“Oh, Sergei doesn't want me dead. He wants me weak.”
Jonah absorbs that. His fingers press into the edge of the notebook. “Until when?”
The question hangs between us like a live wire. I've got no fucking clue. I just hope that Lev and Nikolai are safe.
“That’s the point, Jonah. That’s part of the mindfuck. The not knowing.”
Jonah wets his lips. “Have you ever... thought about getting out? The room has many windows.”
I huff. “In the few instances I was conscious? Of course. But if I disappear, they won't come after me. They’ll go after the people I left behind. The ones who are close.”
His fingers curl into the sheet. “Your family.”
“Yes.” My gaze comes back to him, sharp enough that he stills. “Sergei has no loyalty to the Morozov family. Only to himself. Unlike me.”
Jonah swallows. “So... running would make it worse.”
“It would be a massacre.”
“That’s not really a choice.”
I shift closer, lowering my voice. “It is if you know how to stay dangerous. If I run, he wins. If I stay, I can still see the board. Still move pieces. Still decide who bleeds.”
Jonah’s breath hitches. I dip my mouth to his ear. “And no one in this house touches what's mine without paying for it.”
Jonah stills, his pulse jumping under my lips. He's terrified, but he's not pulling away.
“You don't take care of men like me unless you're ready for what comes with it.” Tightening my grip at the back of his neck, I pull him close. “Come here, krasavchik. Kiss me.”
“I—I shouldn't…”
His face flushes. Then he closes the distance. The moment his lips press to mine, a growl breaks out of me. “That’s it. Closer,” I command against his mouth.
Jonah nudges my lips. I open for him and wait for his tongue. It touches mine, testing. Dragging him closer by the neck, I take control. His tongue's trembling against mine, a wet contact.
Shifting my weight, I press him into the mattress, bracing my forearm against the headboard to keep the tension off my injury. His fingers fly to my shoulders, then curl in my shirt. Pushingmy thigh between his, I feel his erection. His hips lift at once, seeking pressure.
"That’s it. Show me what you need."
He moves again, with more need. I slide my palm down his side and grip his hip. He jerks, his lips parting on a sound.
“Oh, god... Viktor,” he breathes out.
“Good.” My mouth brushes his ear. “Keep going.”
He tries to speak, but nothing comes out. Shutting his eyes, he pushes into my thigh again, chasing friction. I press my forehead to his and watch him lose control. “Look at me. Tell me what you want, krasavchik.”
“I want... you,” he stammers.
“Then take me. All of me.”
He shivers. I kiss him again before I let my hand drift lower and slip inside his pants, growling when he whines.
“Feel good krasavchik?”
“Fuck…”
I cup him through the fabric. He's already hard and pushing into my palm. I open his pants and slip my fingers inside. His skin is hot. Hard. So fucking ready. Jonah gasps when I close my fist around his cock. “Viktor...”
