Epilogue
Victoria
My hands are still shaking when Leonid cuts the engine.
Adrenaline, hot and restless, burning through me like my body doesn’t know the job is over yet.
The night presses close around us, cool air brushing my flushed skin, the smell of damp earth and oil and victory tangled together.
My heart is still racing, my mind replaying every second; the locks I cracked, the cameras I looped, the way we moved through the building like it had been waiting just for us.
Like it belonged to us.
I pull off my gloves and flex my fingers, grounding myself in the familiar ache. There’s a sting on my wrist I didn’t notice when it happened. But I feel alive in a way I never did before Leonid. Alive without fear. Alive without needing to disappear afterward.
He watches me the way he always does after a job; quiet, focused, like he’s checking that I came back whole.
“You were reckless,” he says, voice calm, but his eyes are dark and glittering all at once.
I grin at him, unable to help it. “You loved it.”
He doesn’t deny it.
The house greets us with silence when we step inside, lights low, the world narrowing the moment the door shuts behind us. Boots abandoned. Jackets shrugged off. Weapons set aside without discussion. We move together easily now, no tension in it, just trust and momentum carrying us forward.
Then his hand closes gently around my wrist.
The touch is careful, grounding, and I’m suddenly aware of how close he is, how my pulse jumps traitorously under his thumb. He brushes the shallow scratch there, his brow tightening just a fraction.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmurs.
“It’s nothing,” I say, but I don’t pull away.
The adrenaline hasn’t burned off yet. It’s pooling low and hot, feeding into something else entirely. The silence between us thickens, charged with everything we’re not saying, with the way the job stripped us down to instinct and left us vibrating with it.
“You were brilliant tonight,” he says quietly.
His praise still does that to me, still sinks under my skin and lodges there like it means something dangerous. I swallow, my breath hitching despite myself.
“So were you,” I answer, and the way his jaw tightens tells me he feels it too.
His hand slides from my wrist to my waist, giving me time to stop this if I want to. I don’t. Instead, I step closer, close enough that I can feel his heat, the solid certainty of him anchoring me as the last of the adrenaline hums through my veins.
“You’re shaking,” I say softly.
“So are you.”
I fist my hands in his shirt.
The realization blooms warm and terrifying in my chest all over again; I chose this life. I chose him.
He lowers his forehead to mine, and the world shrinks to just us. “If we don’t stop,” he warns quietly, “I won’t be able to.”
My smile is slow and reckless. “Then don’t.”
That’s all it takes.
He lifts me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist without thought, a breathless laugh tearing out of me as he carries me upstairs.
The house disappears. The job fades. Everything narrows to the way he holds me, to the knowledge that this isn’t surviving, or running.
I’m finally living and it took being caught by him for me to realize that.
He kicks the bedroom door shut behind us and we both tear off clothes until we’re naked and panting.
“Fuck you’re so sexy like this,” he grunts, his eyes darkening as they take me in. “I can smell how aroused you are. I love that doing a job gets you so worked up.”
“Right back at you, Leo,” I say with come-get-me eyes.
He practically leaps on me, his mouth going straight to my neck to find my pulse point where he sucks hard enough to make me moan.
“Can I watch you?” he asks against my skin and goosebumps erupt all over me.
Since our first night together, we’ve discovered more and more of what we enjoy.
He loves to watch me, whether that’s via a camera as I move around the house or in person when lie back and play with my pussy.
I love to watch him come apart uncontrollably at the sight of me.
He stills as I slink backwards from him until the backs of my legs hit the bed, then I sit slowly and lift my feet up to rest on the edge either side of my hips. He loves it when I’m wide open like this, when he can see what watching him watching me, does to me.
He groans as precum leaks from the tip and drips down to the floor in a long, glittery strand.
I cup my mound, hiding my naked pussy from his line of sight and I swear to God, he almost whimpers.
“Get on your knees,” I say, and he knows I won’t move my hand away until he complies.
