Chapter 7
CHAPTER
SEVEN
JONAH
I’m not sure what woke me up, but my body feels tight. The house is quiet except for the faint scrape of boots in the hall. Guards. A reminder that leaving isn’t an option. Something warm presses against my ass. The weight shifts and my breath catches. It’s Viktor’s cock.
Sometime in the night he must have shifted behind me. I'm still in his bed. That’s not good. Now his body is pressed along mine, his arm hooked across my ribs. I’m freaking out. I’ve never felt another man like this. But what’s worse is that my own cock aches inside my pants. Again.
It doesn’t make sense. I’ve never been this sensitive.
I remember the girls I dated in college, how I used to count the patterns on the wallpaper just to get through the night.
Touch has always been a chore. An obligation.
I thought I was broken, but right now I'm rock hard. My skin buzzes. It’s terrifying.
I try to will my blood to slow, but it doesn’t listen. I despise that I’m hard for someone this dangerous. Why didn’t I get out of his bed when I had the chance?
Because you were sleeping, dumbass. Better than you have in years.
I shift. My fingertips brush his side, catching the edge of the bear tattoo. The dark shape moves when he breathes. Cold slides down my spine. Family means something different here. So does ownership. And I’m lying in his bed, hard and shaking, touching the mark that says he belongs to this world.
Bratva.
Suddenly, Viktor’s hand grips my wrist. I flinch.
I should’ve moved when I had the chance.
Now I’m pinned here with a hard-on against a man who can end me.
He doesn’t open his eyes. He just holds me there, keeping my hand against the hard plane of his chest. I feel his heart under my palm. It’s a steady thud.
“I can hear your thoughts from here,” Viktor rumbles. He shifts behind me, moving closer until there is no air left between us. “They’re so loud, malysh.”
“I’m going to shower,” I stammer.
Viktor’s eyes snap open. He doesn’t release my wrist. Instead, he shifts. The mattress dips as he pulls me up until I’m hovering over him. His other palm closes over the hard length of me, crushing the fabric of my scrubs against my skin.
“What are you doing?” I bark out the words, my voice cracking. My knees give.
“You’re hard,” he murmurs. His thumb traces me through the material. “Are you going to leak through these cheap clothes, Jonah? You want a monster in your bed. You want to see if the stories about the Morozov prince are true.”
I try to yank my hand back. “I’m your nurse, Viktor. This isn't—stop.”
Viktor’s mouth curls into a small, arrogant smile.
I watch the way he weighs me, deciding exactly how much of my dignity he’s going to strip away before the sun comes up.
He doesn't move his hand. He just waits. Silence weights the room. I can see the outline of his shoulders, the strength in his neck. I should say no. I should scream for a guard. I know I’m crossing a line that has no way back.
I’m trading my scrubs for the weight of a killer, and for the first time in my life, I don’t care about the cost.
“You’re here for whatever I tell you. You've spent this time pretending those hands are just clinical. Now you’re going to use them to touch me properly.”
I hate that I’m leaking for a man who is nothing but a source of danger.
“You like it when I do this?” His fingers hook under my jaw, turning my face. “This?”
“I’m not into men,” I grit out, a weak shield against the heat of him.
Viktor lets out an amused hum. “Then consider this a lesson. You’re in my bed, under my name. That makes you mine to use. Do you want me to wreck you?”
“I... I can't—”
Viktor’s finger presses against my lips, cutting off my lie.
He stares at me, searching my eyes for the truth my mouth won't admit. I want to scramble away. I want to run until my lungs burn. But the curiosity is a physical weight. I’ve never felt a pull like this, a desperate need to see what happens next.
My life feels like a lie, and he is the only thing that feels real.
I go very still. My head is a mess. I try to find a reason to say no but my body isn't waiting for one. I give him a jagged nod. He knows exactly how much I'm willing to give him. “Y—yes.”
“Good boy. I’ve seen a lot in this city, Jonah, but never something as beautiful as you coming apart for me. You were carved out just to hold my weight.”
The corner of his mouth lifts. His grip on my chin tightens as he pulls me close, baring my mouth. My teeth clink against his. The taste of him floods my senses. I moan into his mouth. It’s a broken sound. He licks me hard, leaving no space to breathe.
“I’m going to fuck you. And then you’re going to patch me up like the good little nurse you are.”
“O... okay.” I shiver.
Viktor reaches for the tray on the floor.
I watch him recap a bottle of oil, his movements steady and slow.
He isn't in a rush. He is savoring the way I’m falling apart.
He wraps his hand around his cock and slicks it, the sound of the oil against his skin making my stomach flip.
It’s huge. It looks impossible. I have seen bodies in the ER, but nothing prepared me for the sight of him ready to take me.
Viktor looks pleased as he takes the lube from my trembling hand and coats his fingers. “Has another man ever fucked your pretty hole?”
I shake my head. My mouth goes dry. My cock twitches in a steady rhythm.
Viktor taps my chin again. “Look at me, krasavchik.”
I turn my gaze up. The lust in his expression makes my skin prickle. He licks my throat while his fingertips graze my nipple. I cry out. My back arches.
“Oh, you like that.” He chuckles in my ear. His hand moves to my throat. When his fingers close around my windpipe, the noise in my head finally goes silent under the pressure of his palm.
His hand drifts down again. He teases me like he’s testing how fast I’ll react. When he pushes his hand inside my scrubs, every inch feels exposed.
“I'm not letting these stitches tear because of you.” His voice is a low rasp that overrides the physical reality of the room. “So you’re going to do the work. Good boy. Roll over.”
I don’t argue. I shift, straddling his hips. My knees sink into the silk. This is a surrender. I realize I’m glad to have no control over this. I can just let it happen.
