Chapter 22

 

London, England

 

Sophia’s fingers hovered over the print command. The echo of Viktor’s filthy promises was still in her ear, a sexy memory from the night before—or more accurately, this morning—after he’d taken her in that gym.

Her heart thudded in her chest as she finally hit the command. If she was headed down the road to heartbreak, she planned to savor every second before jumping off the cliff.

The sound of the printer warned her there was no going back.

“I thought you were seeing your Russian tonight?” Forde’s cultured voice made her jerk in the office chair, and her head shot to the side. He leaned elegantly on the doorway, in gray slacks and a white dress shirt, his jacket in hand. He looked nearly ready to head out for the night, playful grin in place, as he noted her demeanor. Though he seemed his roguish self, she swore there were shadows of something in his eyes.

“I will be. I wanted to print a report,” she evaded. It was a kind of report, just not her investment documents. “Jen’s meeting me here soon. I thought you were already gone.”

“I’m not leaving for a few more minutes.”

The sheet slipped free of the printer at that moment, and he swept it up before she could stop him. She didn’t bother lunging since it was too late for that.

His curious gaze drained of emotion.

“Don’t you wish you hadn’t been nosy?”

He seemed to have gone into a bit of shock. “You said report. This is your medical record, Sophia… Have you told Irina and Riot about this?”

Sophia swiped the page away, folded it, and slid it into her tote. “I’m aware of what it is, Forde.”

The resigned look on his face was one she’d seen over the years when he felt it his duty to dole out a brotherly lecture. “This is a serious step, one that’s risky even if you’re on birth control. Are you prepared for that?”

The cocky playboy had definitely gone “concerned older brother.” Sophia wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of this particular version of Forde.

“Weren’t you the one who told me it was okay to have fun?”

His mouth gaped open. “This is definitely not what I meant. Even I don’t have this kind of fun.”

Sophia chuckled at the horrified look on his face and at the words he’d chosen. “I’m being careful, Forde. I have less than a week left with him. Nothing after that is guaranteed, so I want this.”

Forde ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair.

“Stop worrying,” she chided.

He simply grunted.

“Have you heard any more from James?” she asked, swiftly changing the subject.

“We spoke about an hour ago. We may have a connection to one of Fahd’s school chums, David. An assistant of his made a short trip to Belgium during the time the ledger page would have changed hands. We’re looking into it.” Of any of the scenarios they’d considered, having one of Fahd’s old friends looking into the Swiss boy’s death made the best sense. Who else would want to dig up the past other than someone who’d lived it? They still needed to know what David hoped to gain, maybe closure for his part in the death? She could only hope.

“James did turn up some interesting things on the other names Viktor gave you.” Forde rubbed the back of his neck. “And it seems Kate and James were able to get a lock on the video feed in the bank vault. Now we wait for Jean Luc to go in, and we’ll hopefully have some video of what he’s hiding there. Once we know that, we can set up some way to get into the vault, but it won’t be easy.”

Sophia nodded. Jen had told her what Forde had learned about the bank’s high-tech safeguards. There was a reason the uberwealthy paid a fortune to hide their precious belongings there. Not only was it secure, it had specialized twenty-four-hour concierge services.

Jen walked into the bat cave, not giving Sophia time to dwell on things out of her control. Their teams were working hard to end the intrigue with Jean Luc.

Sophia grabbed her bag and stood. She gave Forde a quick wave, noting his warning frown as he told her, “Be careful.”

Sophia and Jen seemed to arrive at the car faster every time they made the trip to Viktor’s, but the drive itself dragged with the way Jen varied the short distance. The trip was now four times longer than the direct route would have been.

“Which you complain about every time,” Jen pointed out, though Sophia hadn’t realized she’d said anything.

Sophia didn’t want to think about the exhausting evening she’d spent making polite conversation with Hellshire. Those were wasted hours she’d spent being as stoic and unentertaining as possible. But that hadn’t stopped him from inviting her to the opera. Her remaining days in London were dwindling, and she hated being forced to spend them doing things she didn’t want to do for reasons she knew she couldn’t escape forever. At this point, it was all about getting more time with Viktor before the clock ran out.

When Sophia saw the gate ahead, a wave of relief filled her.

Once through, they drove into the open garage. Ivan stood inside. He had a slight scowl on his face, but this time, his suit was intact.

“You need a day off, Jen.” Sophia sighed. “This hasn’t been fair to you.” On the previous night, Jen had grudgingly admitted to being attracted to the Russian guard, but they both knew indulging herself while on the clock wasn’t Jen’s style.

“Guards don’t get days off during travel itineraries.” Jen’s matter-of-fact tone said she didn’t mind, that it came with the job. But Sophia wanted her friend to have some time to herself before or after shifts, even though that rarely happened.

