One hand is laced with mine, the other skimming the curve of my waist as we walk. Every few steps, his fingers trail lower, brushing over my hips, squeezing my ass like heâs claiming me.
âI happen to love your body. Every inch of it.â
A shiver races down my spine. I should be used to this by nowâthe way he strips me bare just with his voice, the way he worships me without hesitation, never apologizing for wanting me. Heâs still a killer. Still the pakhan of one of the most powerful Bratvas. Still a man capable of terrible, brutal things. But did he truly murder my parents? Could the man who just defended my honor so effortlessly have taken everything from me?
Doubt creeps in, a whisper I canât ignore. Itâs unshakable. I never was a hundred percent certain about Pavelâs guilt. Iâd let Piotrâs conviction become my own, even though Piotr never produced any actual proof. What if heâs wrong? What if Iâm about to destroy a man who isnât my enemy after all?
I need to know the truth.
The vial in my makeup case will stay put for now.
The moment we step onto the terrace of our suite, I know Iâm in trouble. Pavelâs grip tightens around my hand. He hasnât let go of me since we left the club, and the air feels charged with the adrenaline from the earlier confrontation.
I barely have time to react before he spins me and presses me against the railing, his body caging me in. I pull in a sharp breath, my pulse pounding.
âPavelââ His lips are on mine before I can continue.
The kiss is raw and punishing, heated and demanding, rough and possessive. I donât fight it. I donât push him away. I kiss him back with equal fervor. His hands are everywhere before reaching up into my hair, tilting my head back so he can kiss me even more deeply. âIâve wanted to rip this damn dress off of you all night.â
His words make my knees go weak before I feel my dress being lifted up my thighs, baring my skin to the night air. I shiver, but not from the cold. His fingers run over my body, rough and deliberate. I inhale deeply, then let it out slowly, my head falling back against the railing, my fingers gripping his shirt.
âFuck, Kat,â he says, his breath hot against my lips. âYouâre already soaked.â
I moan, rolling my hips into his touch. Pavel strokes me, teasing me, pushing me closer to the edge with every slow, deliberate movement.
âThis is what you want, isnât it?â His fingers work harder, faster. âTo be seen? To be fucked out here where anyone could be watching as I make you come?â
A whimper escapes me. I donât know whether itâs the words or the way heâs touching me, but my body is on fire, spiraling, losing control.
His free hand slides up, curls around my throat, and tilts my chin up, forcing me to look at him.
âLet me see it,â he growls. âLet me see you come.â
The pleasure tears through me, my body trembling, my moan breaking against his lips as he kisses me through it. His fingers donât stop until Iâm spent, breathless, and trembling.
Finally, he pulls away. Iâm still panting, my pulse a frantic drumbeat in my chest when he lifts his hand to his mouth. I watch, dazed and helpless, as he sucks his fingers clean, his eyes locked onto mine.
Fuck.
I barely have time to catch my breath before he grips my thighs and lifts me up. I automatically wrap my legs around his waist, my hands fisting into his shirt.
âIâm not done with you, Kat,â he says, walking us back into the suite.
âNot even fucking close.â