Marie
The car barely starts moving before I lunge.
I don’t think.
I don’t plan.
I just attack.
Fists flying, nails clawing, body thrashing as I fight him with everything I have.
“You fucking bastard!”
Viktor grunts, catching my wrists, trapping them with one hand.
His grip is iron. Unshakable. Completely immovable.
I kick, but he shifts, parting his thighs so I land between them, where he’s caging me tighter.
Fuck!
I’m breathing hard, panting, my heart slamming against my ribs.
I yank, twist, try to break free, but it’s no use.
He’s too strong. Too big.
“You done, printsessa?” he rumbles, voice deep and dark.
I snarl, yanking again.
“You—are—a psycho!”
His grip tightens just enough to remind me who’s stronger.
“And you’re still mine.”
My entire body shakes with fury.
“I hate you!”
“No, you don’t.”
I try to kick him again, but this time, he moves first.
In one brutal motion, he flips me on my back against the leather seat, caging me under him.
His legs trap mine, his body presses me down, pinning me effortlessly.
My breath catches.
Because I can feel him.
Everywhere.
His heat. His size. The thick, unforgiving length of his cock pressing against my belly. The scent of him. His devilishly handsome face. I whimper, disgusted by the spark of heat curling deep inside me. He smirks. Because he knows.
“You’re shaking, printsessa.”
His deep voice drags over my skin like fucking velvet. His free hand trails down my arm, my waist, my thigh—slow and deliberate.
My muscles tense, my breath catches. But I don’t stop him. I can’t.
“You feel that?” he murmurs, pressing his hard cock against my stomach.
“Feel what you do to me?”
I bite my lip, fighting back a whimper.
Viktor chuckles, fucking pleased with himself.
“Feel how fucking hard I am for you? How fucking desperate?”
My cheeks flame, my pulse hammering. Because I do. I shouldn’t, but I do.
His hand slides lower, slipping under my dress.
I push back, but he shushes me, palm pressing against my inner thigh, forcing me open.
“Don’t fight me, baby. You know how this ends.”
My lungs squeeze.
“Fuck you!”
He grins. And even knowing he’s a deranged stalker, a man who ran after me, and won’t let me leave of my free will, I can’t help but be affected by how beautiful he is. His golden complexion, thick dark hair with its silver strands, that straight, masculine nose, his full lips, high cheekbones, and navy eyes.
“Oh, you will,” Viktor rumbles sensually.
His fingers skim my panties, slow and teasing.
I gasp, my hips jerking, thighs snapping shut, but he holds me open.
His eyes darken, locked on mine, watching my every reaction.
His voice drops, rough and hungry.
“You’re wet, printsessa.”
I freeze, fucking mortified.
He groans, dragging his fingers over my soaked panties.
“So fucking wet for me.” His tone is almost reverent.
Tears burn my eyes. I don’t want this. But deep down I know I do. I fucking do. And I hate myself for it.
“Say it.”
His voice is low, demanding, primal.
I shake my head violently, my lips pressed tight.
He growls, rubbing circles over my clit, pressing against my throbbing bud.
Pleasure slams through me, hot and unbearable.
“Say it, baby.”
I shake harder, refusing to give in. But my body doesn’t lie. My hips buck against his hand, chasing the friction. My breath shatters, a needy moan breaking free.
Viktor’s grin turns lethal.
“That’s my good girl.”
His fingers dip lower, pushing inside me, stretching me, curling.
I cry out, my legs kicking, but he just holds me down, working me. Deep. Slow. Relentless.
“That’s it, baby. Take my fingers. Get ready for my cock.”
My clit pulses. My thighs tremble.
The knot inside me pulls tighter, tighter, too tight.
I can’t—
I can’t—
His thumb presses down, his fingers stroke deep—
And I break.
I sob as my orgasm slams into me, my body shaking, convulsing, pleasure flooding every nerve.
Viktor growls, watching me come undone.
“Fuck, look at you. So fucking pretty when you break for me.”
Tears slip down my cheeks. and he kisses them away. Slow, soft, heartbreaking.
He won. My body betrayed me. No matter how much I hate him— No matter how much I want to escape— I belong to him. And we both know it.