Page 21 of The Pakhan’s Forced Bride (West Coast Bratva Pakhans #3)

Oh.

My heart races faster when I realize what’s happening. She slowly bites her lower lip, and mischief flashes across her face.

My body is pushed right against hers. The window behind us filters light, which glows around her, creating a halo in her hair.

My hand is pressed against the glass above her head, her breath hot against my lips.

Being this close to her is addictive. It’s not just the physical pleasure of her body—it’s her. I want to be close to that smile, her scent, her laughter. I want to spend time with her, talking, learning about her.

Even if we spend the entire night just talking to each other, I choose her.

My cock stirs as I gently push my hips forward, rubbing it against her.

She slips her hand around my waist and pulls me tighter against her, lifting her chin to kiss me.

I lean down, eager to feel those perfect lips against mine.

“Ardalion,” my name is called loudly from someone inside the mansion.

“Shit,” I mumble, grinning at her. She giggles and licks her lips. My body pulses with desire.

“Ardalion?”

“In here,” I shout back, taking a step away from her, but not too far; I keep my arm locked around her waist and pull her to my side.

Emmanuil comes rushing into the music room.

“Did you not get the call?” he asks, his face flushed and glossed with sweat.

“What call?” I say tensely.

“Where’s your phone?”

I tap my back pocket and realize I left it on the bar when I was talking to my sister.

“Outside.”

“Your warehouses are being systematically attacked,” Emmanuil replies, frantic.

“Fuck,” I snarl, grabbing Belle’s hand. I turn to face her. “I have to drop you at home, I’m so sorry—I have to go—"

“Of course,” she says, worried. “I can get a taxi, you should go.”

“Not a chance. If they are attacking my warehouse, they might target anything important to me,” I snap. “I’ll personally make sure you get home safe.”

Spinning towards my cousin, he nods, already knowing what I’m about to say.

“I’ll go straight there,” he answers.

Belle and I run out to the cars after I grab my phone and say a very hurried goodbye to my sisters and family. They heard the news from Emmanuil, so they know what’s going on.

A few of the men rush out to my warehouses with Emmanuil.

In the car, Belle is anxious.

“Are they shooting, or setting off explosives?” she asks, shifting in her seat. I reach my hand across the car and place it on her leg. My eyes are on the road ahead.

“I have a good support network, Belle. A good team, and we prepared for this. We were expecting it. They’ll have it under control quickly.”

From the corner of my eye, I see her nod, and I steal a glance at her.

She’s biting her lip again, this time with nervous tension.

“Hey,” I say gently. “It’s going to be okay. I promise.”

With Belle safely in the walls of the mansion and my home security team on high alert, I leave confident that she is safe and head towards my biggest warehouse.

My stomach is tightly knotted, my shoulders are tense, and my jaw is set firmly. I was hoping we could’ve avoided the attack completely, stop it before it started. But somehow these assholes managed to slip past the first layer of defenses, as though they knew exactly where they were.

Agitation rumbles through me as I pull into the parking area outside the warehouse. The place is in chaos, but it seems to be organized chaos.

Smoke is billowing out the back of the warehouse, coming from somewhere I cannot see yet.

I climb out of my car and run towards the entrance. Several men are sitting outside, covered in blood, groaning in pain as others tend to their wounds. I spot the team manager, leaning over a man whose leg looks like it’s been shredded.

“Artan, sorry it took me so long to get here. Where do you need me?” I ask.

“Inside, right at the blast sight. There are still men trapped.”

“How many have we lost?” I ask tightly.

“So far, three,” he says, turning back to the man in front of him.

I squeeze his shoulder, then run inside to help where I can.

Emmanuil is there, his sleeves rolled up, his white shirt coated in grime and blood.

“Ardalion, help me lift this,” he shouts. I run to his side, and together we manage to get the fallen forklift back upright. Beneath it, there is a young man’s body, crushed. I swallow hard.

“Fuck,” I mutter.

“Let’s keep looking and help those we can.”

In my pocket, my phone rings, and I pull it out, anxious for good news.

