Page 1 of His Enforcer

PROLOGUE

THREE YEARS AGO

VIKTOR

Imake my way through the dimly lit room, feeling eyes slide my way, tracking up and down my bare skin. A shiver of anticipation moves through me and my teeth sink into my bottom lip.

I have a secret—one no one knows, but me.

A hand brushes against my waist and down to the firm globes of my ass, making me whimper slightly, the color of the collar around my neck indicating that I don’t mind being used by the men in the room.

Free use, they call it.

I’m at their mercy, completely at their whim.

A finger traces up my ass crack and I’m pushed forward roughly, my hands grabbing onto the ornate wooden chair in front of me as the man behind me slots his dick at my hole and pushes in.

I groan at the rough intrusion, his thick cock entering my slickentrance without any warning or finesse. But that’s why I’m here. I come here weekly to be used, to let off steam.

My job is stressful, my life always on the line, and so I find solace in not having to think. To just be used like a sex toy.

I want them to take the decision away from me. I don’t want to have to make any while I’m here. I want to justbe.

Skin slaps against skin as the man fucks me. My eyes close, dick throbbing between my legs, bouncing in the confines of my lace jockstrap. I can feel people positioned around the large ornate room watching me, some touching themselves, others fucking their partners as I get railed. Groans and gasps meet my ears, some of them my own, but most from the people finding pleasure in the scene before them.

There’s a reason Eden is so expensive to join. It’s a club that caters to the elite, offering up sin on a silver platter.

Normally, I wouldn’t be able to afford such a place, but I received an invitation because of who I work for and was given an ample discount because of my preference to be used. Or, at least, that’s what I assume.

One of the hostesses let it slip the first month that some of the men in attendance come here just for me.

“You’re a fan favorite, Viktor.”

The more I contemplate why I got an invite, the more I believe that it’s my preference to let them fuck me however they want. It’s the only theory that makes sense.

How they found out that I like this is beyond me, but I guess word gets around. And honestly, I wasn’t upset by it. I may have preened at the sentiment of being the preferred bottom at the establishment, may have carried myself a little straighter when I walked through the dressing room doors and into the dimly lit space to change.

As I’m thrust into, I let my gaze roam, taking in the people around me. I don’t recognize most of them. Usually I come here onSunday nights, but I find myself here on Thursday after a particularly stressful day at work.

And work is always stressful as a soldier—or a bodyguard, as the mainstream likes to call it—for a mob family. Not that I tell anyone about my job, but that’s what I do. Day in and day out.

And while the assignments I take on can be arduous, the majority of my stress comes from the underboss of the Costello family, Luca Rossi.That man… I huff loudly, my hole contracting around the cock inside of me. He infuriates me, drives me crazy. I hate working under him. I fuckinghate it.

A groan slips from my mouth as my cock throbs between my legs.

No, I won’t think of him while being fucked.

I refuse.

He makes me feel things—things long ago buried and yet deeply engrained, as if he’s a part of me somehow. As if I’ve known him in another life.

It makes no sense.

Nothing about him makes sense.

And still, I can’t help the way he infiltrates my mind in the middle of the night, calling out to me, to my body, to my soul.

Fuck, I hate him.

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