Chapter 7
Lev
I stepped out of the shower, the steam clinging to my skin. I ran a towel over my hair, my movements slow and unhurried. The suite was quiet, the city muted beyond the soundproofed glass. The air was still thick with the scent of her arousal and my conquest.
I found her where I’d left her, a tangle of limbs on the bed, her face buried in the duvet. She hadn’t moved. Her backside was a canvas of red stripes, her ass a masterpiece of my own making. I felt a surge of satisfaction, a primal, possessive pride.
I had broken her.
I had claimed her.
And now she was mine.
I pulled on my trousers, the fine wool a familiar comfort against my skin. I walked to the bar, my feet silent on the marble floor. I poured two fingers of vodka, the crystal cool in my hand. I didn’t offer her any. This wasn’t a social call.
I walked back to the bed and stood over her, a silent, contemplative presence. I could see the tension in her shoulders, the way her breath hitched, the subtle signs of a woman who was waiting for me to make my next move.
For a moment, I just watched her. I had fantasized about this for years.
The brilliant scholarship girl with the smart mouth, sharp sense of humor, and defiant eyes.
The girl who had called me a tyrant and then kissed me like she meant it.
The girl who had haunted my dreams and fueled my darkest desires.
And now she was here. Spread out on her bed, her body thoroughly mastered by both my belt and my cock.
“Get up.” My charmless words were a rough command that left no room for disobedience.
She stirred reluctantly. She pushed herself up, her arms trembling. She turned to face me, her hair a tangled mess around her face. Her eyes were wary, guarded, but there was something else there, too. A spark. A flicker of the old Kara. The one who wouldn’t go down without a fight.
Honestly, it was really fucking sexy.
She pulled the sheet around her, a pathetic attempt at modesty that was both endearing and ridiculous, especially after my cock had just been inside her pussy and her tight little asshole.
“Lev,” she whispered, her voice still hoarse from screaming.
“Kara,” I replied in a mocking drawl. “We have so much to catch up on.”
I set my glass down on the nightstand and stepped closer. I sat down, the mattress dipping with my weight. I reached out, my fingers tracing the line of her jaw. She flinched, a subtle, almost imperceptible movement, but I saw it anyway.
“You’re a hard woman to forget,” I told her.
“I could say the same about you,” she shot back, her voice regaining a little of its fire. “Though I’d prefer it if you did.”
“Oh, but that will never happen, Kara. I’ve thought about you. More than I care to admit. I’ve thought about this. About what I would do to you if I ever got the chance.”
She swallowed, her throat working. “And is this it?”
“This is just the beginning,” I growled.
I reached for her, my hand closing around her wrist. I pulled her toward me, my grip firm, insistent. She came to me reluctantly. I laid her back on the bed, my body hovering over hers.
I didn’t fuck her again. Not with my cock. No, this was something else. This was a quiet, deliberate unraveling. I slid my hand between her legs, my fingers finding her clit, still swollen and likely very sensitive. I circled it with a maddening, methodical slowness, my touch knowing and confident.
She squirmed, a restless, agitated movement. “Lev, don’t,” she whispered, but the words lacked conviction. Her body was already responding, a fresh wave of arousal already slicking my fingers.
“Don’t what?” I murmured, my mouth finding her ear. “Don’t make you feel good? Don’t remind you what it’s like to lose control to a man like me?”
She didn’t answer. She just let out a soft, ragged moan, a sound that was a surrender in itself.
I continued teasing her, my fingers tracing the sensitive folds of her sex, my thumb circling her clit slowly but surely. She was wet, so wet, a slick, warm heat that was a testament to my power and her submission. I slid one finger inside her.
I added another finger, then another, stretching her, filling her.
I hooked my fingers, finding that spongy, sensitive spot inside that made her gasp.
I knew her body instinctively. I knew its secrets, its desires, its vulnerabilities.
I knew exactly how to play her, how to make her sing, how to make her scream.
And I did.
I worked her with a quiet intensity, my fingers a blur of motion, my thumb a constant, demanding pressure on her clit. She was a live wire, a quivering, gasping mess of a girl. Her hands fisted in the sheets, her nails digging into the fabric. Her breath became a series of short, ragged pants.
“Please,” she sobbed, the word a desperate plea. I didn’t know what she was begging for. For me to stop? For me to never stop?
“Please what, Kara?” I asked gently.
“I don’t know,” she cried out desperately.
