Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Viktor
My cock ached like a son of a bitch.
Inconvenient. Irritating. But entirely predictable.
I dragged my damp hair back and exhaled slowly, staring at the photo on my phone screen.
Black pencil skirt. Nude stockings. Crossed legs. And that sliver of exposed inner thigh beneath the hem.
The angle was careful, like she was afraid of being caught, but there was something defiant about it too. I could picture her taking it—biting her lip, cheeks flushed, fingers trembling as she hit the button.
And under that skirt, she wore nothing.
Just like I'd ordered. She'd thrown that scrap of black lace in the trash.
I leaned back in my chair. My suit pants were uncomfortably tight. The office was empty, Manhattan's skyline stretching beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows, but all my attention was locked on that photo.
Not enough.
Not nearly fucking enough.
I pressed the intercom.
"Did you get it?"
"Got it, Pakhan." Yuri's voice was calm. "Want me to bring it in now?"
"Get in here."
Yuri pushed through the door. He carried a small trash bag, expressionless as he set it on my desk.
"Boss. What you asked for."
"Out."
"Yes, sir."
The door closed again.
I stared at the bag. My pulse picked up. This was fucked up. But I reached for it anyway.
A scrap of black lace lay inside.
I lifted it. The fabric was soft, still warm, carrying her scent and something more intimate. I brought it to my nose and inhaled deeply.
Her smell.
Sweet. Musky. Traces of arousal.
Damp.
When she'd thrown it away, it had already been wet.
My hand moved to my zipper. Wrong. I should wait until tonight, until I got home, until I had proper privacy. But I was done waiting.
I unzipped and freed my aching cock. Then I opened my computer and pulled up the surveillance feed.
Hailey Woods sat at her desk.
Her posture was slightly off—legs pressed tight together, shifting every so often in that barely noticeable way, like she wasn't quite used to the empty coolness under her skirt.
I wrapped the damp black lace around my throbbing cock. The warmth and her intimate scent enveloped me as I stroked slowly at first, savoring the way the delicate material clung to my shaft. My grip tightened, pumping faster.
In my mind, I stormed into her office, slamming the door just loud enough to draw every eye in the open-plan floor.
She looked up, startled, those wide eyes meeting mine as I grabbed her by the waist and bent her over the desk.
Papers scattered. Her skirt rode up instantly, and there it was—her bare, glistening pussy exposed to the entire office.
No panties. Just smooth, pink folds already swollen and dripping from the thrill of being caught.
I forced her legs apart with my knee, spreading her wide so everyone could see how wet she was for me.
"Fuck, look at her," I imagined growling to the stunned coworkers watching through the glass walls. "This tight little cunt belongs to me." I thrust into her hard, burying my cock balls-deep in one brutal stroke.
Hailey cried out, her walls clenching around me like velvet fire, so fucking hot and soaked.
I pounded her without mercy, the desk creaking under us, her tits spilling out of her blouse as I yanked it open.
Every slap of skin echoed. Her moans filled the room—loud, shameless—as I claimed her in front of them all.
"Tell them, Hailey. Tell them you're my dirty little slut."
"Yes—I'm your slut," she whimpered in my fantasy, pushing back against me, her pussy fluttering and gushing down my length. I gripped her hips harder, fucking her deeper, faster, making sure every thrust showed them how perfectly she took me.
My hand jerked furiously now, the lace panties stroking me slick and relentless. Her scent drove me wild.
I was so close. Groaning low, I ripped the panties away at the last second, grabbing a tissue instead. My cock pulsed violently as thick ropes of cum erupted, splattering across the white paper in hot, heavy spurts.
I kept stroking through it, milking every drop while the fantasy played out—Hailey's pussy spasming around me in orgasm, her voice breaking as she screamed my name for everyone to hear.
I slumped back in the chair, breathing hard.
Fuck.
I'd never done this for a woman. Never.
But Hailey was different. She made me lose control.
I cleaned up and carefully tucked the lace into my desk drawer. Then I grabbed my phone and opened the camera.
I glanced down at myself—still half-hard, a bit of residue glistening. I adjusted the angle and took a photo. Then I sent it to her.
A few seconds later, I switched to the surveillance feed.
She sat at her workstation, staring at her screen, cheeks pink, legs pressed tight together. Her phone buzzed on the desk. She picked it up and looked.
Then she froze.
I watched her face go from pink to scarlet as she frantically flipped the phone face-down on the desk.
Perfect.
I waited a few minutes. No reply.
My fingers moved across the screen.
Me: Don't like what you did to me?
This time she saw it. On the monitor, she grabbed her phone, biting her lip as she typed.
Princess: I'm at WORK! That photo almost made me scream!
I smiled.
Me: Then scream.
