Page 52 of His Enforcer

LUCA

Viktor left my house early this morning, which is fine by me. I didn’t fucking sleep a wink knowing he was right down the hall, his pretty cock hard and aching, leaking onto the bed. I could almost feel his frustration and it took everything inside of me not to crawl into bed with him, flip him over, and give him exactly what he wanted.

He’s seeped so far into me that I’m not sure I can extricate him anymore.

Working so closely with him is a detriment to my mental health. Viktor has always been a part of the family. I know he’s extremely loyal to Anthony, and that he feels he owes Anthony his life.

And in a way, he does.

Anthony took him in when no one else would, but then again, he’s always been a bit of a sucker for kids who need a home.

When he was younger, Viktor used to watch me intently, his eyes never leaving me when I was in the same room. Anthony joked hehad a crush, but I never got that impression. Maybe a bit of hero worship, if anything.

But then that awe started to morph as he got older, and I could feel the hate emanating from him.

I don’t know what I did, but something about me agitates him. And in turn, he has me all twisted up inside.

I don’t like to be twisted.

Twisting others…I quite enjoy that.

The problem is now that Anthony is working less, things are being delegated to me, and Viktor is now a constant presence in my life. Inescapable.

The image of Viktor bent over the bed, his ass red, his cock pressed against the side of the mattress, dripping and angry, pops into my head, and I reach down and adjust myself.

I quite liked that. Making him cry and beg.

And watching him suck me off…

Perhaps I should make that a daily ritual.

The thought appeals. He was quite good at it. Probably at the better end of the blow jobs I’ve received throughout the years.

I huff and shake my head.

Probably one of the best ones I’ve gotten, if I’m honest.

No time for honesty, I think as I move into my bedroom and change. I have a meeting with Anthony today and then I’m heading to the fighting ring.

I pack up my duffle bag and peer at myself in the mirror. I look fucking tired. But after the fight, I’m sure I’ll feel alive. Maybe I’ll get some sleep tonight. Some would call me self-destructive. Seems I might be. At least I’m not boring.

The doorbell rings and I move toward it, my heart rate increasing as I pull the door open, seeing Viktor on the other side, looking just as tired as me.

Seems he didn’t sleep well either.

Good. We can both be miserable.

He scowls at me, and I can’t help the way my lips twitch inhappiness. I love riling him up, love getting him so frustrated his cheeks turn pink and his hands tremble.

Love how horny he is for me, despite hating it.

“You’re late,” I say, and his nostrils flare.

“I’m fucking not.”

“You are. I’ll have to let Anthony know about this.”

His hands fist near his sides. He looks like he’s going to punch me. Fuck, I’d love a chance with him in the ring, down and dirty, no holds barred. I want to watch him bleed while I hold his face down on that dirty concrete floor and fuck his ass raw.

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