He does as I ask and moves a little nearer in the process. I stroke my hand upward, using two fingers to part my labia.
My arousal is already coating my inner thighs, slick and warm, the scent of it filling the room as I hold myself open for him.
Leonid's eyes are locked on me, dark and hungry, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.
He's on his knees like a supplicant, his massive cock straining upward, the tip flushed and weeping more precum that drips steadily onto the floor between his spread knees.
God, he looks wrecked already, and I haven't even touched myself properly yet.
"Touch your cock," I command, my voice low and breathy, the power of it sending a thrill straight to my core. "Slow. Show me how much you want this pussy."
He obeys instantly, wrapping one large hand around his shaft, stroking from base to tip with agonizing slowness.
A guttural groan escapes him, his hips twitching forward involuntarily, but he holds back, muscles corded with restraint.
"Victoria... fuck, you're killing me," he rasps, his free hand clenching into a fist at his side as if to keep himself from reaching for me.
I smile wickedly, dipping one finger into my wetness, circling my entrance teasingly before sliding it up to my clit.
The first touch sends a jolt through me, my back arching slightly off the bed as I gasp.
"You love this, don't you? Watching me get myself off while you stroke that thick cock, wishing it was buried inside me. "
His strokes falter for a second, his eyes glazing with raw need. "Yes... God, yes. You're so wet, printsessa. So fucking perfect."
The worship in his voice, coming from a man who could command empires, makes my pussy clench around nothing.
His pupils blow when he sees it clenching.
I add a second finger, plunging them deep inside myself, my hips rock up to meet my hand, the wet sounds of my fingers fucking into me echoing obscenely in the quiet room.
Leonid's pace quickens to match mine, his hand twisting at the head of his cock on each upstroke, smearing the precum down his length until it glistens.
"Look at how my pussy quivers for you," I moan when I withdraw my fingers and spread my inner lips apart with them, showing him my aching cunt.
I lift my free hand to pinch one of my nipples hard, the sharp pleasure-pain making me whimper.
"And you’re on your knees for me, leaking all over the floor.
You want to taste me, don't you? Want to bury your face in my cunt and lick up every drop of my wetness. "
He manages a yes through his clenched jaw, sweat beading on his forehead, his breath coming in desperate pants. "Fuck, Victoria... I need it. Need you. Let me—"
"No," I cut him off, my voice turning into a gasp as I rub my clit faster, the pressure building hot and tight in my belly. My thighs tremble, still spread wide for him, and I can feel the orgasm coiling, ready to snap. "Come closer. But don't touch."
He shuffles forward on his knees, his strokes desperate now, fist pumping erratically, his cock throbbing visibly in his grip. "You're dripping," he growls, his voice strained. "So swollen and pink... I could fuck you so deep right now."
“Give me just the tip,” I pant, “Let my pussy have something to grip so I can come harder,”
His breath is ripped from him as he lines up with my entrance and pushes just the head of his cock into me.
The sensation pushes me over the edge. I cry out, my fingers circling hard as my pussy squeezes around him, waves of pleasure crashing through me. My back bows off the bed, toes curling, and I ride it out shamelessly, letting him see every quiver, every gush of wetness that coats him.
Leonid swears in Russian, his body tensing as he watches me shatter. "That's it... come for me, printsessa. Fuck, I'm—"
He comes with a roar, his cock jerking in his hand as thick ropes of cum fill me, leaking hot and sticky between us. He milks himself through it, groaning my name like a prayer, his eyes never leaving the sight of me spread out for him.
For a moment, we just breathe, the air thick with the scent of sex and satisfaction.
Then, with a feral glint in his eye, he leans forward, finally breaking the no-touch rule as he drags his tongue along my thigh, lapping up his own release mixed with mine.
"Now," he murmurs against my skin, his voice dark and promising, "it's my turn to make you scream again. "
He doesn't wait for permission this time, his mouth descends on me, hot and insistent, and I tangle my fingers in his hair, surrendering to the next round as the night stretches out endlessly before us.