Page 17 of His Enforcer

My thumb smooths over his Adam’s apple, and his eyes go slightly glassy.

He may fight it, but helikes it.

“Do as I say, Vik,” I say gently, and he nods, moving away from me and pressing his face against the wall, adjusting his arms and legs exactly how I want them. My eyes rove across his splayed body as I run a hand across my jaw.

It’s not enough.

This isn’t enough.

“I’m not getting the true feel for what this space will be used for. Pull your pants down.”

Carlos shifts on his feet near me, clearly uncomfortable, but I don’t give a shit. I pay him money to shut up and do what I want. I don’t want his opinion on this.

“I’m not doing that,” Viktor hisses, still not moving from his place against the wall.

I drop the cigarette onto the ground and grind it out with my shoe before stalking forward, reaching out and squeezing the back of his neck, shoving his cheek against the drywall even harder.

He grunts as my hand moves around to the front of his pants and I unbutton them, my fingers brushing against the bulge there. With a flick of my wrist, I unzip him and wrench his pants down his ass until they can’t move an inch more.

I hold him steady as I step back and glance down, taking in his dark blue lace panties. His ass cheeks flex and I can’t help but reach out and yank them up, the fabric moving up his ass crack. He gasps and then I hear it—a soft, desperate moan.

I step back, turning to look at Carlos, who is looking anywhere but me.

“What do you think?” I ask.

“Good, sir,” he murmurs, and I huff out a dark laugh, moving my gaze back to stare at Viktor still pressed against the wall, his ass cheeks hanging out, his eyes shut.

“Don’t fucking pretend you don’t love this,” I whisper into his ear before sinking my teeth into that fleshy lobe. His eyes flash open, and he scowls at me.

“I hateyou,” he murmurs, and I can’t help the way my hand fallsroughly on his ass cheek. It pinkens from the slap and Viktor purses his lips, his hips arching back just a fraction of an inch—almost invisible, but I see it.

I fucking see it.

“Pull your fucking pants back up. We have other places to go,” I grind out before turning back to Carlos, the two of us walking out of the room without a backward glance, leaving Viktor to scramble after us.

He’s pissed, fuming.

I like it more than I should.

When we get back to the car, Viktor’s cheeks are red, smoke coming out of his ears. Well, I’m unhappy as well.

I’m unsatisfied.

The things he makes me feel.

I pull out my phone, knowing that ignoring him bothers him more than he cares to admit, and that gives me a little thrill.

He starts the car without a word and we drive to the next location on our list, an MMA gym. Normally, I’d drive here myself, but I’m dragging him along today. I like the way he tries not to look when I’m shirtless, throwing punches in the ring.

I see the way he stares.

When we arrive at the worn-down building, one I’ve been using for years, I exhale a small sigh of relief. When I’m not boxing with Anthony, I’m here, blowing off steam and training for the underground fights I participate in when I feel like I’m going to explode.

My anxiety can only reach a certain level before I fucking need to cover it up with pain. The kind of pain that burrows under my skin and makes me feel alive again.

The only other time I’ve felt that was a night…three years ago.

“I’ll wait in the car,” Viktor says, but I point at him.

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