“Ardalion,” I snap, pressing the phone to my ear.

“Sir, it's Marcus from warehouse seven. We’ve been attacked. We fought them off but lost two men. And warehouse five also took a hit.”

“Is the security team there?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I’ll send a medical team now. Do what you can. I’m at Warehouse One. There was an explosion here.”

“No explosion here, sir. Just heavy gunfire.”

I press my fingers into my eyes. There is a headache building, but I can’t let it distract me. My team needs me.

“Alright, Marcus, are you in control there?”

“Yes, sir. We are in control here.”

“Stay in touch,” I sigh before the phone call ends, then slip my phone back into my pocket to carry on dealing with the mayhem of what looks like several explosive devices that went off simultaneously across this warehouse.

There are fires raging in the two separate areas. Men are fighting them with extinguishers, yelling instructions to each other. Other men are dragging products away from the flames, and others are carrying their friends to safety.

For a moment, I pause and survey the scene, and a sense of pride overwhelms me. I have an incredible team.

It takes hours to get the fires out and to clear the area of injured men, and to clean up where the products can be saved.

Apart from the loss of five lives at this warehouse and another four at the other locations, we have done okay considering the size of the attack.

We didn’t lose much product, nothing that will impact business, and we managed to get things under control.

The injured have been taken for care, and the security team has been rotated, sending the tired men home to rest, so the guards on duty are fresh and patrolling the area to prevent any further attacks.

Emmanuil and I are sitting on the upper deck of the warehouse, looking down over the floor area. The air still smells of smoke, and we’re both covered head to toe in dirt, ash, and blood.

He hands me an ice-cold beer.

I crack the top in silence as my eyes wander over the scene.

“It could have been a lot worse,” Emmanuil sighs.

“It could’ve. I just don’t understand how they got past the first line of defense.”

“These guys are good. They’ve been good from the beginning. I think I should head home soon and start upping my defenses there in San Diego. We might need to change the initial plan a bit, too.”

“Thank you for your help tonight, man, I can’t tell you how much it means to me.”

“You would do the same for me. I don’t doubt it.

” He throws his head back and takes seven long gulps of beer.

“Man, I needed this.” He sighs again, wiping his hand over his mouth and smearing dirt across his cheek.

He chuckles when he realizes. “Shit, I need a shower. And ten hours straight of sleep.”

Emmanuil stands with a groan, his body aching as much as mine is. I think we lifted, moved, carried, and pushed a thousand tons of weight tonight. It certainly feels that way.

I stand too, stretching my neck back, letting out a long sigh.

“A hot shower. Food. Sleep.”

I don’t say it, but I’m thinking about her. The things I mentioned are on my list, but what I really want, over anything else, is to be in her arms.

I throw the rest of my beer back, down it, letting the cold liquid rush down my throat, then I set the bottle on a nearby table and follow Emmanuil down to the parking lot.

It’s much quieter now. Most of the men have gone home already. After checking in with my head of security for the new watch, I leave, finally heading home. To Belle.

When I push the front door open and walk into my mansion, the lights are all on, glowing and welcoming.

And despite it being past two in the morning, Belle comes rushing towards me, ignoring my stained clothes as she wraps her arms around me and hugs me close.

“I’m so glad you’re home,” she whispers.

My heart melts as my body molds against hers.

“You smell bad,” she giggles, her cheek against my chest.

“Sorry,” I chuckle, pulling her away. “And I’m getting it all over you.”

“I don’t care,” she whispers, looking at me. She reaches her hand out to trace my jaw. “You’re exhausted.”

“At least I’m alive, in one piece. It’s more than I can say for the lives of nine men we lost today. And the countless men lying in hospital right now.”

Belle bites her lip as her eyes glitter with compassion. “Come, I’ll run you a hot bath.”

“I think I should climb into the shower instead. There’s too much dirt, and I don’t want to fall asleep in a bath now.”

“Alright, then, I’ll get the shower ready. When you’re out, I’ll bring you some food.”

Her eagerness to take my burdens and make them less makes my heart swell. I don’t deserve her, yet here she is, right at my side.

