“Viktor—”
He kissed me.
Not gentle. Not soft. Hard and desperate and tasting like rain and blood and everything we'd been holding back for weeks. His mouth was demanding against mine, claiming, and I opened for him without thinking. Without hesitation.
The taste of him—iron and salt and something that belonged only to Viktor—lit up every nerve, every ruined corner I thought I’d buried beneath titles and duty. His teeth found my lower lip, a drag that bordered on pain, then soothed it with the slip of his tongue. No space left for anything but hunger. His breath shuddered against my cheek as our mouths crashed, parted, met again. My hands fisted in the lapels of his jacket, dragging him in until there was no room for doubt, no way to hide the want.
A tremor ran through him, hips pressing to mine with ruthless intent. The heat between us built with every grinding kiss, every filthy sound wrenched from my throat. His palm found the back of my neck, thumb skimming the pulse that thudded wild beneath my skin. The world shrank to that touch, the demand and promise tangled in his grip. My lips parted for him, greedy for every taste, every ragged inhale he fed me.
Viktor’s hand slid down, thumb catching my jaw, angling me for a deeper kiss. He devoured every protest I might have made, tongue pushing into my mouth until I was swallowing him whole, until I forgot my own name. My pulse jackhammered against his chest, both of us hard, trapped by fabric and need, friction turning savage as I arched up into him. His thigh slotted between mine, rough wool pressing hard between my legs. I rocked against him, shameless and shaking.
His other hand bracketed my hip, fingers digging in, forcing me to feel the bruises from the fight and the new ones he was making. Every drag of his mouth down my throat left a mark, invisible but searing. My hands slid up beneath his jacket, searching for skin, for proof that this wasn’t a fever dream or another night of longing gone unsatisfied. The line of his back, the flex of muscle as he pinned me to the wall, all of it became a lifeline.
“Tell me to stop,” he growled, voice scraped raw against my ear. “Say it and I’ll walk away.”
“Don’t you fucking dare.” My own voice sounded unrecognizable—hoarse, desperate, pleading and furious all at once. “Take what you want.”
His mouth crashed against mine again, a clash of teeth, spit, broken oaths. The sharp edge of his stubble burned my chin as he kissed me hard enough to leave me gasping. Viktor’s hands mapped my body through layers, pressing me harder into stone and shadow, making me feel every inch of him, every heartbeat out of control.
I dragged my mouth from his, breath coming ragged. “You want this?” My forehead pressed to his, sweat mingling with the remnants of rain. “All this time, watching me fall apart. This what you wanted?”
His answer was a hand at my throat, not tight enough to hurt, just enough to own me. “I want you begging,” he whispered, eyes wild and dark. “I want to hear you break for me.”
The words detonated in my chest. I ground up against his thigh, cock aching for friction. “You want me desperate? You want me ruined?” I could barely speak, lost in the hunger radiating off him. “You want to see what happens when you finally stop pretending?”
Viktor’s mouth was everywhere—my jaw, my ear, the corner of my mouth, biting, licking, nipping hard enough to bruise. My shirt collar was askew, buttons strained, his teeth worrying the skin where neck met shoulder. “Keep talking,” he ordered, voice unsteady. “Tell me what you want.”
My head fell back against the wall. I could barely think, just feel. “Want your mouth. Want your hands. Want you to remind me what it means to be alive.”
He slid a hand down, cupping me through my slacks, palm rough and possessive. “Like this?” he whispered, squeezing just enough to steal my breath. My hips jerked, helpless, into his grip. “Or do you want me on my knees for you, prince?”
I choked on a moan, fingers clutching at his shoulders. “Want you everywhere,” I managed, voice shaking. “Want you to ruin me. Want to taste you, feel you, forget everything except your hands on me.”
Viktor’s thumb pressed into the hollow below my jaw, tilting my head. “You want my mouth?” he taunted, brushing lips over mine, not kissing, just hovering. “You want to see what I do when nobody’s watching? When you’re mine?”
I tried to catch his mouth, but he pulled back, denying me, breath hot against my cheek. My body arched for him, straining for contact. He grinned, feral and mean, then captured my mouth again, biting down hard. His tongue fucked into my mouth, filthy and possessive, leaving me dizzy.
He broke away just enough to let his hand trace down my chest, fingers skating over my racing heart, nails scraping lines that burned through the thin fabric. His palm found my waistband, paused there, thumb slipping beneath the hem, teasing, never quite giving in. I writhed against him, teeth gritted, cursing under my breath.
“Please,” I finally gasped, pride forgotten. “Please, Viktor.”
A growl vibrated low in his throat. “That’s it. Beg for it.” His hand slid further, cupping me, stroking me through the heat of my trousers, slow and relentless, rolling his hips so I could feel exactly how hard he was, trapped against my thigh.
His lips traced my jaw, his teeth nipping the hinge, dragging sparks of pain that set my blood alight. “You have no idea what I want to do to you. How long I’ve thought about it.”
My answer was nothing but a shudder, breath caught and broken in my chest. My knees threatened to give out, clutching at his shoulders for balance as I pressed in, greedy for every scrap of friction he’d give. His mouth worked its way down my throat, the stubble of his jaw burning a trail I’d feel for hours.
Lifting me was nothing for Viktor—strength wrapped in control,his arms locking tight around my waist, his hands so fucking sure. My legs went around his hips, desperate to keep him close, thighs shaking as he pinned me between himself and the wall. Every inch of him pressed into me, solid, hungry, unyielding. Our chests dragged together, heartbeat to heartbeat, my lips parted and hungry for more.
Viktor’s grip found the curve of my ass, fingers digging through fabric, hauling me higher until my back arched and my cock ground hard against his stomach. The position left me open, vulnerable, but all I could feel was his possessive strength and the heat building between us, obscene and beautiful.
My arms wrapped around his neck, fingers tangling in hair gone damp from rain and sweat. “You want to ruin me?” My voice sounded raw, needy, closer to a whimper than a question. “Show me.”
Viktor’s mouth caught mine again, open, searing, his tongue pushing deep to claim every secret I’d never meant to give away. Between kisses, his breath ghosted hot over my lips. “You have no idea what you do to me. Been dreaming about this, every fucking night, watching you strut around this palace, testing my patience.”
His words set something loose inside me. My hips rolled against him, seeking friction, desperate and unashamed. Every drag of my body against his sent sharp pleasure coiling up my spine. “Prove it,” I managed, gasping as his hands squeezed tighter, rocking me against his cock, still straining behind those sharp suit trousers.
The world tilted as Viktor carried me from wall to bed, steps slow and controlled, every stride a silent promise. My legs clamped harder, ankles locking at the small of his back, chests sliding together. With every movement, my cock rubbed against his belt, the friction exquisite, a cruel tease that made me grind harder, hungrier.
