Page 42 of Violent Love: Viktor
Then—heat. His mouth. It closed over my nipple and I arched.
A sharp nip of teeth. A soothing lick. My hands gripped the sheets as my back bowed toward him, offering more, offering everything. I gasped into the leather, writhing under his attention.
His mouth dragged to the other side, sucking, biting, worshipping and punishing all at once. I could feel every movement through the plug buried inside me—every twitch of my thighs set it off. I moaned, silent and desperate.
I turned my masked face toward where I thought he was, aching to show him I wanted more. That I needed him. My cunt throbbed with emptiness, slick already dripping down my thigh.
He stopped again. My whole body went still.
Then his voice. Low. Teasing. Cruel.
“You want more?”
I nodded hard. Once. Twice. My chest rose and fell like I’d been running.
“Prove you can suffer in silence.”
My breath hitched. I swallowed down the urge to whine. I clenched the sheets and held still.
His weight shifted. A warm hand slid down my belly. Slower than before. Torturous. It skimmed between my thighs—just the outer folds. He didn’t press in. He didn’t claim. Just… hovered.
I whimpered again, this one broken, pleading, but he said nothing.
The touch disappeared.
Gone.
He moved off me entirely. The space beside me turned cold.
I lay in darkness, heart pounding, soaked, aching, stuffed full—but empty.
The only thing I could do was wait.
And want.
Chapter 19
Viktor
I lit a cigarette and dialled the Pakhan.
She was still lying where I left her—on her side, tail curved, mask zipped shut, hands tucked against her chest like a sleeping hound.
“She’s responding,” I said, exhaling smoke.“Faster than I expected.”
The Pakhan didn’t speak, just let me fill the silence.
“She hasn’t spoken in over three weeks. Not even a whimper unless it’s to beg.” I took another drag.“Subspace is her new home. The girl’s nearly gone.”
His voice was calm.“And the conditioning?”
“Complete. After an initial punishment, she never stepped out of line again. The next steps will erase any remnants of her past. She’ll never be a threat to us, Batushka,” I said confidently.
“Good,” he replied.“But don’t get sentimental.”
I glanced at her small, curled form in my bed.
“I won’t,” I said, then hung up.
