Page 11 of His Grip

“You don’t get to decide that,” she declared, her voice steady.

Viktor’s lips curved into a humorless smirk, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Haven’t I already?”

The memory of his kiss from the night before blazed in her mind—how his lips had claimed hers with an intensity that erased every thought but him. It wasn’t just the act; it was how he’d taken her, demanded her, and consumed her in a way that made her hate herself for craving it.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she snapped, trying to shake free of his grip.

His brow arched, amusement flickering in his gaze. “Like what? Like you’re mine?”

“You don’t own me,” she spat, her voice sharp enough to slice through the tension.

“No,” he replied, his tone softening dangerously, like a predator playing with its prey. “Not yet.” His thumb grazed her wrist, sending a jolt of unwelcome sensation coursing through her.

She pulled back, but his hold didn’t waver. His lips pressed into a tight line, his stare drilling into her, unflinching. For a moment, neither of them moved. “You’ll come to me of your accord soon enough,” he said, his voice laced with a dark promise. “But I’ll let you figure that out on your own.”

The words hit her like a slap, twisting her stomach in knots. For a moment, all she could think about was pushing him away,but her body—damn it—her body didn’t listen to her mind. His touch had an effect on her that she couldn’t explain and didn’t want to change. Everything about him made her weak in ways she couldn’t fight.

Viktor’s gentle teasing of her neck, the weight of his hand on her wrist, the sizzling tension in the air—all of it pulled her back to that moment. To his lips, and how he’d kissed her as if claiming her, as if her will didn’t matter.

Sofia’s body trembled, betraying her as a wave of heat engulfed her. She understood his game—a seductive dance of power and pleasure. Yet, her physical response to him was undeniable, an irresistible force drawing her closer. A scorching heat pooled between her thighs, and she cursed silently, resenting her body’s traitorous reaction.

She inhaled deeply, a futile attempt to reclaim her autonomy as she tried to free her wrist from his iron grip. It was one of the hardest things to do, as a part of her wanted this—wanted to be under Viktor’s command, and craved the feel of his hands on her body. Still, she wrestled against him, but Viktor was relentless, advancing with purpose, towering over her like a storm cloud ready to unleash its fury.

“I advise you against refusing, baby girl,” he growled, his voice a low rumble that awakened emotions in Sofia she hadn’t known she was capable of. “Don’t test me.”

His hand wrapped around her waist, fitting into his palm like it was always meant to be. Sofia expected him to say something grand, to tell her that the cosmos had aligned for this moment. But instead, Viktor showed her with his actions, not words. His fingers splayed on her waist, tracing the supple skin there, causing her to falter. He moved gently, lingering on the curve of her hip, his palms cupping both sides. It was too close to her core, and she imagined him veering off, his fingers tugging at the hem of her pants.

“What are you thinking, Sofia?” he murmured, cupping her ass in his hands.

She gasped, her knees nearly buckling beneath her. Her hands instinctively reached for his shoulders, gripping him for support, certain she would spiral to the ground if she didn’t have something to hold on to. Her eyes darted to the door, and she imagined running for it, knowing full well that Viktor wouldn’t stop her. But his aura kept her rooted to the spot, arresting every bit of her will.

“About how much I hate you,” she murmured.

“You know that’s not true. I’m always in your thoughts, always ingrained in your being. Although you struggle so hard to convince yourself otherwise, you can fool everyone but me.”

Maybe that was true. Sofia couldn't deny it to herself, but having him know felt like handing him a loaded weapon. He could ruin her. And deep down, maybe, just maybe, she wanted him to. The pause that hung between them was suffocating, filled with unspoken promises and veiled threats. She could feel the haze growing thicker as if the very walls were pressing in around her, the air charged with electric tension. Viktor's proximity made every drawn breath a struggle, every moment a battle she wasn’t sure she could win. Her body, traitorous as ever, was betraying her resolve.

“Why do you make this so complicated, Sofia? It shouldn’t have to be this way.”

“Because you refuse to see me as anything other than your possession!” she shouted. “I’m not a trophy, and I’ll never be just another notch on your belt!”

“You fight me, and yet…” He leaned in slightly, his breath brushing against her lips, causing her heart to hammer in her chest. “You don’t pull away completely.”

“O-Only because your grip is so damn tight! You’d think I’d be used to this by now.”

“Oh, Sofia,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You’ve never been used to being desired, have you? You’re like a moth drawn to the flame, trying to convince yourself the heat is a dangerwhile you’re secretly craving it.”

“Don’t flatter yourself. I mean, sure, you’ve got a piercing gaze and a strong grip, but that doesn’t mean?—”

“Exactly,” he interrupted, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

His confidence was disarming, and a part of her—a foolish, reckless part—was intrigued. “You think you know me that well?”

“Oh, I don’t think, Sofia. I know. Every clash of wills, every heated word—it all tells me you’re more than just a reluctant bride. You’re a puzzle waiting to be solved, and mark my words, I will enjoy figuring you out.”

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered.

“Yet here you are,” he countered, his tone lightening. “What were we talking about again? Ah, yes! Your futile attempts to resist.”

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