Chapter 25
CHAPTER
TWENTY-FIVE
JONAH
The first thing I hear when we step back inside the house is laughter drifting from the kitchen.
“Vitya!” Lev pops his head around the door, a wide grin splitting his face. “Come watch me beat Niko’s ass.”
“Come on, krasavchik.” Viktor squeezes the back of my neck, steering me into the room.
On the island sits an open bottle of vodka, two glasses, and a row of daggers lined up like playing cards. Stacks of hundred-dollar bills sit beside them. The sharp bite of alcohol hits first.
“Oh. You’ve come for the show?” Nikolai doesn’t look up. He flicks a dagger without even glancing at the target. It crosses the room and hits the far wall with a clean thud.
Lev lifts his glass in a mock salute. “Show-off.”
“You’re drunk.”
Nikolai reaches for his glass, draining it in one swallow before nudging another dagger into place with two fingers. “I’m talented.”
Lev points at the knife. “There’s a difference.”
Viktor steps beside me. His hand brushes mine. “They’re unbearable when they drink.”
Nikolai glances over. “There he is. The prodigal son.” His eyes slide to me, narrowing slightly. “And the reason he’s been impossible since he returned.”
Heat climbs into my face. Lev grins, leaning against the counter. “We were debating whether Jonah knows how to throw yet.”
Viktor’s gaze flicks to me, slow and assessing. “He doesn't.”
Nikolai tilts his head toward the knives. “Teach him. If he’s staying.”
“He is.” Viktor grabs two glasses, pouring vodka like it’s a final answer.
“So he’s staying.”
My heart hits hard against my ribs. Staying. The word feels like a heavy weight settling into my stomach. It isn't just about a room or a bed anymore. It’s about the gravity of the man holding me.
Nikolai whistles. “Then he should throw once.”
Lev hands me a practice dagger. “Aim anywhere that isn't me.”
I look at Viktor and he nods. “Go on.” My grip tightens on the cold steel. I throw, but the knife hits the wall handle-first, dropping to the floor with a hollow clang.
Nikolai claps once. “Better than Viktor’s first throw.”
“Niko,” Viktor warns, his voice turning low.
“What? You were barely ten years old and you hit Sergei’s car. You took the paint right off the door while the old man was still screaming in the foyer.”
Lev laughs. Viktor doesn’t join him. He stoops to pick up the dagger I dropped, his movements unhurried. He weighs it once and then launches it. The blade hits dead center.
Nikolai snorts. “Show-off.”
Viktor doesn't look back. He takes another dagger and throws. Bull’s-eye.
A third follows with the same result, the handles vibrating in a tight cluster.
A fourth and fifth strike the wood, the rhythmic thud filling the kitchen until the air feels crowded with the sound of his precision.
He’s not just practicing. He’s showing me exactly what it looks like when he decides where something belongs.
He stands there for a beat, his chest rising and falling while he stares at the cluster of steel. Finally, he looks at me. His eyes are fixed on mine, a hint of pride hiding behind his gaze.
“That’s enough for tonight.”
Lev goes quiet. Nikolai watches Viktor instead of the knives.
Viktor’s hand finds the back of my neck. “Upstairs.”
It isn't a command. Still, my feet move before I decide to. Behind us, Lev groans into his glass. “Every. Damn. Time. He wins a round and disappears with his favorite.”
Nikolai snorts. “We should get the boy a T-shirt. Property of Vitya. See how fast he blushes.”
My face burns. Lev lifts his glass toward me. “See? Told you.”
“Enough,” Viktor says. He doesn't even turn around.
Silence drops instantly. The air in the kitchen goes cold. Lev mutters a quiet, “Have fun.” Nikolai adds, “Don’t break the bed.”
Viktor ignores them both, his hand tightening at the back of my neck as he guides me out of the room.
We’re inside Viktor’s room. Our room. Bags are spread open across the floor. Sweats and T-shirts are draped over a chair, and shoes are left where we dropped them along the wall. “Can I try the candles?”
