Chapter 5
PAVEL
H er lips had the faintest hint of obedience.
At first, she leaned away, attempting to melt into the wall behind her.
After she finally surrendered to my kiss, her curves sought support against me.
When I broke away, rebellion flashed in her eyes again.
The low hum of the office ventilation system was the only sound beyond her rapid breathing. The moonlight streaming through the blinds cast shadows across her face, highlighting those wide, fearful eyes that had occupied my thoughts for weeks.
The way her mouth had moved against mine told me everything I needed to know.
That a dutiful girl existed beneath the surface, and I would peel back every layer of hate and fear to find her.
Her fate was sealed the moment I first saw her, when she lied to me in that sweet, honeyed voice before fleeing.
Telling me a false name had been a bold move.
She had invaded my dreams since that day. Every morning I woke aching to sink inside her while she called me "sir" repeatedly.
Her chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths, hinting at generous breasts hidden from view.
My cock stiffened, demanding more.
I crushed my lips against hers, licking the seam, commanding entry.
Her mouth parted, tongue meeting mine with hesitant curiosity.
My little kitten—timid, shy, so easily startled.
Her responses betrayed her.
Maybe she could serve another purpose, one that wouldn't end with her death.
Such a waste to destroy someone so valuable when she could still be useful.
I wanted Alina. Why waste an opportunity?
Artem and Gregor would raise hell, of course.
They had made the rules clear: staff were untouchable.
But they would also demand her death as a witness to murder.
Their solution would be simple. Eliminate the liability.
A problem for another time.
My solution was far more creative—and satisfying.
Rules were made by men who feared consequences. I did not.
Now, this woman trembled against me, prepared to do anything for survival, and those plump lips promised other talents worth exploring.
Breaking the kiss, I pressed the gun against the top of her shoulder, forcing her down to her knees .
The thin industrial carpet offered little cushion against the hard floor beneath.
She winced at the impact.
"You want to live, little one?"
She nodded, lips tightly pressed together.
"Not good enough. I asked you a question." I needed to hear her voice, to establish the pattern of obedience now.
"Yes," she whispered, the word barely audible.
"Yes, what?" I prompted, tapping the gun lightly against her collarbone.
She swallowed hard. "Yes, I want to live."
"Then let's see how prettily you can beg."
Her breath caught, panic rippling through her slender frame.
She shook her head, a plea forming. "Please…please, don't do this."
"Do what, little one?”
Her mascara had run, forming dingy gray circles under her lashes, which only highlighted the golden flecks in the rich warmth of her brown eyes. Those pink lips quivered, begging to be claimed. “I…I…don’t…”
My expression remained deliberately closed off.
I craved her fear.
Her desperation.
Her surrender.
My fingers grasped her chin, tilting her face upward.
I wanted her to witness this, to understand her choices—a body bag, or my mercy.
“That’s not begging. I want to hear you beg me.” A command, not a request.
"Please, I'll do anything. "
"What could you possibly offer that I would want?" I ruthlessly taunted, drawing out the delicious suspense as I held her fate in the palm of my hand.
Her porcelain cheeks practically glowed in the moonlit room.
I imagined smearing lipstick across that angelic face.
Her expression shifted—a tiny flicker of something beyond terror. Recognition, perhaps, that this moment was inevitable from our first meeting.
Some women sensed their fate before they understood it.
Someone so pure needed to be ruined.
I would be that ruin.
"What value do you have that I can't find elsewhere?"
"I—I'll work for free." Her eyes darted across my face, searching for salvation.
I laughed, cold and harsh. "Try harder."
"I—please, I'll do anything. Please. I didn't mean to see anything. It was an accident. I was just trying to do my job. It all happened so fast, I'm not even sure what I saw. I'm so sorry."
"How sorry are you?" I asked as I unfastened my belt with a quiet click.
She broke completely—gasping, sobbing, shaking so violently she barely remained upright.
Yet in that moment of complete terror, there was the slightest dilation of her pupils that had nothing to do with the dim lighting.
Even her body betrayed her.
My cock had ached since our eyes met earlier .
After feeling those lips against mine, I would wait no longer.
I needed to discover what else her mouth could do.
Her fate had been sealed the moment she fled from me.
Nothing stirred my blood more than pursuit.
