Page 74 of Auctioned to the Russian Pakhan

He flipped her onto her hands and knees, entering her from behind with a thrust that made her moan into the pillow. His hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back so he could kiss her. His other hand slid down to rub her clit in fast circles.

“Come for me like this,” he ordered.

Her orgasm hit hard, her body clenching around him. He groaned, pounding into her until the tension in him snapped, his release hot and deep inside her.

But he didn’t stop.

Before she could catch her breath, he pulled out, his body shifting with a controlled urgency, and rolled onto his back. His hands caught her waist, dragging her over him like she weighed nothing.

“Sit,” he commanded, his voice low, rough, impossible to disobey.

Her thighs trembled as she positioned herself above him, and then she sank down in one long, aching slide, both of them gasping when he filled her again. The stretch stole her breath.

“That’s it,” he murmured, fingers digging into her hips, guiding her into motion. She began to ride him, every rise and fall punctuated by the wet, rhythmic slap of their bodies.

“You look so good like this,” he rasped, his eyes dark and hungry. “Bouncing on my cock, dripping all over me. Don’t stop.”

Her palms pressed to his chest, nails dragging lightly over his skin, her pace quickening as her own need clawed higher. His grip tightened, urging her harder, deeper, faster.

“I’m close—” she panted, the words breaking on a moan.

“That’s it. Take what you need. Show me,” he growled, tilting his hips up to meet her with every thrust.

The sharp, spiraling pleasure snapped, and she cried out, the climax ripping through her in hot, blinding waves. But before she could even ride it out, he caught her in his arms and rolled, pinning her beneath him without pulling free.

His movements were fluid, predatory. He hooked her legs over his shoulders, folding her in half so deep she could feel him everywhere. Then he drove into her, each thrust deliberate and punishing, forcing little gasps from her lips.

“You take me so well,” he gritted out, his body pounding into hers until the bed frame shuddered beneath them. “You were made for this. Made for me.”

Her fingers clutched at the sheets, her voice breaking on another moan as he kept her right there on the edge, relentless and unyielding.

“Matvei—God—”

He fucked her hard, relentless, watching her eyes roll back as pleasure wrecked her again. Her nails clawed at his arms, and her cries filled the room.

“Come again for me,” he demanded. “Now.”

She shattered a third time, trembling under him as he followed her over the edge, groaning her name as he emptied himself into her again.

When he finally stilled, they were both shaking, skin slick with sweat. He collapsed beside her, pulling her against him, their bodies tangled in heat and moonlight.

They stayed tangled together long after, trembling, breathless, soaked in sweat and moonlight.

He kissed her again, softly this time. A kiss that said we’re alive. We’re together. We’re safe. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, her heart was at peace.

Later, as they lay tangled in silk sheets with her head on his chest, she traced lazy patterns on his skin and marveled at how much had changed. A few months ago, she’d been a pampered princess trying to prove herself worthy of her family’srespect. Now she was a wife, soon to be a mother, and partner to one of the most powerful men in the city.

“What are you thinking about?” Matvei asked, his voice rough with satisfaction.

“Everything,” she said honestly. “The baby, the families, the future. A year ago, I never would have imagined any of this.”

“Do you regret it?” There was vulnerability in the question that made her heart ache.

She lifted her head to look at him, letting him see the absolute certainty in her eyes. “Never. Not even the scary parts. Especially not the scary parts.”

He smiled then, that real smile that transformed his entire face and reminded her why she’d fallen for him in the first place. “I love you, Mrs. Volkov.”

“I love you too, Mr. Volkov.”

Outside, she could hear the sounds of their families saying their goodbyes, car doors slamming, and engines starting. The dinner had ended without bloodshed, which counted as a victory. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new threats to navigate together. But tonight, in this bed with this man, she was exactly where she belonged.

The future stretched ahead of them, uncertain but full of possibility. Their child would grow up knowing both families, bridging the gap between old enemies. The auction houses would fall. The city would change.

And through it all, they would have this. Love that had grown from the ashes of betrayal and bloomed into something unbreakable. It was more than she’d ever dared to dream, and everything she’d never known she needed.

Perfect.

*****

THE END