Page 60 of His Enforcer

I lean back slightly, the towel slipping from my thighs, and Viktor’s eyes slide to my dick.

“You don’t want to be respected. You want to be owned. And who can own you, Vik?”

He wets his lips and I can see the bulge in his pants as he eyes me.

“Me. That’s who,” I answer when he doesn’t respond.

“Fine, asshole. I’ll stay, but I’ll sleep on the floor. I’m not sucking your dick again. That was a mistake.”

I lean back even further and then tug the comforter back. “Get the fuck in bed, Vik. And check the ceiling for spiders while you’re horizontal.”

He grinds his teeth but does as I say, clearing the room of any of those infernal arachnids before kicking his pants off, revealing the sexiest pair of panties, and sliding beneath the covers.

“Just stay away from me.”

I let out a chuckle as my eyes close, envisioning the ways I could rip that delicate piece of fabric from his ass. “I’ll stay away, but guess who will come crawling back to me?”

He doesn’t answer, but I can feel his breathing pick up.

“You. You’ll come crawling back. That’s who.”

8

VIKTOR

Fuck him.Fuck him. I hate this.I hate him.

I want him. I want him to own me.

I can’t fucking sleep because he’s so close to me.

No, it’s not because of that. I’m awake to make sure he doesn’t die. Not because I’m fighting with the ache deep inside of me, spiraling slightly as I think about what I could do to him. Of what he could do to me.

Own me.

Make me his.

He shifts near me, turning onto his side, his leg brushing against mine. The sensation of him against me sets my skin on fire.

Fuck. Anyone but him.

I think back to when we first met. I was straight off the street, haggard and beaten, when Anthony took me in. One of my eyes was swollen shut when I first laid eyes on Luca. He was younger than he is now, almost thirty, but he was just as potent, and I hated myself for having an instant reaction to him. For letting my eyes follow hisevery move, for letting my hormone-riddled mind conjure up scenarios.

Alone with him.

Him touching me.

He never looked my way, though. I was just a kid then, a kid with a silly crush. He never paid me any notice. And with each ignored encounter, with each brush-off from him, I got angrier.

I despised myself for wanting someone I could never have. Hated him for making me feel this way.

I’m prideful and arrogant, and I hate that the man I want doesn’t want me in return.

And yet, here I am. Still lusting after him.

But you did have him. For a few minutes, you were between his thighs, submitting to him.

I won’t go crawling back to him. He’s wrong. I fucking won’t.

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