In the shower, I scrub until the water runs clean, and the heat leaves my skin red and smooth.

I wash my hair several times, making sure the stench of smoke is gone.

When I climb out, I dry off and step straight into the gray sweatpants Belle has left on the counter for me.

I feel a hundred times better, and I can smell the rich scent of a homemade pepper steak pie.

I leave the bathroom, and Belle is sitting on my bed, a tray of food waiting for me, along with a mug of coffee. She smiles and tilts her head towards it. “I topped your coffee up with a dash of whisky,” she grins. “It should help you relax a little.”

“You’re helping me relax, little bunny. Thank you for all of this.”

She pulls the blankets aside, and I climb beneath them. Belle sets the tray over my legs and snuggles close to my side while I eat.

“Oh, wow. Rio’s never made this before,” I say, chewing the hearty, wholesome pie, closing my eyes to savor the flavor.

“He didn’t make it. I did.” She smiles. “I had to do something to keep my mind from wandering off the deep end.”

“Jeez, Belle, this is incredible. We need to have this once a week at least,” I chuckle, wrapping one arm around her and kissing the top of her head. She smiles, and her face glows with pride.

I eat slowly, trying to encourage my body to simmer down and let go of the tension.

Belle chats and keeps my mind busy with more pleasant things, but when dinner is over and she lifts the tray away to set it aside, my heart feels heavy with the losses.

Belle can sense the shift in me.

“Lie down, let me rub your shoulders,” she says, tapping the bed.

I do as she asks, and she sits straddled over my back, her ass in the curve of my back, and her hands massage in slow motion over my shoulders and neck. My body heats beneath her touch, a low hum of electricity moving through me as she uses her weight to apply pressure where I need it most.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that, Ard,” she says quietly. Her closeness is a comfort she doesn’t understand. A comfort I desperately need. Her voice is like a warm light, pulling me from the darkness, opening my heart to let go of my stress.

“I’m sorry for the families—you know. Those men were all good men.” I sigh. “They didn’t deserve this. They had children, wives…" My voice tails off, tightening around my words.

“How did the attackers get past your defenses?” she asks, her fingers working into my muscles.

“I can’t figure it out. We planned so meticulously, it worries me. Emmanuil is heading home tomorrow to rethink his defenses, as he used the same strategy as mine.”

Usually, in my line of work, I come home after difficult times and I lie in bed alone, staring at the ceiling, lost in my head.

This is so different. This is sharing my burden, releasing it, easing it away.

Belle listens as I talk about the things on my mind. She lets me speak, lets me get the looping thoughts out of my head. Talking out loud is a valuable way to clear thoughts and sort through what is important and what needs to be let go.

Belle gives me the space to do that, and all the while she massages the knots from my shoulders and down over my back.

Her hands on my skin at first are soothing, a welcome relief from the knots of anxiety in my body, but soon the tension is fading, and my thoughts begin to shift.

Her touch is fire, burning across my shoulders, soaking a feverish desire into my body.

My cock is swollen, hard against the mattress as I become hyperaware of each movement she makes sitting on top of me.

I shift beneath her, rolling onto my back so that she’s sitting straddled over my chest. She looks down at me and presses her hands against my chest. Her face is too beautiful for words as her long, soft brown hair falls over her shoulders, framing her.

My hands brush over her thighs, onto her hips as I lift her and push her further back, so that she isn’t sitting on my chest, but over my hips.

She grins as she feels my cock, hard between her spread legs.

“You’re still very tense, um, in certain areas,” she giggles.

“Mm. I am,” I nod, my eyes roaming her face, over her lips, staring into those gorgeous blue eyes of hers.

“Use me,” she whispers, her words sending a wild thrill racing through my body. My cock throbs with desire.

“Are you sure?” I ask, my words coming out as a dark growl.

She nods, her eyes glittering.

“Use me however you need me,” she whispers again, leaning forward, she brushes her thumb over my lips.

I reach up and grab her face in my hands and pull her lips down onto mine.

I’ve been waiting all night to kiss her, and now she’s offered herself to me freely. I no longer have to fight for control.