Page 76 of His Enforcer

I told myself I’d never be beholden to another, and yet, here I am…giving in.

Viktor shuffles even closer and my hand guides him to it, watching as that pretty mouth engulfs me. He’s so fucking good at this. My body starts relaxing almost immediately, letting him workme toward the edge. Effortless. He hums happily around me, and I stroke his face while he takes me.

And when I come, it’s slow, a gentle rolling of my hips, a small gasp as he swallows my release.

Then he lays his face on my thigh and licks his lips.

“This doesn’t change anything,” he says softly.

I don’t stop touching him.

“Oh, kitten, this changeseverything.”

“What are you doing down here?” I ask Anthony when I find him beneath the house in his secret little photography studio. He’s hunched over his equipment in the darkroom and doesn’t even look over at me as he pulls a piece of film from the solution and begins hanging it on a drying rack.

“Just working on developing some pictures I took of Tatum.” He peers at me now, his eyebrow arching. “And you?”

“Was trying to find you,” I say, moving over to the pictures he has displayed, eyeing a completely naked Tatum splayed out in each of them. They’re beautiful, the angles, the lighting. Anthony has a great eye.

I’m glad he’s back to doing this, despite losing Laura all those years ago. I thought this hobby of his died with her.

I move around the room and see a wall dedicated to her. I make an appearance there too.

I remember those days. The three of us.

Together in many ways.

“Do you ever think of her?” I ask. It’s a stupid question. Of course he does. I do. Not as much as I used to when she died, but she appears sometimes in my mind when I least expect it. Almost as if to remind me she’s still around in her own way.

“Yes. It helps that Tatum likes to talk about her. He brings her up quite often.”

“You’re lucky,” I say, moving my gaze away from her piercing smile.

It always made my heart flutter. In much the same way Viktor’s seems to do.

When he smiles at me, that is. Which isn’t often.

Or ever.

I huff, and Anthony asks, “What was that for?”

“Just thinking.”

“Of who?”

“Why do you think it’s someone?”

“Because I think it’s Viktor.”

I don’t say anything, and Anthony moves up beside me, his arm brushing against mine.

“You’re obsessed with him.”

“I’m not.”

“You are. You have that same look in your eyes. You want to chase him, want to overpower him. You want to take him.”

My skin tingles at the thought, but I just stay silent.

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