No, that wasn't true.
This—the moment fear transformed into submission.
When natural instinct overrode resistance and she became my good girl, proving her obedience.
I placed my gun on the desk beside us, freeing my hand for her soft hair.
"Take out my cock," I demanded, pulling a knife from my back pocket, opening it. The metallic flick echoed through the silence.
Her sobs still shook her shoulders, but she kept them quiet.
I slid the knife through the elastic holding her tight ponytail and groaned when her dark brown locks tumbled free to her shoulders.
"Your hair is wasted in that severe style," I observed, running my fingers through the strands. "Never wear it up again."
Her eyes widened at the implication that there would be an "again," a future beyond this moment.
“I said take out my cock. Don’t make me repeat myself,” I growled, fingers twisting into those silky strands, gripping tight.
Her trembling hands reached for my pants, drawing down the zipper.
"Please," she whispered once more .
I tightened my grip until she winced. "You need to prove you can take directions."
"I can. I will," she responded quickly, learning.
Her fingers found my hard length, wrapping around it.
The sensation of her soft yet strong touch drew a groan from my throat.
"Good girl," I praised as she pulled my cock free.
Her eyes flickered up at the praise, a brief moment of confusion crossing her features before she masked it.
Interesting.
She responded to those two simple words in ways she didn't understand…yet.
"Now show me how sorry you are."
Her fingers caressed my length, eyes wide and slightly panicked as crimson darkened her cheeks.
I gave her a minute to explore.
Her touch was exquisite, but she wouldn't get off— or get me off —so easily.
My fantasies of her on her knees before me paled in comparison to the reality—her trembling lips, her wide, fearful eyes.
Her blush deepened, and I wondered how far down that flush extended.
Did it reach her breasts? Her stomach?
"Look at me," I demanded.
Her eyes immediately found mine.
I pulled her face closer as she tilted my cock toward my stomach. The sight of her looking up at me, my cock so near her pretty mouth, stirred something dark within me.
"Tell me you're sorry again," I demanded .
"I'm so sorry. I promise I didn't see anything. No one will ever know. You don't have to do this, I will never?—"
"Enough of your pretty little lies. Put your hands on my thighs and keep them there."
I should've ordered her to put her hands behind her back, forcing her to arch upward to reveal those perky breasts beneath the thin fabric of her T-shirt.
But I wanted her touch—wanted her unable to escape this moment.
There would be no retreat into her mind while I held her captive.
The second she let go of my cock, it fell forward, smacking her in the face.
She winced, but fuck if I didn't like the feeling of her warm skin.
Keeping one hand in her hair, I moved the other one to the base of my cock, then painted her full lips with my pre-cum.
She said nothing, keeping her lips closed as she looked up at me with fear and a little defiance sparking in the depths of her cognac-brown eyes.
I caught sight of a small photo frame that must have fallen from the desk during her earlier struggle to hide. A family portrait, strangers smiling at a beach. How ordinary their lives must be, how safe and predictable.
Nothing like what Alina's life would become now.
"Open your mouth and suck my cock as if your life depends on it. Because it does."
She closed her eyes for just a second, drawing in a deep shuddering breath through her nose before her lips parted and her pink tongue darted out to taste the tip .
"Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, babygirl.” I needed to see her face, to watch that exact moment when the fight drained from her eyes and surrender took over.
Her gaze locked with mine as she opened her mouth.
I kept my grip on her hair tight, thrusting straight to the back of her throat.
She gagged and sputtered, eyes watering, resisting every second.
The way her throat constricted around me nearly finished me right then.
I pulled back, releasing her hair and letting her drop to her hands and knees, coughing and gasping for air while I regained control.
I would have come down her throat, but not this quickly.
"You've never done this before, have you?" I asked, observing how she struggled to recover.
She shook her head, gasping for breath.
"Words, Alina. Always words."
"No," she managed between coughs. "Not like this."
Something possessive and primitive surged through me.
Her inexperience made this capture all the sweeter.
I gave her only a moment before tangling my fingers back in her hair and dragging her up.
Even with tears staining her cheeks, bloodshot eyes, and bruised lips all swollen and glistening, she was beautiful.
A woman created to be claimed and possessed... not by anyone else, but by me alone.
Crafted specially for me to control .
What man would ignore such a gift?