They couldn’t argue about any of it after Jen had pulled into what Sophia had come to consider “their parking spot.”

Sophia felt the tension between the guards as they moved through the usual motions. She vowed to make it up to Jen for her demanding schedule.

When they stepped into the house and started in the direction of Viktor’s room, she stopped paying attention to what Ivan and Jen were doing.

After the room had been cleared and the blocking device set on the coffee table, Sophia stepped inside and felt the hum of anticipation licking at her soul.

Viktor met her at the door, eyes filled with the same heat they always held, but something else lingered there as well. Things felt different. The fireplace in the spacious, high-ceilinged sitting room was crackling, and the lights were dimmed, leaving a warm glow he usually saved for his bedroom.

“Would you like a drink?” he asked, but she lost the ability to answer when he twined his fingers with hers and led her toward the couch. His thumb stroked her much smaller one, and the gentle intimacy made her melt.

She couldn’t take her eyes off their hands.

“Sophia?”

Was he seducing her? That thought made her hesitate, a part of her wanting to know how that felt, the other part of her seeing it leading to disaster for her heart. The first part won as she decided to allow the intimacy for a while longer.

Her eyes moved to his, and she forced the words from her lips. “A drink sounds nice.”

He kissed her knuckles before relinquishing her hand. The soft touch of his lips left behind an echo of sensation.

“Champagne?”

Her mouth opened then closed before she finally spoke. “Yes.” It was her go-to drink, even when she wasn’t at a party or gala where it was offered up like water. Did he know that?

She saw the brand she preferred chilling in a silver ice bucket on the wet bar, and held back her pleasure. “Are we celebrating?”

He turned back to her with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Something like that.”

Something about his expression snapped the last thread of indecision. It was worth the risk to enjoy this moment, no matter if it hurt her later. At least she would have the memory of what it was like to be seduced by the man of her dreams.

He popped the cork on a champagne bottle, and Sophia kicked off her shoes before tucking her bare feet beneath her on the couch.

A soft warmth bloomed in her chest at the seemingly romantic gestures in the room. He could have just as easily led her to his room. She would have eagerly gone in that direction, and still planned to end there.

“How often do you stay here?” she asked, because the space fit him well, and even though talking was off-limits, his home wasn’t a secret. This was safe.

Her gaze swept the room. Everything was of the highest quality, yet it was comfortable and elegant. She could easily curl up to sleep in the soft confines of the couch. She turned to rest her forearm on the arm, watching the man pouring them drinks.

He’d stilled at her question, but only for a split second, before glancing over and answering, “At least a week or two out of the month. Sometimes more. This is one of my favorite homes.”

“It is beautiful…” Then she admitted, “I’ve always loved this neighborhood.”

Viktor returned with her glass, seeming pleased at her relaxed position on his furniture. She took the flute while noticing he’d poured himself a vodka. He sat right next to her. One-handed, he shifted her, sliding her feet over his lap. Her thin black dress rode over her thighs, the material soft and loose enough that she could easily slip it off. But she kept it on, waiting.

His fingers stroked one ankle then the next but hadn’t moved higher. She felt mesmerized by his simple touches as he chose his words. “What do you like about the neighborhood?”

She shook off her thrall by taking a sip of her drink, contemplating her answer. “The quiet, tree-lined streets. Maybe the history here.”

“Is there nothing like it in Porenza?”

Sophia twirled her glass. “Not really. You’ve never been to Porenza?”

He shook his head.

It was a hot spot for the wealthy. Porenza was postcard beautiful, but for Sophia, it was a prison, no matter how much she loved the people. The artistic small towns were bustling with music and Mediterranean cuisine she loved. But the hard truth was that she hated going back there. She felt caged the instant the plane landed on the island, and guilt ate at her because of that feeling.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” His deep rumbling voice soothed her.

She considered an answer before giving him the truth. “I don’t have good memories there.”

His hand on her foot stilled for only a moment before he resumed his lulling ministrations.

“Is Russia that way for you? You don’t have a home there.”

He grunted. “No, I don’t go to Russia.”

“Do you miss it?”

“I took everything I wanted when I left.”

“What about Feliks?” Was she really prying into his past when she wasn’t able to share her own?

Viktor smiled. “Feliks has gone back to DJ there. He does what he wishes.”

“Whether you like it or not?” she finished with a smile.

“Yes.”

“Is it dangerous?” Some of his cousins were said to be very dangerous men who’d kept ties to very bad things while in jail and later when they’d been released.

“Feliks is always well protected.”

