Page 6 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

Her body was so soft, like warm silk. Even through that thin fabric I could feel the heat of her skin, her nipples stiffening under the stimulation, brushing against my palm through her dress.

I swear I only meant to tease her, but the moment I pressed her down, my legendary self-control crumbled.

Devour her.

The voice in my head screamed, almost breaking through my skull.

Her shoulders were so delicate they'd snap in half. That barely-there dress tore to pieces in my hands. Small whimpers leaked from her throat, then she bit her lip, refusing to cry out.

She didn't know—that was far more tempting than screaming.

I loosened my grip on her wrists without thinking. Her hair smelled clean and faint, mixed with the lingering smoke on me, tangling together until my head felt heavy.

Forcing a woman wasn't something I should do. But controlling my desire for her was harder than clawing my way to the top of the underworld.

In that split second of distraction, her hand broke free and grabbed the ashtray, swinging it at me.

Muscle memory made me catch her wrist instantly. The glass ashtray crashed onto the hardwood floor with a dull thud, glass shards scattering everywhere.

I pinned her wrist and pressed her back down.

She trembled with panic, the corners of her eyes red like rain-soaked roses, those beautiful eyes filled with stubborn hatred, staring straight at me.

Like a wild cat pinned down, ready to pounce again any second.

I was a pervert.

I got even harder.

"Wildcat, put your claws away!" I growled. "If you didn't want this, you shouldn't be selling yourself."

Her jaw tightened for a moment, then she looked down.

"That's not it." Her voice was low, hurt. "I was forced."

That was normal. Fathers, boyfriends, creditors... they shoved these girls into clubs like throwing out a bag of trash, as long as it brought cash.

She stopped struggling. Her shoulders sagged, like a small animal with its bones pulled out. The corners of her eyes were still red, a trace of moisture clinging to her lashes.

Something stabbed at my chest. I rolled off and lay beside her.

She froze. Didn't dare move.

"So tell me then. What's your name, and why are you here?"

She was quiet for two seconds, like she was counting her breaths.

"My name is Anna Bennett. I'm a student about to graduate."

I propped my head up, looking at her. Small frame, breasts just big enough to fit in one palm, skin white as a freshly peeled hard-boiled egg. She lay next to me, thin as paper, even her breathing carried a faint tremor.

She was the best drug. Just talking to her, and my craving came rushing back.

"Go on."

"My father had me taken away against my will and forced me to be auctioned off my... virginity."

She paused. That one word lingered on her lips for a long time, like a jagged stone she could neither swallow nor spit out.