Page 48 of His Grip

“I trusted you,” he continued, his eyes narrowing as he turned to face her. “I let my guard down, let you in, and you... you lied. You protected your father’s secrets while I fought a war I didn’t even know existed.”

Her lips parted, and she reached out, her hand trembling as she placed it on his chest. “I swear to you, Viktor. I never knew.Not until it was too late. I thought I could fix it. I thought I could make it right before it all fell apart.”

Viktor dropped his attention to her hand, still resting on his chest, and his jaw clenched. The soft warmth of her touch was like a fire against his ice-cold skin, a fire he couldn’t ignore, no matter how hard he tried. He pulled back slightly, his body tense with anger. He wanted to push her away, to reject her completely, but the heat between them, the pull he couldn’t resist, was undeniable.

She got closer, her eyes searching his, pleading for understanding. “Please,” she whispered again. “Don’t shut me out. Don’t push me away.”

The words hit him like a physical blow. Every part of him screamed to keep his distance, to make her pay for the hurt she had caused. But then, something shifted. His body betrayed him. His hand reached up, almost involuntarily, grabbing the back of her neck and pulling her toward him.

Before he could think, before he could stop himself, their lips crashed together.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t a tender kiss. No, it was raw, desperate. His lips were bruising against hers, demanding, unforgiving. He kissed her as if he needed her to feel the weight of his anger, the desperation of everything he had tried to ignore for so long.

Sofia gasped, but instead of pulling away, she responded in kind, her hands sliding up to his shoulders. Her lips parted beneath his, and the kiss deepened, hungry, frantic. Viktor’s body surged with need, his pulse pounding in his ears as every ounce of his restraint unraveled at that moment.

He wanted to pull away, to remind himself that this wasn’t right, that she had betrayed him. But the truth was, he couldn’t. The fire she ignited in him was far stronger than his rage. She was too close, too perfect in her fragility and strength. She wasthe one thing that made him forget the world, the one thing that could make him lose himself.

His hands moved to her waist, pulling her flush against him, feeling the heat of her body against his. His anger still simmered beneath the surface, but it was masked by an overwhelming desire that he couldn’t ignore. Not now.

Sofia’s hands were shaking as they moved to his chest, sliding down to tug at the hem of his shirt. He caught her wrist before she could pull it any further, his breath ragged as he broke the kiss. He looked down at her, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Viktor…” she sighed, her voice low, full of longing.

He clenched his jaw. She was his weakness. She had always been his weakness.

“I hate you for this,” he whispered harshly, his words a low growl. But even as he said it, his lips were on hers again, as if his body refused to listen to his mind. Their kiss deepened, the urgency in Viktor’s movements growing as his hands clenched around her waist, pulling her closer. Her body pressed against his, and he could feel the heat radiating from her, fueling the fire inside him. Every part of him screamed to pull back, to stop, to remind himself of the betrayal she had caused. But there was no stopping now.

Sofia’s hands were everywhere—tugging at his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, her fingers burning into his skin with an intensity that matched his own. She was pressing herself against him, her breath coming in quick bursts, as if she, too, could no longer hold back the flood of emotions. Viktor knew this wasn’t just about desire; it was about something deeper, something far darker.

Her lips parted, her breath hot against his ear. “Viktor…” She whispered his name like a prayer. Her hands moved to his belt, undoing it with swift precision, as if she knew exactly how to bring him to the edge. It was both maddening and intoxicating—this power she seemed to have over him, even now, even after everything.

Viktor’s hands encircled her hips, lifting her off the ground slightly, his lips trailing along her neck, tasting her skin as his mind fought to make sense of the chaos within him. He knew this wasn’t forgiveness; it wasn’t reconciliation. This was rage. This was passion. This was everything he had been trying to ignore.

"You don't deserve this," Viktor growled, his lips grazing the sensitive skin below her ear. He felt her shiver beneath his touch, and it only made him want her more. His hands slid to the back of her thighs, lifting her fully against him, the heat between them becoming unbearable.

Sofia’s breath hitched, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking them there, pulling him even closer as if she couldn’t stand to be apart for even a second. “I’m sorry… I know I fucked up, Viktor. I know I hurt you,” she whispered, raw with emotion, but her hands were still tugging at his clothes, urging him to feel her, to touch her more.

Viktor’s heart raced, his pulse thrumming in his ears. He couldn’t hear her apologies. He couldn’t hear anything beyond the sound of his own blood roaring in his head, the overwhelming need to have her, to take everything she was offering. His lips crashed against hers once more, a kiss that was savage, demanding, as if he was claiming her, marking her as his in every way.

His hands were frantic now, tearing at the buttons of her blouse, feeling the soft silk beneath his fingertips, his desire for her completely consuming him. But even as he undid her clothes, even as he kissed her with the intensity of a man driven by his own demons, a part of him still wanted to fight. He wanted to push her away. He wanted to remind her of the betrayal, remind her of the lies she had kept hidden. But herbody, her scent, her touch—it all felt too powerful, too much of a temptation.

When his hands finally found her skin, her soft curves, the heat between them was unbearable. He growled in frustration, needing more, needing everything. He pulled away just enough to look at her, his chest rising and falling with each breath, his eyes dark with lust and something else—something dangerous.

“I should hate you right now,” Viktor said, sounding strained, though his hands never stopped caressing her. “But all I want is to tear you apart.”

Sofia’s lips curled into a faint smile, her defiance only making him want her more. “Then do it,” she challenged, her hands sliding up to his chest, pushing him back toward the wall. She didn’t wait for him to respond; instead, she kissed him again, hard, as if she were trying to prove something to him, to herself.

He responded with the same ferocity, pinning her against the cold wall, his body pressing her into the surface, his mouth hot and demanding against hers. His hands moved with a sense of urgency, as if every second spent in restraint was torture. His fingers skimmed over the smooth skin of her waist, tracing the line of her body with the hunger of a man starved.

But there was still that lingering bitterness—the knowledge that her father had betrayed him, that she had hidden the truth from him for so long. He wanted to push her away. He wanted to walk out and never look back. But his body betrayed him, his desire for her overriding his better judgment.

Her hands slid down to his jeans, unzipping them with an expertise that only made the ache in his body sharper. He groaned into her mouth as she freed his dick, her touch warm and soft, sending waves of pleasure through him. He could feel himself getting lost, his thoughts clouding with the overwhelming need to have her completely, to feel her like he had never felt anyone before.

Sofia’s name escaped his lips in a low rasp as he lifted her once more, this time not with anger or rage, but with a desperation that left him breathless. She was everything he wanted, everything he hated, all wrapped into one. As Sofia's body trembled beneath his, as their lips fought for dominance, Viktor’s mind warred with itself. For all his raging desire, there was still the faintest whisper of doubt gnawing at the edges of his thoughts—those bitter, accusing truths about Sofia’s betrayal. His mind wandered, just for a second, to the business at hand. He needed to focus, needed to detach from this moment, from the heat of her skin beneath his fingertips.

Pulling away reluctantly, Viktor dragged his lips from hers, his breath coming in harsh bursts. His eyes found hers, dark and full of fire, but there was no mistaking the turmoil in his chest. His body ached for her, but his mind still reeled from the confession. She had kept this from him, the betrayal of her father—and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could push that to the back of his mind.

Viktor forced himself to break their connection, to take a step back, to get his jean back up. Sofia’s hands were still on him, tugging at his shirt, but he needed to focus, needed to escape the storm of emotions she stirred within him.

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