“Does he know everything that happened?” Why do I care if Feliks knows the extent of his family’s history? Because she’d always liked Viktor’s brother, and knowledge truly was power. She would’ve bet there were a great many dangers in Russia for someone close to Viktor. Or maybe not. Maybe his past truly had been swept clean, but she doubted it.

Viktor had been young, only eighteen, when his father had died. The news accounts stated his uncle had taken over Viktor’s father’s financial empire, if not the man’s powerful political position. Anything involving reports of Viktor had said he’d left the country with his terminally ill mother and Feliks. Within a five-year span, deaths started piling up as an apparent war brewed within his uncle’s organization. It hadn’t been until after Viktor’s uncle was gunned down outside his favorite restaurant that the media started flooding with news of the longtime family involvement in human trafficking along with other heinous crimes, bribes, blackmail, and killings.

His cousins had ended up dead or jailed, as everyone involved had met a very calculated end. News reports had all seemed to cast blame on the Bratva. Sophia knew otherwise.

Anyone with underworld ties was well aware that Viktor had been in Russia through it all and that his family empire crumbled at his own hands. He’d been ruthless as he savaged the entire empire. Whispers said that he’d been his father’s son in the end—brutal and unforgiving to any who crossed him. Viktor had carved a bloody mark in the world that left him with a deadly reputation nearly a decade later.

She was well aware how power worked in their world. Viktor could have simply taken over and had it spun very differently in the media. The only thing he’d covered up had been his involvement, protecting himself where the authorities had been concerned.

The world believed he’d gone on to create his own financial empire through legitimate ventures, but she was well aware he’d dealt in his share of less than legal businesses through the years. His penchant for collecting the secrets of the powerful had likely paved the way in a lot of financial successes.

All in all, both society and the underworld saw him as a man not to be crossed for different reasons.

The look he slanted her made her aware that she’d treaded on dangerous ground with her question about Feliks. “I doubt many know everything that happened, but I never would have kept our family history a secret from Feliks. An internet search would have told him what I did not.”

“You never tried to hide your family’s history.” The words slid from her lips before she could stop them, and she found herself holding her breath.

He shook his head slowly. “No. My father’s and uncle’s legacies belong to them. I chose my path and have no regrets. Does that history bother you, Princess?”

She swallowed, her throat dry. “No, it doesn’t.”

He cocked a brow. “You’re sure? Not many know my full history.”

Was he toying with her? Secret for secret? “Are you offering your secrets for mine, Viktor?” she chided playfully.

“Would that convince you to trust me?” He was testing her. The look on his face said he would never share secrets that could incriminate him. Why bait her?

Stalemate.

He smoothly changed the subject after long moments. “What do you enjoy doing, Sophia?”

It was an innocuous question, something she should be able to answer easily, yet it wasn’t so simple. “I enjoy climbing.”

“Do you have a wall to practice on?”

She was forced to lie or give too much away. “Yes.” Her practice walls were in a few homes of her friends, not Porenza. She already hated the lie and the fact that she’d given him a small truth that led her there. If he chose, he could find out the palace had no such amenity.

He was watching her too closely, and it soured her stomach that so much of her life was off-limits. All the good things in her life, she would never be able to share—nothing about her friends or how she’d learned to climb. It just proved how impossible a relationship would be if she were to ever try.

He shifted the conversation to simpler things before she bolted. He asked about music and entertainment, and she was grateful. Those questions she could answer, and that settled her nerves. While they talked, his fingers moved from her ankles and calves down to her arches.

She closed her eyes as a moan escaped her. When he stilled, her eyes popped open again.

“Sophia.” It was a warning and a promise mixed into one.

“Yes.” The huskiness in her voice conveyed her desire clearly, if his heated glance said anything.

At some point, she’d finished her champagne. He slipped the glass from her hand and set it down on the table. His went with it.

With little effort, he pulled her into his lap, setting his lips to hers, sharing the taste of the vodka on his lips. The kiss was tempting, coaxing, as he languidly slid his tongue over hers, mimicking the movement she wanted from his hips.

Her arms snaked around his neck as she sought more of his drugging kisses. The second his hand slid between her thighs, she sighed into his lips. He groaned when he found her bare.

Breaking the kiss, his glittering eyes met hers. “You came here with nothing under your dress?”

“Yes.”

A charged beat passed before he gritted out, “Did you bring me what I wanted?”

She swallowed through the arousal. He hadn’t stopped playing between her legs, and it made her mind fog. “Yes.”

“So this is an invitation?”

She nodded. Her heart was beating fast as she widened her thighs. When two thick fingers slid inside her, she arched her back.

He slipped the thick digits free only a moment later, and she protested the emptiness. He didn’t give them back. Instead, he lifted her off his lap and set her on her wobbly feet. She staggered as she stared down in confusion.

