mm?”
“Thank you for protecting me.”
Chapter Twenty-Six - Pavel
