Chapter 13 #3
“Trying to what?” I cut him off, pushing off the wall to meet him halfway, jabbing a finger into his chest. “To ruin us before we even had a chance? Because congratulations, it almost worked! I’ve been a fucking mess, and you’ve been hiding behind your fear like it’s some noble sacrifice.
Newsflash, big guy—it just hurts both of us! ”
We go back and forth like that, voices rising and falling in the small apartment, years of tension and silence finally exploding between us. Every word feels like it’s tearing something open. Until Viktor snaps.
In one brutal movement, both of his hands are on me—one gripping the back of my neck, the other cupping my jaw hard.
He yanks me forward and kisses me like he’s starving for it, like he’s been dying for months.
The kiss is rough, possessive, and so intense my entire body lights up like a live wire.
I whimper into his mouth, the sound broken and needy, my eyes rolling back in pure overwhelming pleasure as the silver barbell on my tongue clicks against his teeth.
Heat floods through me so fast I feel dizzy, my hands fisting desperately in his shirt as I melt against him.
The kiss breaks for a single gasping second, just long enough for me to suck in a shaky breath, my lips already swollen and tingling.
Viktor’s forehead presses against mine, his breathing ragged, and then he growls something filthy in Russian, low and guttural, right against my mouth.
I don’t catch every word, but I understand enough—something about my tongue, the piercing, how it looks, how it’s going to feel.
The raw hunger in his voice sends heat exploding down my spine.
Before I can even process it, he’s on me again.
Viktor kisses me harder this time, completely losing the careful, restrained control he’s clung to for four fucking years.
Both of his hands grip me possessively—one still wrapped around the back of my neck, the other sliding down to my jaw and throat as he tilts my head exactly how he wants it.
His mouth is demanding, devouring, tongue sliding against mine and deliberately flicking over the silver barbell like he’s testing it, claiming it, like the piercing is driving him insane.
The groan that rumbles out of his chest vibrates through me, deep and broken, and I whimper again, louder this time as I press closer.
I wait for it. Even as pleasure lights up every nerve in my body, even as he kisses me like he’s trying to crawl inside my skin, I wait for the words I’ve heard before. I can’t. We shouldn’t. That familiar wall slamming back into place.
Instead, Viktor backs me up against the nearest wall with a heavy thud, his massive body pinning me there as the kiss turns even more desperate, more violent, more everything.
His hand tightens around my throat just enough to make my head spin in the best way, and all I can do is melt, clinging to him like he might disappear again.
My tongue piercing clicks against his teeth and he growls again, the sound pure need, like the sight and feel of it has shattered whatever was left of his restraint.
Viktor breaks the kiss with a harsh breath, only to drag his mouth down the side of my neck, teeth scraping over my skin before he bites down hard enough to make me gasp.
He sucks marks into my throat, possessive and relentless, like he’s trying to leave proof that I’m his after years of pretending I wasn’t.
My head falls back against the wall with a dull thud, a broken moan slipping out of me as heat floods every inch of my body.
“Let’s go home,” he growls against my neck, his lips brushing over the fresh hickey he just left.
The words send another shiver through me, but I’m still so fucking angry, still so raw.
I moan again as he sucks another mark lower, my hands gripping his shoulders tight.
“You… think… one kiss is going to bring me home,” I manage between gasps, tilting my head further to give him more space even while my mouth keeps running, “so you can… fuck… so you can ignore me again?”
Viktor growls, deep and dangerous in his chest, and suddenly his hands are under my thighs.
He lifts me like I weigh nothing, pinning me against his body as he starts walking.
My legs wrap around his waist instinctively, and I cling to him as he carries me through the apartment toward the guest room where I’ve been crashing for the past week and a half.
He kicks the door shut behind us with a solid thud, the sound final and loud in the quiet space, then drops me onto the bed.
I bounce once on the mattress, panting hard as I look up at him.
Viktor towers over me, his eyes completely feral with years of pent-up want and frustration.
His dark gaze rakes over my body—bare chest, low-slung sweats, the fresh marks blooming on my neck—and something in me tightens with pure need.
I’m so turned on it hurts, my cock straining against the thin fabric, every nerve screaming for him after so long of nothing but silence and aching.
“Fine,” Viktor says. “Let’s break the pattern, pretty birdie.”