Page 25 of Claimed By the Pakhan

“Very well,” says Emil. “You can hate me all you want, as long as you stay under my roof.”

I hitch my arms further up my chest. How can I be sure he has enemies in the first place? Sick people exist in the world, committing offences just to fulfill their twisted fantasies. They lie through their teeth and somehow get away with everything.

From what Chloe was saying, it sounds like Emil has an unhealthy obsession with stalking…

And according to the burn between my legs, I might have an unhealthy desire for him to keep exercising control.

“Is there a spare room?”

“No. Just one,” answers Emil, his eyes glowing at me across the dark corridor. “You’ll sleep in our marital bed.”

Fucking typical.

I heave myself upstairs, preparing for bed using lotions and creams that must be mine. I grab one bottle in particular, smoothing my hand over the label. I’m loyal when it comes to skincare, always using the same brands.

I shake off the shiver and brush my teeth, seeing a purple one slotted in a holder beside another. Purple has been my favorite color since I was a kid, symbolizing magic and fantasy.

By nature, I’ve always been creative, generating entire other worlds in my head at night when the banging downstairs was bad. Concentrating on the color purple, slipping into other worlds, helped me escape.

I stare hard at the toothbrush, scrubbing my teeth, wondering if me marrying Emil was another form of escape.

I throw on a silk camisole, step into the matching pair of shorts and head into the bedroom, where Emil is waiting, a smirk toying on his lips.

He’s the most irritating, obviously most dangerous person I have ever met, and yet the most gorgeous. He has no business looking like this in the evening, wearing nothing but a black pair of boxer shorts. He spreads out on top of the mattress, legs sprawled out long beneath him.

He pats the space next to him, which must be my designated side of the bed.

“Don’t be shy,” he says as I crawl underneath the sheets, keeping distance. “You’re normally all over me this time of night.”

“Sure,” I drawl, keeping my hands and feet to myself. Lying on my back like a pencil all night will be uncomfortable, since I’m usually a slide sleeper, but I refuse to touch Emil. I’ll die if his skin brushes up against mine. Feeling his heat radiating across the bed is bad enough.

Emil keeps watching me. “Well, goodnight.”

I switch the nightstand lamp off before I spend any more time staring at each individual muscle.

I turn onto my side, facing away from Emil, and shut my eyes, imagining the color purple instead of my naked husband.

Unfortunately, escaping isn’t so easy. Mentally escaping this man is even more impossible than physically running away.

I rest my hand on my baby bump, remembering my priorities.Put the twins first. Stay away from Emil.

But sleeping in the same bed we’ve fucked in countless times, and probably conceived the twins in, distorts the priorities, bending them into other truths.

“Right fucking there,” I gasp as I straddle Emil’s lap, riding him. “I’m so close, you have no idea.”

“I do have an idea,” teases Emil, flashing me a sinful smile from the pillow. “I can feel everything. Your pussy always tenses around my cock when you’re ready to cum.” He trails a rough finger over my chin, hooking it under so I’m forced to look at him. “I know everything about you, Fia. Your face is an open book. I don’t have to shove my cock in you to figure you out.”

I gasp, shaking myself back into reality after that dream… or memory. It was vivid, whatever the fuck it was.

“Another flashback?” says Emil, his croaky voice catching against his throat. “What happened this time?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I say, itching closer to the edge. “Go to sleep.”

“You remembered us fucking, didn’t you?”

My heart thumps in my chest, my breathing turning heavy. Hiding how flustered I am only makes the situation worse. I press a palm over my mouth, silencing my breath.

The dark chuckle erupting out of Emil’s mouth suggests he knows everything.