Chapter 3 #2
Pavel straightens slowly and tucks himself away, his posture settling back into the composed authority I’m used to seeing during the day. If I hadn’t heard his voice moments earlier, I might have believed nothing unusual had happened at all.
His expression is calm again, controlled in that precise way he always manages when other people are around. The difference now is that I know what I interrupted, and the knowledge makes it difficult to look anywhere except at the stack of papers in my hands.
“I forgot these earlier,” I say again, because apparently repeating myself is the only coping strategy my brain has chosen tonight. I step a little farther into the office and place the files on the corner of his desk, carefully avoiding looking directly at him while I do it.
Just look at the desk. The desk wasn’t jerking off and groaning your name and making you wish you were actually participating.
I clear my throat. “They go with the dock contract Vladimir brought in this afternoon.”
Pavel’s gaze follows the movement of the folder, though I can feel the weight of his attention lingering on me longer than necessary. When I finally straighten, I force myself to meet his eyes, mostly because pretending he isn’t standing three feet away would be even stranger.
“Thank you,” he says quietly.
The simple response should end the moment, but the air in the room doesn’t shift the way it usually does when a conversation concludes. Instead, the silence stretches again, thick with everything neither of us is addressing directly.
I take a small step backward toward the door, hoping to restore some normal distance between us. “I’ll just… let you get back to work.”
“Molly, stop.”
I turn back slowly, already bracing myself for another wave of embarrassment. “Yes?”
Pavel studies me for a moment without speaking.
The calm focus in his eyes is something I’ve seen many times during meetings when he’s deciding how to handle a complicated situation.
It’s strange to realize that same level of attention is now directed entirely at me. “You were leaving for the night.”
“Yes.” The answer comes out softer than I intended, probably because the atmosphere in the room has shifted again in a way I can’t quite explain.
Pavel moves slightly, stepping away from the desk in a slow, deliberate motion that makes my heart beat faster for reasons I’d rather not examine too closely. The distance between us shortens by a few feet, though there’s still plenty of space in the room. “You heard me.”
The statement isn’t a question.
My face warms immediately. There is absolutely no graceful way to answer that observation. Pretending I didn’t hear him would be ridiculous, and confirming it out loud feels even worse. “I didn’t mean to. I was just dropping off the files.”
Pavel stands a little closer than before, the distance between us small enough that I can clearly see the faint tension along his iron jaw and the careful way he’s regulating his breathing. “I did not intend for you to hear that.”
“I should probably go,” I add, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway behind me.
Pavel’s gaze moves over me briefly before returning to my face. It’s not a crude look, and it isn’t rushed. The fitted dress I chose this morning suddenly feels like a much more significant decision than it did eighteen hours ago. “Then why are you still here?”
The directness of the question makes my breath catch slightly. “Because you told me to stop.”
“You have always been a good listener.”
I realize suddenly that this is the closest I have ever stood to Pavel without a desk or a conference table separating us. My mouth is dry. It’s the only part of me that is. “Yes.”
“You heard your name,” he says after a moment.
I swallow. “Yes.”
“And so, you stayed.”
The observation makes my face warm again, though the embarrassment now feels mixed with something far less comfortable. I shift my weight slightly, aware that leaving would still be the safe option.
At the same time, the quiet intensity in Pavel’s gaze makes the idea of walking away feel strangely difficult. “I stayed long enough to realize I should probably pretend this never happened.”
He studies me for a moment as if considering that suggestion carefully. The expression on his face remains calm, but the focus in his eyes sharpens slightly. “That may not be possible.”
“No?” I become suddenly aware of how close we’re standing and how easily I could close the remaining distance if I chose to. That realization sends a nervous flutter through my stomach.
“You should go home,” Pavel says quietly. “While you still can.”
A threat, plain as day. If anyone else had spoken those words, I would have run. The problem is, he’s not anyone else.
He’s Pavel, and I’m in too deep.
“I probably should.” That probably is doing a lot of heavy lifting in that sentence.
The corner of Pavel’s mouth shifts again, that same almost-smile appearing for the briefest second before fading. “Molly…” The distance between us shortens by another step when Pavel moves forward. The motion is slow enough that I could step back if I wanted to.
But I don’t.
My breath catches as he reaches for me, his large, rough hand hooking around the back of my neck to pull me in for a demanding kiss. His lips pry mine open, his tongue gliding into my mouth, taking over.
My body goes weak from the contact, from his energy. I barely notice when he reaches behind me, but I hear the loud snick of his office lock.
He breaks the kiss to growl, “You’re not going anywhere.”
“I’m not?”
He kisses me again, harder this time. More monster than man, his stubble burns my chin as he presses me against the locked door. When I’m sufficiently pressed between that door and his hard place, he reaches down for the sides of my dress to hoist it upward.
Thank God this dress stretches, or he might rip it apart to get what he wants.
When it’s halfway up my thighs, that bear paw of a hand slips between them. His mouth travels from my lips to my jaw to my throat, and when his tongue swirls there, my eyes flutter back. His voice is deeper now. “Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t want to.”
“Good girl.” That’s when he reaches up with his hand. Until now, it’s been resting between my legs. Waiting patiently. But saying the magic words is enough to get those thick fingers cupping me over my underwear.
I whimper from the contact. Can’t help it. It’s been a long time since anyone else has touched me there, and the heat of his touch builds in my belly.
His fingers slide past my lacy elastic, and when he feels how wet I already am, his primal sound echoes off the hardwood behind me. A finger slips inside, and my knees go weak, so I grab his shoulders for balance. But he doesn’t stop. He doesn’t even slow down for me to catch up.
He stares into my eyes instead, that frosty blue gaze piercing into my soul. “Do you take cocks as good as you take my finger, pet?”
I bite my lip and nod. I have no words. No one has ever spoken to me like this.
“We shall see.” Then his thumb works my clit, and I see stars.
I’m not sure if I’ve ever come while standing, but I’m already on the brink. Just as I’m about to say as much, he crushes me in another kiss, and I erupt on his hand, rocking back and forth while pleasure shoots through me.
Still, he doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves faster.
My voice trembles. “Please, I can’t—”
“You can. You are.”
I whimper, teetering between pleasure and pain. It’s too much. Too hot. The heat boils inside my core as another orgasm is wrenched from me. I cry out his name, and he kisses me again. More brutal than the last one.
I’m dizzy and breathless when he pulls away, and I can barely stand. He must see it, because he picks me up like I weigh nothing and carries me to the couch.
“You always tell me the truth, da?”
“Yes.”
“Then we will see if you take cock as good as you say.”