He jerks my scrub pants down. The cool air hits my skin. My dick lies hard against my stomach, slick with need. Lifting my wrists, he pins them away from my cock, holding me open so he can look.
“Look at you. Trembling for me. So fucking hot.”
He doesn’t rush the preparation, pushing one finger against my opening.
The lube makes me jump. “Oh god,” I whimper, my hips jerking away.
He doesn't move. He lets me feel the stretch, the intrusion of his skin.
I try to clench, to pull away, but his hand on my wrists is a wall.
He waits until my muscles stop fighting and begin to yield.
He pushes a second finger in and the world narrows to the heavy stretch of him. It’s a sting that blooms into a heat I wasn't prepared for. I’m so full I can’t breathe, every muscle in my body clenching around the intrusion of his skin.
“Stop fighting it. You were made to take me.”
He moves slow, making lazy circles. “I... it’s too much,” I bark into the mattress, my head thumping back against his shoulder.
“It’s exactly enough,” Viktor grunts, his breath hot against my ear. “Stop overthinking and just feel how much of me you can take.”
He adds a third finger. I gasp, my fingers clawing into the silk sheets. I can feel the shape of him inside me.
“Relax.” He presses his forehead to the back of my head. “Take it.”
I try. I fail. I try again. He lets me struggle for a moment, letting the frustration build until I’m the one pushing back against him, searching for the relief of his touch.
When his fingers scissor me open, pleasure bursts inside me.
My hips jerk back without thought. It’s a deep throb I’ve never felt before.
“Viktor,” I gasp.
He groans against my skin. “Say it again.” I shake my head, a low whine trapped in my throat.
He curls his fingers. Pleasure hits so hard I shout into the mattress.
The sounds coming out of me are foreign.
I don't recognize my own voice. There’s no room for shame, only the desperate need for him to hit that spot again.
My cock aches against my stomach. I can’t reach it. I can’t think. He pulls his fingers out and my body clenches at the loss. Then the head of his cock presses against me with pressure.
“Oh God,” I whisper. “Fuck... it won't fit.”
“It will fit perfectly. Take all of me, malysh.”
I take a breath. My hands grip his shoulders until my nails sink into his skin.
I begin to lower myself. The first inch is a stretch that makes my vision go dark.
I shout, clawing at the sheets as my body screams at the displacement.
I can see the sweat on his brow and the way his jaw locks, yet he doesn't slow down. I don't understand how he’s still moving with a hole in his side, but he’s pushing through the agony as if my surrender is the only thing keeping him alive.
Viktor doesn't push. He stays perfectly still, letting me adjust to the burn. I’m shaking so hard I can barely stay upright.
“Don't move,” I sob. “Just give me a second.”
Viktor stays still. He lets me feel the scale of him. It’s a burning ache that shifts into a heavy throb. Inch by inch, he enters me. My insides feel stretched and compressed by his weight. I’m shaking so hard I can’t find my footing.
“Don’t stop.” His hands clamp on my waist. “That’s it. You’re doing so fucking well. Most men would have broken, but you’re just getting hungrier.”
I begin to lift, then sink. The drag of him is intense. Every time I sink back down, he hits a spot deep inside that makes my knees buckle. I’ve spent my life watching from the sidelines of my own body, but this is a total takeover. I can’t look away. I can’t pretend this isn't happening.
“I’m going to stretch you until you can’t remember your own name,” he rasps. When his cock drags over that spot again, my knees go weak.
“Oh, fuck.” I bite the blanket as the next thrust lands.
“Let go.” His hand slides between my shoulder blades, pressing me down. “I want to hear you.”
He changes the angle, hitting that same place again and again until my thoughts scatter. My body arches into him.
“That’s right,” he growls. “Push back. Show me how much you need this.”
Pressure builds fast, coiling sharp until I can’t hold anything in.
“Come for me.” His hand clamps on my hip. “Do it.”
The release hits me like a physical blow, violent and unprompted. I’m not even touching myself, but my body is reacting to the friction. My vision whites out. I can’t breathe. It’s a surrender I didn't give permission for.
Hot cum spills across my stomach. Pleasure rips through me so hard I almost collapse. He keeps fucking me. His rhythm breaks. He groans, raw, then slams forward. His cock jerks inside me. I thrash as another shock hits. I feel the pulse of him deep inside me. I feel his heat.
“Good boy. You took every inch of me. You’re perfect, Jonah. Exactly where I want you.”
My legs shake. My arms give out. I fall into the mattress and he comes down over me.
He’s anchored me to the bed with more than just his weight.
I’m a prisoner of my own hunger, and I don't want to be set free. He is breathing hard. He pulls out and the emptiness hits ugly. I whine before I can swallow it. I look at the mess on the sheets. I didn’t just let him do it. I begged for it.
He knows. He turns me onto my side and pulls me close. He parts my ass cheeks and slides his semi-hard cock back inside me. Lube and his cum make it easy. My body is still open for him. Relief knocks a sound out of my chest. The empty feeling vanishes. I feel centered. I feel grounded.
“Sleep like this,” he murmurs, mouth brushing my neck. “On me. Around me. Let anyone watching think twice.”
My body settles. I’m held, filled, and pinned in place. I shouldn’t crave the weight of him inside me, keeping me exactly where he wants me. But I do.
The lock on the door doesn't matter anymore. He’s the only thing in this house that isn't trying to kill me, and I’m choosing to hide in the very fire that’s burning me.
I should be planning an escape. But as I lie there, held in place by him, the only thing I feel is the silence. My old life is gone. There is only the heat of him, and the terrifying reality that I’m not trying to pull away.