Page 4 of Violent Love: Viktor
Not likeKrolik’sdefiance—no, that was forged steel. This was different. Natalya was fragile and raw, a nerve exposed.
There was no resistance. No screaming or begging.
She simply knelt, still and obedient like an offering laid at my feet.
Was it the gun?
Of course it was.
She was reacting to the threat, submitting to the fear. That was expected, natural.
But I saw more than that.
Not just fear.
Potential.
She was waiting—not for mercy, but for instruction.
Not because she was broken.
But because something inside her wanted to be shaped.
Not now. Not yet. But one day, she might kneel like this without the threat of violence. She might crave it. Choose it.
Not out of fear—
But devotion.
To me.
Her Master.
My cock throbbed behind the steel of my belt at the thought, and I wondered if she’d taste like salt when I made her cry harder.
Time to take a leaf from my Pakhan’s book.
I gripped her jaw until her mouth opened and slid the barrel between her lips. Her eyes snapped wide. I could’ve sworn they’d pop from her skull. Her body trembled, her breathing shallow and broken. She stared at me like I was death itself.
I didn’t blink.
It didn’t matter what she thought of my face.
“Do you want to live,suka?”Bitch.
No answer. I narrowed my eyes.
She was in shock. Or suicidal. Either way, her life was gone.
Then it happened. Her pupils dilated. Black widened, bleeding into green and brown. Fight-or-flight kicking in.
I’d seen fear in a thousand eyes. None of it compared to this.
She was ripe. Ready to be broken. Trained. Owned.
“Da,” she whispered, tongue pushing against the gunmetal.
I smiled.
