Page 93 of His Enforcer

I shift closer, pulling his back to my chest and dragging my other hand up to his neck. It’s my favorite part of him. One of them at least. I feel his Adam’s apple bob against my palm and feel the vibration of a groan hit my skin.

“What is it you want, pretty boy?” I ask as I slide two fingers into his mouth.

He sucks on them slowly, his tongue twisting around them, leaning into my body as he does.

I hold him up, feeling the wet pressure against my fingers and knowing that could be my cock.

The obsession I have with him is unreal.

His eyes never leave the men in front of us as I fuck his mouth faster.

“You do know already that I won’t share,” I say. “You let another man touch you and I’ll skin them alive. You’re mine. All mine.”

My tongue slides up his neck and I bite down on his jaw, releasing a strangled cry. I could pull him into a room right now and bend him over, could stretch that hole open with my cock and make him scream.

“You like that, hm? Me owning you? I bet you’d let me put you on a leash and make you crawl. Like the dog you are.”

He whimpers, and I bite at his earlobe.

“Say it, Vik. Tell me who you belong to, like a good little boy.”

My fingers slip from his mouth, and he blinks over at me. His spit-slick lips move as he rasps, “Yours.”

I step away from him, and he turns to look at me, confusion lining his face.

“Come on,” I say, grabbing his hand and pulling him forward. He stumbles behind me, past two women, one on her knees, the other leaning against the wall and moaning.

The sounds of sex are everywhere, permeating the spaces between the cracks in the walls and ceiling. But then again, that’s why I created this. For this purpose.

Seems the clientele are enjoying themselves. Sabrina’s employees are working hard.

The money I’ll get from this. The way our businesses will thrive.

And yet none of it seems to matter because Viktor is here. Owning him will be worth so much more than all of this.

As I step forward, guiding him to the empty room on my left, several people exit the door to my right. By the way they move, I can tell they’re high on drugs and drunk on sex.

Their staggering movements cause them to fall into us and it breaks my contact with Viktor. Within seconds, he’s jostled away from me. Agitation slides through me as I crane my head to find him, but he’s not there. The group of people who stumbled out have carried him away.

I can’t even see him, and he hasn’t made his way back to me.

What the fuck?

I inhale sharply and something familiar wafts over me, the faint scent of gasoline. That, coupled with the dark hallway, makes something inside of me flip sideways. I know it could all be reasoned away, but at this moment, I can’t adhere to logic. At this moment, I’m just that little boy again.

Trapped.

My breath catches and I push forward, not sure what’s happening but feeling that tingle of panic at the base of my neck.

It’s the same dread that seeped into me when I saw those men all those years ago on my front porch, ski masks covering their faces, gas cans in one hand, guns in the other.

I’ll never forget those eyes. They were hollow, dead.

They felt nothing as they burned my family.

The scent of burning wood, flesh.

Everything suddenly narrows.

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