I chuckled. “Yes, you do.”
I increased the pressure, my pace quickening. I was pushing her, pushing her past her limits, into a place where there was no thought, no resistance, only feeling.
She was close. I could feel it in the tension of her body, in the frantic, shallow breaths she was taking. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her face a mask of pure bliss.
“Look at me,” I demanded.
Her eyes fluttered open, a hazy, unfocused blue. They were beautiful, but they were vacant, very clearly lost in a sea of need and desire.
“I want you to come for me,” I demanded. “I want you to keep your eyes on me when you do. I want you to see who’s doing this to you.”
My phone buzzed on the nightstand, a persistent, irritating hum. I ignored it. They could wait. This was more important.
She came for me.
Hard.
Her back arched, and her body shook. I felt her muscles clamp down on my fingers like a vise, her body fluttering around me as she came.
When it was over, she went limp like a ragdoll on the bed. Her body was still quivering for me. A sheen of sweat covered her skin, making her glow in the soft lighting. I could see that my cum was still drying on her thighs.
She was a mess.
My mess.
I pulled my fingers from her slowly and wiped them across her belly. She cringed and I watched her closely. I had taken everything from her. Her control. Her defiance. Her pride. Her body. Now I was going to take her secrets.
“Talk,” I said, my voice seething with sudden anger.
She shook her head and bit her lip. “I… I can’t.”
“You can,” I growled, unable to hide the threat I posed to her from the tone of my voice. “And you will.”
I leaned over her and braced my hands on either side of her head, caging her in. I was close enough that she could feel my breath on her face, close enough that she could see the cold, hard promise in my eyes.
“I’m going to ask you questions,” I said softly. “And you’re going to answer them. Truthfully. If you lie, I’ll know. And you won’t like the consequences.”
My phone buzzed again, insistent and demanding. I glanced at the screen. I could see that it was Dmitri.
Where are you? Report.
I snatched it up and typed back with one thumb, my other hand still planted beside her head.
Busy.
I tossed the phone onto the nightstand, my attention returning to her. She was watching me, her eyes a mixture of fear, fury, and reluctant respect.
“Let’s start with an easy one,” I began. “Why Roman?”
She hesitated, her throat working. “He was the easiest target.”
“Easiest how?”
“He’s… the most visible,” she replied in a hoarse, raw whisper. “His reputation, his habits. He’s a known quantity. It’s easier to get close to someone when everyone is already watching them.”
“And what did you take from him?”
She shook her head again, a more frantic movement this time. “Nothing. I didn’t take anything.”
I leaned in closer, my mouth next to her ear. “Lying to me is a very bad idea, Kara.”
“I’m not lying,” she insisted, her voice regaining some strength. “I didn’t take anything. I was just… supposed to get… some information.”
“What information?”
“About AI development,” she said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “Specifically, next-gen autonomous drone systems. Firmware, targeting algorithms, blacklisted code.”
My blood ran cold. This was bigger than a simple case of corporate espionage. This was a threat to our entire operation. To the family’s future.
“Who sent you?” I demanded.
She hesitated again, her eyes darting away from mine.
“Look at me!” My voice was a whipcrack. “Who. Sent. You.”
“ARCHEON,” she whispered, the name a confession and a curse.
My jaw tightened. For once, I didn’t know what she was talking about, but I would, and soon.
“What do they want with our tech?”
She finally met my eyes, and for the first time, I saw it. Not fear, not defiance, but a deep, weary resignation.
“They’re not just a group, Lev,” she answered me quietly. “They’re a network. They don’t have a single agenda. They have a hundred. They sell stability to one side and chaos to another. They’re the kind of people who start wars just to sell the bullets.”
“And what did they want with you?”
Her gaze faltered. “I’m… a specialist.”
“A specialist in what? Drugging men and robbing them blind?”
“In getting into places I don’t belong,” she shot back, a flash of the old Kara. “In getting people to talk. In being invisible.”
“So why Roman?” I pressed. “Why not me?”
She let out a short, bitter laugh. “You’re too paranoid. Roman’s a weakness. He’s self-indulgent. An open door.”
A slow, cold smile spread across my face. “So you thought you’d use my brother’s dick as a key.”
Her chin lifted, her jaw set, a bit of defiance returning to her eyes. “It’s what he’s best known for, isn’t it?”
My hand shot out, wrapping around her throat. Not hard enough to choke, just hard enough to remind her who was in control.
“Careful, Kara.”