Viktor huffs. “Be my guest.”
Unwrapping them carefully, I focus on the labels. “This one’s sandalwood with jasmine. The other is rose petals.” I glance over my shoulder at him. “You’ve got a favorite?”
He snorts.
“Yeah. I thought so.” I smile to myself, already knowing mine as I prepare to light the sandalwood. While Viktor undresses, I kill the overhead light and set the candles around the bed. A warm flicker fills the room, shadows moving slowly over the walls. “Can you smell it?”
“Hm, I can.”
The next second, his hands are on my shoulders, throwing me back onto the bed.
I yelp, more surprised than scared. He’s already on me, tearing my shirt open.
Buttons skitter across the floor with a sharp sound.
His mouth drops to my chest, his tongue flicking over my nipples.
I arch into him, half laughing and half breathless while the candlelight shakes around us.
“Viktor…”
“Ty moy,” he grumbles against my skin. His voice is rough with hunger, his nose dragging lower along my belly.
I giggle when he tickles me, but the sound breaks when his hand slips into my sweats.
My body is a traitor. It’s arching for him, begging for the touch it was afraid of only weeks ago. “Already so hard for me.”
Wrapping his hand around my dick, he strokes once, before pulling back, leaving me shivering and wanting more.
He leans back, lifting his shirt over his head.
His pants strain with the outline of his erection.
When he pops the button, heat rushes through me.
He pushes his pants and underwear down his thighs, freeing his thick and flushed cock.
“You haven't given me your answer.” His hand slides down his length again.
“Answer?”
“I told you what I want. How I like it.” His grip tightens slightly and then eases. “You haven't told me if you agree.”
My chest tightens. This is the proposition. He’s laying out the terms of his world, and I’m the one deciding if I can live in them.
“I practiced with the knives because I want you strong. I gave you clothes. A piano.” His gaze stays fixed on my face, unblinking. “Will you give me what I need?”
His hand moves slow on his dick. It’s a hot view, but that isn't why my breath hitches. He’s asking for me to meet him. My stomach tightens while heat spreads low.
“Can I go back to work?”
“With protection. Yes.”
“Move around?”
“With protection. Yes.”
“But…by myself?”
In one sharp pull, he drags my sweats down, baring me to the candlelight. Grabbing both our dicks, he spits and squeezes them together in one slick fist. “And you, krasavchik,” his thumb presses harder as he speaks. “Will you sleep by my side every night?”
My breath stutters. “Yes.”
“And will you be my good lover?”
His strokes deepen. Spitting again, he spreads the slick over both our crowns.
I moan, overwhelmed by him and by the weight of the choice I’m making.
My body already knows the answer. Viktor watches my face as he moves, eyes dark, grip firm.
He’s drawing it out on purpose, the pressure building slowly.
Every movement is controlled. He eases just enough to keep me right there with him, his thumb firm at the base, holding me on the very edge.
“I’m close.”
His jaw tightens. “Just looking at you does this to me. And when you sound like that… do it again, krasavchik.”
I do. He leans in, kissing me hard as his tongue slips between my lips. He tugs my bottom lip and then nips down my chin, my throat, and my Adam’s apple. My back bows. Our cocks slide together, slick with spit and precum.
“Come on, Jonah. Come for me.”
Everything blurs. Heat burns out thought. My arm locks around his waist. A shattered sound tears out of me as I come in his palm. Viktor shudders, his body tensing as he comes hard between us. We breathe together, our lips brushing as we cling to each other.
I’m hollowed out. Shattered. I’ve just agreed to a life I don't understand with a man who could destroy me, and for the first time, I feel grounded.
“We have a deal.” His mouth lingers at my ear, his breath hot. “That makes you mine.”
The words land with the heavy finality of a gavel, sealing a deal I can no longer break.
I’ve traded the gray safety of my old life for a throne in a house made of blood and sandalwood, and as I sink into the mattress, I realize I’d rather be his good lover in this fortress than a free man anywhere else.