Chapter 19 #2
“I know,” I murmur while I stroke faster. The plate clatters to the floor. “Look away, Nikolai. Stand up for me, krasavchik.”
Jonah rises shaky, steps out of the bunched fabric at his ankles. Sliding my palm under his sweatshirt, I push it up and watch every muscle jump under the cold air. “Arms up.”
He lifts them. I pull the sweatshirt off in one motion and toss it to the desk.
Jonah stands there half-naked in front of another man, flushed and shaking.
He is pale and vulnerable against the dark wood of my desk, his body shivering as I strip him bare.
Another man who would've never looked his way when I tell him not to.
Jonah doesn't look at him either because he only looks at me.
“Turn around.”
He obeys. His palms brace on the desk and his breath fogs the polished surface. Pulling his pants and briefs down just far enough, I feel the air hit him. He jerks and his thighs tremble. Nikolai clears his throat. “Pakhan—”
Ignoring him, I spit on Jonah’s rim and slick my fingers. Then I press and enter his hole. Jonah pushes back helplessly, already opening for me. “Good boy, krasavchik moy.”
He makes a sound that isn't a word and his knees bend. Guiding my cock to him, I ease in, feeling him stretch around me. Jonah whimpers while his fingers dig into the desk. “Vikt, ah, ah,”
“Ssh.”
“I need—I need…”
“I know, and I’m going to give it to you.”
Jonah’s breath shatters while his lower body shakes under the effort.
I push deeper and feel the heat and tightness clamp around me.
Then I pull Jonah back onto me, gripping him firmly by his hips.
The desk creaks and the sound spurs me, driving me crazy with the need to own him completely.
His forehead drops onto his arm and his breath breaks against the wood. “Slower—”
“Yes, you can,” I grunt while I thrust deeper.
His cry breaks against the desk, muffled by the wood.
I grip his body tighter and pound into him, each thrust rough enough to shake through both of us.
His breath catches every time I hit that spot that makes his thighs tremble.
Papers slide across the desk. Jonah’s fingers claw for purchase but find nothing but polished lacquer.
“Vik—Vik, please…”
Jonah’s body tightens around me, fluttering and pulling at me. His cock drags against the desk, leaving a wet streak every time my thrusts rock him forward. “Fuck,” he gasps. His spine arches in a sharp, helpless bow.
I slam into him again, deeper and harder. His whole body jolts. “You can,” I growl. “You take me so well, krasavchik. Look at you.”
He whimpers. One more thrust and he almost sobs. “Come.”
His breath fractures, a broken sound torn from his chest as his body locks.
I hold him there, pressed close, feeling every shudder as he comes undone.
He breaks instantly, shouting as his cock shoots across the desk.
His whole body seizes and squeezes so tight my rhythm hitches for a fraction of a second.
I keep fucking him, pounding into the heat of him.
He chokes on a half sob. “Viktor, wait, I can’t—”
“You can take it.”
He shudders as I push deeper, dragging him back onto my cock with a low growl. “Don’t hide from it. Let him hear you.”
Jonah lets out a broken moan. Reaching around, I take his cock in my palm. It jumps, oversensitive in the air. “N, no, Vik, Please,”
Stroking him slow and firm, I watch him shake. His knees buckle and his whole frame quakes. “Viktor, oh god, I’m—I’m gonna…”
“You give it to me. Right now.”
His body locks all at once. Then he screams into the desk as he comes a second time, a violent, convulsive release. His thighs shake so hard I have to hold him up. His orgasm paints the desk again. I fuck him through every pulse of it, deeper and slower, giving him nowhere to run.
“Jonah,” I murmur, my voice dropping an octave as I feel my own control finally fraying. “Take it for me.”
A weak sound slips out of him, his head lolling against his arm. “Vik, please…”
I give him a slow roll of my pelvis, a brutal, grounding friction that forces a sharp cry from his throat.
Gripping his hips, I start fucking him with deep, heavy thrusts that make his whole body jolt against the mahogany.
The friction is heavy, the heat between us absolute.
I don't care that Nikolai is standing five feet away, or that the house is full of men; in this square of light, Jonah is the only thing that exists.
“You take me. Always.”
I slam into him once more, buried to the hilt. Heat tears through me, wave after wave, spilling deep inside him as his body milks everything from me. I growl into his skin, the sound vibrating through both of us as I spend myself in the heat of him.
Easing out of him once the last pulse fades, I catch him as he nearly collapses. “Vot tak, that’s it. I’ve got you.”
Jonah trembles, boneless, his face tucked into my neck. He's a mess of salt and slick and Morozov power. He's dazed, his eyes flickering toward the doorway where Nikolai is finally turning away, a sharp reminder that we weren't alone.
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for minutes.
“The relay is live. Cracked Babushka’s birthdate.
Arrogant bastard used her as the salt.” He taps the screen, his eyes tracking the mess on the desk with a jagged grin.
“I’m gonna go find some air before I get any more details I can't scrub from my brain.
Tell the nurse I'll send him the GPS for his trailer.”
I don't shift Jonah from my lap. I just reach for a clean napkin and wipe the juice from his chin, my fingers lingering on his jaw. “The bar?” I ask, my voice returning to the cold rasp of the Pakhan.
“A place outside the city. Quiet. I’ll tell the boys to get the black SUV ready.”
I ignore him. Jonah is all I see. “You’re alright,” I murmur, dragging my palm down his spine. “Dyshi, solnyshko.”
He nods weakly, his breath shaky. Behind us, the door clicks shut, leaving the office in a heavy, loaded silence.
Revenge is a cold game, but for the first time, I’ve got something warm to come home to when the blood is dry.