Viktor(20)

I do.

I do because I probably could and would have let her sister go, even if after only a few hours.

But her?

My skin erupts into goose bumps as she pushes her boobs in my face and then sits down with her back facing me. She grabs my hands and places them on her waist as she twirls around on my lap, probably aware of the huge hard-on in my pants. She’s probably used to it, with the line of work that she’s in, and I don’t feel any shame for having a hard dick.

If she asks me, I won’t deny it. I want her. Badly.

I’ve wanted her ever since she stepped foot into my home.

There’s just something about her … her aloofness, the mystery behind her eyes … the confidence she has when she’s near me. Near anyone, for that matter.

It’s intoxicating.

At this moment, I find myself leaning forward to take in her scent. She smells of sandalwood and roasted nuts. She smells of something I want to savor, so I keep sniffing desperately trying to stop myself from gripping her clothes and ripping them off.

I’m crazy.

We don’t know each other. Her presence here is dangerous, and her behavior both infuriates and excites me. But I’m so fucking drawn to her that I can’t even fucking stop it anymore.

My hands move on their own, sliding up her body, wanting to feel her breasts. It’s wrong, so wrong, but I’m lost in her scent, the music, her.

My fingers inch over her peaked nipples protruding from the fabric. I can feel her inhale against my chest, her body rising with me. And she lets me. She fucking lets me.

I hiss and say, “Fuck.”

I have to put a stop to this before it’s too late. Before I pull off my mask and kiss her. Before she sees me for who I really am.

I lower my hands to the small of her back and push her off me.

“Let me dance for you,” she says as she gets off my lap and continues dancing anyway.

She pulls her top over her head, exposing her black lace bra, and then pulls her skirt down too, showing the matching panties. “This is what you want, right? Me?”

I bite my lip and look up at her. “You have no fucking clue.”





Chapter 7





Viktor





She’s fucking beautiful with her black hair swaying across her shoulders as she dances, exposing the intricate bird tattoo on the back of her shoulder. The birds flutter freely across her back and shoulder, disappearing into her skin like the sky. She’s entrancing to look at, and she knows it too well.

She slides forward on her knees, and within seconds, her fingers are around my belt, pulling it loose. “Then let me give it to you.”

She pulls at the button and zipper, but I grasp her wrist in time before she pulls my hard cock out.

“No,” I say, jerking it away.

She makes a face. “I thought you wanted this.”

“Not like that,” I say, and I push her away.

She looks at me with eyes that speak the truth. Eyes that show me who I really am. With disgust. “Well, fuck you,” she spits. “You don’t want me to dance, you don’t want me to fuck you, so what do you want?”

I want her … to want me. But I know she won’t want me.

“I don’t want your lies,” I say, running my fingers through my hair. “You finished?”

“Fine.” She gets up from the floor and picks up her clothes, putting them on again.

Too bad, I kinda liked the view.

“Why do you have to be such an asshole?” she asks.

“Because you’re trying to distract me, and it’s not working.”

“I’m just trying to show you that I’m not as bad as you think I am. I can be good … to you.”

“So you can seduce me to let you go.”

She takes in a sharp breath.

“Forget it,” I say. “What do you want? This or the cops?”

“Why do I even have to choose?” she says.

“Because you’re a criminal.”

She folds her arms. “And I’m a prisoner in your home, which makes you a criminal too.”

“Who do you think they’ll believe, you or me?” I smirk when I see her angry face. I know she knows I’m right.

“Whatever. I’m done. I came here to make you happy. Obviously, it isn’t working.”

“You were in here for a reason, but it wasn’t so you could dance.”

She glances at me over her shoulder. “How would you know? I just said I did.”

I lean back in the chair. “Because you’d never dance for me like that if it wasn’t just a way to cover up for something.”

“Hmpf.”

Her lack of response tells me I’m right. Still, it stings.

She tries to leave, but I grab her hand. “Wait.” When she looks me in the eye, I ask in a serious tone, “What were you doing in here?”