Princess: Are you insane? I'm in an OFFICE!
Me: I know. So you'll have to hold it in.
Me: Are you wet right now?
Long silence.
Princess: Yes.
Me: Good. I knew you'd like it.
Princess: You're such an asshole.
Me: But you like it, my little slut.
I waited. She didn't reply again.
On the monitor, she turned bright red and slammed her phone face-down on the desk.
I chuckled softly and set down my phone, leaning back in my chair.
Adorable.
Then I pulled my focus back and pressed the intercom.
Time to handle some less pleasant business.
"Yuri. Get in here."
The door opened. He walked in, expression unchanged.
"I want everything on that prosecutor. Matthew." I propped my elbows on the desk, steepled my fingers under my chin. "Find his dirt. Financial holes, sex scandals, abuse of office."
Yuri was silent for a beat. "Pakhan, if I may—your attitude is unusual."
I frowned. "You talk too much, Yuri."
Yuri shut his mouth immediately.
He paused, then added, "Miss Sorokova will be at the estate tonight."
I stiffened. Natalia Sorokova. My ex. Or more accurately, the woman my family had always wanted me to marry.
I made a sound of annoyance. "What does she want?"
"She says it's important. About the joint project between your families. She said she'll wait as long as it takes."
Fuck.
"Tell her I'm busy."
"I did." Yuri glanced at me.
I rubbed my temples. "Then let her wait. I'm not promising I'll be back tonight."
Yuri said nothing, just nodded and left.
By the time I finished work and returned to the estate, night had fully blanketed New York.
The butler met me at the door.
"Good evening, sir. Miss Sorokova is waiting in the sitting room. She's been here three hours."
I loosened my tie and walked into the room.
Natalia sat on the couch in a deep red evening gown, blond hair draped over her shoulders. When she saw me, she stood immediately, flashing a perfect smile.
"Viktor."
"Natalia." I sat across from her. "Yuri said you wanted to talk."
"I do." She sat gracefully. "But first, I wanted to say I've missed you."
I didn't respond.
She didn't seem to notice my coldness. "We haven't seen each other in three months. My father keeps asking when our families can officially announce the partnership."
"That's business," I said. "It has nothing to do with us."
"Really?" She tilted her head, something probing in her gaze. "I remember a time when you didn't say that."
Before. Yes, I'd considered marrying her once.
She checked every box. Beautiful, intelligent, from the right family, understood Bratva rules, never asked me to change.
We'd even slept together a few times. No emotion. Just mutual satisfaction. She never clung. I never promised.
It was perfect.
But that was before.
"Things changed," I said.
"Changed?" She laughed. "What changed? You're still you. I'm still me. Our families still need to cooperate."
"Natalia." I looked at her. "I'm not marrying you."
Her smile froze.
"You're joking."
"I don't joke."
"Why?" She stood and moved toward me. "We're perfect together. I don't interfere with your business, don't ask about your secrets, don't demand promises. I just—"
"Just what?"
"Just want to be with you." Her voice softened. "Viktor, I understand you. I know what you need."
She knelt in front of me, placing her hands on my knees.
"I can give you everything you want."
Her hands started sliding upward.
Before, I would've let her continue. We'd go upstairs, satisfy each other, then leave. Simple.
But now, I just felt irritated.
I caught her wrist.
"Stop."
"Viktor—"
"I said stop."
She froze.
"You've never refused me before."
"I'm refusing you now." I released her hand and stood. "Leave, Natalia."
"Why?" She stood too, real emotion flashing in her eyes for the first time. "Is it another woman?"
I didn't answer.
But my silence was answer enough.
"God." She laughed, but there was no warmth in it. "Who is she? What kind of woman could make you change?"
"I don't owe you an explanation."
"No?" She stared at me. "What about our families' partnership? My father won't be happy."
"If he wants to end it over this, he's welcome to try."
The Ivanov Group never lacked for partners.
Natalia was silent for a long moment.
Then she picked up her purse and smoothed her dress with perfect composure.
"I understand." Her voice regained its calm. "Then good luck, Viktor. I hope she's worth it."
After she left, I poured myself a whiskey and stood at the floor-to-ceiling windows.
The city's lights spread out below.
My city. My empire.
But all I could think about was Hailey.
My body craved her. My brain burned.
I realized something had shifted.
The women who drifted through my life had always been accessories. But Hailey... she'd made me abandon advantage and choose her instead.
I was done being just "Mr. X" on her phone.
Too slow. And I didn't have that kind of patience—waiting for her to crawl to me step by step.
I picked up my phone from the desk, looking at the work progress confirmation she'd sent, and my expression darkened.
The rules had changed. Time to show her who really controlled this city's rules. And this desire—the thought of dropping the pretense—already had me fucking starving for it.