Page 62 of Claimed By the Pakhan

“Did you ask permission?” he says, arching a dark brow.

My breath catches, desire and fear merging into one as we move away from the chandelier, shadows passing across his face.

“Step forward with your left foot, lead with the heel, then push back onto the ball of your foot,” he guides, swaying to the rhythm. “You got this.”

After repeating the pattern twice, my body takes the lead, feet dancing in time to the waltz.

I gasp, catching Emil looking at me, a smirk stretching across his face.

“Your body never forgets.”

Fog clears from my head the more times I step, transforming me back to a memory. I look down at the floor, grounding my feet in this reality, but the color of my skirt changes.

I’m wearing white, dancing on grass, not stone, surrounded by trees instead of walls.

I look up at Emil, gasping, the shadows completely hijacking his face.

The sun disappears, leaving us in a strange purgatory period between day and night.

Emil keeps holding me, encouraging me to dance.

His face is hidden in the dark, but I sense him watching me, my skin burning up.

I should be terrified. I’m far away from the city, surrounded by pine. Nothing is getting past those trees, not even my screams…

And yet I feel safe in the wrong hands, learning dance moves as the night closes in.

Fog drifts through my head, encouraging me to return to reality. Emil is the first person to welcome me back, his brow hard as he reads my face like a complicated painting.

“Another memory?”

“Yeah,” I say absent-mindedly. “We were dancing.”

I glance at the floor, my yellow skirts swishing on the stone floor. A hole drills itself into my heart as I come around from that flashback. This one feels different from the rest, like I’m grieving a relationship I can’t even fully remember.

21

EMIL

My guilty conscienceonly started developing when I met Fia, and now alarms are chiming, telling me to come clean.

I turn to her in the backseats of the car, exhaling a deep breath, ready to tell her the reason why we got married, when she dives into my lap and slides her tongue all the way into my mouth.

“Fuck, Fia,” I grunt, coming up for air.

“Don’t speak.” She clamps her hand over my mouth, staring deep into my eyes. “We’ve been doing that all night and I’m exhausted. How about we do something better, and you show me how obsessed you are with me.”

“Your wish is my command, spitfire,” I grunt, torn between desire and responsibility.

But Fia licks her tongue back into my mouth, responsibility disappearing with the city skyline. The car shoots back into the forest, darkness blanketing us in every direction.

I shove her down, laying her across the backseats. The driver gets the hint and activates the divider. Only when it’s fully up, doI hitch up her skirts, bunching them around her hips. I spread her legs as wide as my heart desires, petting her pussy in the back of the vehicle.

Moans ripple out of Fia’s mouth, the beautiful sounds wrapping around my cock, rendering it harder.

“You’re impatient,” I growl, trailing my finger through her wet folds. “What happened to you being able to keep your legs closed for a half hour car ride?”

“I started giving my body what it wants,” Fia moans. “We might not be in this situation if you knew how to look at me normally in public.”