Page 33 of The Russian Pakhan's Forced Bride
With that pleasant haze taking up space in my head, he looks far too appealing to pass up.
The city comes to life while the driver guides us on, but with the liquor humming in my bloodstream, I’m more focused on the strong presence beside me.
Roman is silent in his seat, exuding as much self-control as he can muster, and he doesn’t take his eyes off me for even a moment.
We’re situated closely in the back of the SUV, but not close enough to touch. Even so, I can feel his warmth, along with the palpable tension between us. It’s alive and so loud it commands my complete attention.
For all my previous anger and resentment toward him, everything feels different. Clearer.
I can’t forget the way it felt to have his hands on me, or his body pressed against mine.
I don’t know how or when it started, but my mind has been solely on him and the silent promise of what might spark between us.
As much as I should ignore the burning in me and return to hating him, I just want him. I’m already in too deep, and something about him is far too intriguing. Too appealing.
Even if he’s dangerous and comes from a world I have no business being anywhere near, I can’t bring myself to care.
With a renewed sense of confidence, I face him and notice the way his jaw tenses slightly.
“I had fun…”
His gaze is purposefully unreadable, and I can tell he’s trying not to give away his hand too soon, even if it’s obvious he’s feeling just as worked up as I am.
“No wonder…you were drunk.”
“And?”
Seemingly scrutinizing me, Roman still doesn’t let his mask slip. Instead, he maintains a newfound self-restraint that looks so breakable. He doesn’t answer.
“Somehow, I think you liked it,” I murmur, looking him over as I feel myself closing in on his personal space. “…Even if you want to pretend like you’re completely unaffected.”
There’s another beat of silence, and while he wants me to believe he’s unfazed by my advances, I know he’s trying to hold back. He’s trying to keep a grip on himself.
“You’re far too presumptuous,” Roman says, not-so-subtly letting his eyes roam over my features.
“And you’re suddenly surprisingly composed…at least, that’s what you’re trying to convince me of.”
As the words leave me, I move a little closer until our breath starts to mingle, and despite himself, his hitches, even just slightly.
I can’t keep my attention away from his lips long enough to restrain myself, and as I slowly close more of that space, he doesn’t push me away.
“But if you ask me…” I hum, letting my lips pull as my nose brushes against his. “I think you’re barely holding back.”
A soft breath escapes him, and it feels like a quiet confirmation. An admittance without words.
Then, my lips press against his.
Roman initially locks up, but with a flicker of consideration, he eases into it.
With that hesitation behind him, he kisses me back while he reaches for me, sliding a hand around my waist.
At once, his mouth is hot and everywhere at once. It’s too perfect. Too warm, inviting, and completely addicting. That firm grip on me sends a shiver down my spine, and for a moment, nothing else exists.
It’s only us and the heat exchanged between us. The easy relinquishing of resistance and absolute need.
Losing myself in the hunger of it all, the kiss deepens, and my body surrenders to him. Calls to him, even.
With nothing but him surrounding me, I run my fingers through his hair and catch the ends, using them as leverage to keep his face as close as possible.