“Get it for me.” The soft command should have rankled, but when it came to sex, she couldn’t get enough of his orders. Sometimes she obeyed. Sometimes she resisted. This time, she moved to the tote Jen had dropped by the coffee table. With shaky fingers, she slipped the paper from its confines.

He leaned forward and grabbed a file off the coffee table. Handing it to her, he commanded, “Look at it.”

They exchanged papers. In frustration, she searched the document he’d forced on her. Her eyes went to the date—just one day prior—and the final note that said he was free of disease. Satisfied, she tossed the papers aside. His eyes were on her. Had he even looked at the document she’d printed from her doctor’s medical portal?

She stood between his open thighs, which made it easy for him to snake his hands up the sides of her dress. “Get on my lap, Sophia.”

She placed one knee then the other over his spread thighs. His cock tented his pants, but he lifted her dress over her head before she could reach for the fastening.

With the dress off, she sat naked on his lap, and something about him being fully dressed made it so much hotter.

He pushed her heavy breasts together before rubbing his scruff-covered jaw over the hard tips. She squirmed, her fingers digging into his hair. No sooner had she drawn a breath than his lips slid over a hard nub. He sucked it into his mouth with her already moaning for more. He sucked harder and flicked his tongue to torture her. She couldn’t stop the noises that slipped from her lips. He released one hard nipple and moved to the other, giving it equal treatment until all she could do was gasp his name.

He released his hold. “Take out my cock.” The pained rasp in his voice matched the way his chest heaved as he slipped the top buttons of his shirt free before tearing the material over his head.

With shaking fingers, she unfastened his pants, her eyes lifting only when he spoke.

“Tell me now if you want my cock covered.”

“I don’t,” she assured him as she freed her prize. He hadn’t worn anything beneath the slacks, which was very good. The pants were obstruction enough.

“Be sure, Sophia. I won’t pull out.” His heated gaze held a serious note. “I’m going to empty every last drop of come inside you if we do this.”

She groaned at his words. “Yes.” She was sure. She’d taken her pill religiously for years and wanted everything he offered her now.

He pulled her closer. “If you want it, guide it inside, Sophia.”

The moment she settled his cock at her opening, she was forced to suck in a deep breath. It felt so warm and good. The air between them grew thick with desire and lust. His jaw tightened, and she could tell he was holding back. Was he waiting for her to change her mind?

That was the last thing she wanted. She moved her hands to his shoulders, her eyes never leaving his as she sank down on his hot length. They groaned in unison. The sensation felt so wild, so much more incredible than it had been before. He filled her full, and she both wanted to move and wanted to stay that way forever.

“So fucking hot and wet.” He seemed to be having trouble with words, and she swore he’d spoken a mix of Russian and English.

She lifted her hips, and his hands moved from her back to grip her ass like she’d known he’d wanted to. He controlled her movements, lifting her up before slamming her hips down, forcing her to take all of him over and over. She circled her hips uncontrollably, her clit rubbing against him, until he bent her back to suck a nipple while grinding her clit just right. She screamed when the orgasm washed over her. Her pussy clenched around him as he growled into her swollen flesh.

When her climax finally eased, the look on his face was animalistic. He spun them so her back was flat on the couch, his body between her thighs. All she could hear was the beating of her own heart and the slick, wet sound of his possession.

He powered into her, hips flexing as he thrust hard and fast until he slammed deep and shouted her name. She felt him throbbing inside her, felt the warm jets of come filling her.

She gasped as her pussy continued contracting around him.

When their breathing started returning to normal, he rested his head against hers for a moment before slipping free and settling his muscled body on his knees between her thighs. His eyes blazed with such possessiveness that she wasn’t sure what to say. Her Russian didn’t look tame as he watched his come slowly spill from her. If anything, he looked very dangerous, as if his searing gaze were branding her. “Do you know what this does to me? Seeing your tight little pussy dripping with my come?”

Those words.

She felt more come slide from between her thighs and run down the crease as he watched. Viktor made a harsh noise that only fueled her own building need. Before she could take a breath, his thumb moved to caress her clit, and the single sweep nearly made her come undone all over again. Her back arched, and he made a sound of approval. His fingers toyed with her more before finally pushing inside. “Come again for me.” She was so close but didn’t want him to stop playing with her. She watched with rapt attention as his cock twitched to life between his open slacks. He didn’t seem to notice, as his focus was far too intent on thrusting his fingers inside her. His big hand twisted until he was hitting her just right, but he was moving too damned slowly.

Her hips arched, demanding more. What he was doing was somehow more erotic than she could have imagined.

When she finally came, it was with his eyes locked on hers, watching her come apart for him.