Page 86 of Brutal Reign

“According to Yarik, a real man can cook and do laundry.”

I snort. “I had no idea he was so progressive.”

“Progressive? I don’t know about that. He believes in being well-rounded.”

His warm eyes land on me, and I flush. Considering everything that’s happened between us, I have no idea how I could still feel shy around him. But somehow, when we’re alone and not fighting, I feel almost nervous.

The air between us suddenly feels electric, and I realize neither of us has moved or said a word in minutes. We’re just… staring at each other.

Memories of the closet flit through my mind.

The truth is, that moment has been front and center, playing on repeat in my head for days. Because nothing about this man is forgettable. Least of all the orgasms he gave me.

But there’s one detail I can’t stop thinking about.

“I can’t believe you saw my collection of romance books,” I say suddenly.

“That’s the part you’re focusing on?” he chuckles. “Not the part about me watching you in the shower?”

My face goes hot. The shower thing is violating and arousing in equal measure, but somehow the books feel more personal. Like he saw a secret part of me.

I tore through those paperbacks from the used bookstore. Five books for three pounds, and I’d devour them all, desperate for happy endings and spicy scenes when the real thing felt impossible.

“They were my only escape,” I admit, surprising myself with honesty. “And the only romance in my life at that time.”

“Why did you sleep with me that night?”

I don’t know how to answer that; whatever I say will reveal too much. Like how our connection was pure fire or how he made me feel like I mattered.

“It was Lukas I let in, not you,” I say, hoping to shut this down. I clear my throat. “You must be tired after being away this week.”

Heat flickers in his eyes. “I’m not interested in going to bed,” he says, “but I could be convinced if you’ll join me.” He leans closer, voice dropping low. “If I recall, I gave you one week to sleep in Kin’s room with him… Your time’s up, angel moy. It’s time to sleep with your husband.”

God, it’s tempting. So fucking tempting. But it’s already impossible to resist him, and the thought of waking up in his arms is more dangerous than anything outside these walls.

“I—I can’t. Kin still has nightmares.”

Untrue. But it’s the only defense I have.

Pavel stands, and before I can react, he’s kneeling beside my lounger, one hand braced on either side of my hips, caging me in. The position puts his face level with mine, close enough that I can see the flecks of silver in his eyes.

His hand comes up to cup the side of my neck, thumb stroking along my pulse point. “Your pulse is racing,” he murmurs. “And you’re looking at me like you want me to eat your pussy.”

Because I do.

He leans closer, his lips barely grazing my jaw. “I could slide my hand between your thighs right now and find you wet for me, couldn’t I?”

My breathing goes shallow, and I grip the arms of the lounger to keep from turning and pulling him down to me.

One of his hands slides down to rest on my shoulder, thumb stroking the sensitive spot where my neck meets my collarbone. “Your body remembers too. Look how you’re responding to just my voice.”

He’s right. My nipples are tight against my shirt, and there’s a familiar ache building between my thighs that has nothing to do with the warm night air.

“Pavel,” I whisper, but I don’t know if it’s a warning or an invitation.

His free hand skims down my side, fingertips trailing fire even through the fabric of my sleep shirt. When he reaches the hem, he pauses, thumb stroking the strip of exposed skin at my hip.

Get your shit together, Hope. You cannot let this happen again.