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Tears welled up in my eyes and my heart sank into my stomach. I recalled the memory of Anton and my skin crawled.
“That night, she came back home a bloodied mess, barely able to walk or speak. But her tears told me all I needed to know. I hunted them down and made sure I didn’t stop until I found them. The two fucking maggots got what they deserved.”
I knew he had tried to soften the account of the horrible situation and not make it as gruesome as it must have been, but even then, I didn’t want to know what he had done to the attackers. Nevertheless, he told me, tightening his grip on my wrists unconsciously and without remorse or emotion in his voice.
“Rammed two broken glasses into their eyes after I cut off their thin dicks. And I was sixteen. And that was my ticket to the Bratva. The Pahkan questioned the teenager who dared to kill these men, and he decided that he liked fearlessness.”
He let out a deep and long sigh, my forehead fell against his sternum, and I burst into tears, overwhelmed by everything: the kidnapping, Viktor’s terrible past, what had happened to his sister, and the knowledge that I had blood on my hands.
“I want to forget, Viktor...” I cried. “I want to forget it all.”
He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me to him. The weight of his strong biceps and the warmth of his body enveloped me like a protective blanket. I knew I felt safe from the moment I relaxed into his embrace, and I longed for it to stay that way. I longed for him.
His thumb gently stroked the small cut on my bottom lip, and I shuddered as he brought his mouth closer to mine. “I can take it all away if you let me.”
“How?” I sniffled. The whooshing sound of my pounding heart filled my ears.
Viktor grinned dangerously at me and breathed in my ear. “I'll make you feel good. You know I want you, my little dove.”
His cherry breath and masculine scent scrambled my senses, I was at this man's mercy. A man who was far too attractive and charming yet could be so brutal.
“Please,” I whispered, my fingers curled into his T-shirt. “Make me forget.”
The heat in his eyes and his desire for me only fueled my need for him.
“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He growled and brushed his lips across my neck and to my mouth.
I whimpered when he claimed my mouth, parting my lips for him to take more.
In twenty-two years, I have only kissed two guys. One was a jerk I had to kiss at a shitty party in high school in a truth-or-dare game, and the other was an accident. We greeted each other with air kisses on the cheeks and touched lips. His name was Liam, a friend's cousin, and honestly, it wasn’t even a kiss.
But Viktor ...
My eyes fluttered closed and I leaned into the kiss. There was something fierce and possessive about his touch as he slid his hand through my hair and deepened the kiss. The way his tongue gently swiped mine and pushed in deeper made me weak at the knees. He knew exactly what he was doing, and I craved more. It left a strange ache in my chest, but it didn’t matter that he was no saint. A man like him was expected to have an army of women at his beck and call. What mattered was this moment. I wanted him to make me forget.
He nipped, sucked, and kissed me so deeply that I felt sinful, even selfish. His mouth was hot, needy, possessive, and maybe I should have been terrified, but I wasn’t. It was all too thrilling.
Pulling back to catch his breath, he let out a deep, raspy chuckle at my dissatisfied whine. His large hands cupped my butt cheeks and lifted me effortlessly off the floor. I straddled his waist, my hands wrapped around his neck and my fingers clawed into his hair.
Warm moisture gathered between my thighs, and it didn’t help when the strain of his erection pressed my center through his jeans. Shamelessly, I rubbed myself against him, kissing his neck over his soft stubble and sucking on the skin under his ear.
“Fuck, Ava, you're driving me crazy.” The words came out in a low growl, his gaze dark and feral.
A deep moan echoed in my throat, and I allowed lust to consume me. Lust for this man who held me and kissed me as if I were his most precious property. He squeezed the curves of my ass and pushed us to the bed, dropping me like a fragile bride. I was overwhelmed, I didn’t think a man like him would want a girl like me, and I couldn’t get a coherent word out.
My gaze traveled over his perfect body, I couldn’t take my eyes off his crotch, as he pulled his jeans and briefs down his firm thighs. He arched an eyebrow and grinned sheepishly. My breath caught and my body was on fire, as his cock sprung free of his clothes.
“Eyes on me, little dove.”
I blushed and nodded, ashamed that I had been caught staring at him. He nestled between my legs and pulled off the cotton underwear with a tug of his fingers.
The blood rushed like a turbulent wave in my ears as his eyes hungrily feasted on the glistening between my legs. He mumbled something in Russian and ran his finger through my wet folds. I bit my lips and stifled a moan. “English,” I hissed.
But he did not repeat himself. The silence between us was almost deafening as his massive body leaned over me, his fingers teasing up the inside of my thigh to my warm center. I didn’t know what to do, so I pulled his head down and kissed him; and to my surprise, he responded without holding anything back. His weight pressed me deeper into the mattress in the most comforting way. Heat and desire blossomed under my skin.
He broke the kiss, pulled back, and studied my face as his thick finger pushed inside me. My eyes rolled to the back of my head. God ...
“You’re a quiet one.” He grunted.
