“You can take it.”
He shudders as I push deeper, dragging him back onto my cock with a low growl. “Don’t hide from it. Let him hear you.”
Jonah lets out a broken moan. Reaching around, I take his cock in my palm. It jumps, oversensitive in the air. “N, no, Vik, Please,”
Stroking him slow and firm, I watch him shake. His knees buckle and his whole frame quakes. “Viktor, oh god, I’m—I’m gonna…”
“You give it to me. Right now.”
His body locks all at once. Then he screams into the desk as he comes a second time, a violent, convulsive release. His thighs shake so hard I have to hold him up. His orgasm paints the desk again. I fuck him through every pulse of it, deeper and slower, giving him nowhere to run.
“Jonah,” I murmur, my voice dropping an octave as I feel my own control finally fraying. “Take it for me.”
A weak sound slips out of him, his head lolling against his arm. “Vik, please…”
I give him a slow roll of my pelvis, a brutal, grounding friction that forces a sharp cry from his throat. Gripping his hips, I start fucking him with deep, heavy thrusts that make his whole body jolt against the mahogany. The friction is heavy, the heat between us absolute. I don't care that Nikolai is standing five feet away, or that the house is full of men; in this square of light, Jonah is the only thing that exists.
“You take me. Always.”
I slam into him once more, buried to the hilt. Heat tears through me, wave after wave, spilling deep inside him as his body milks everything from me. I growl into his skin, the sound vibrating through both of us as I spend myself in the heat of him.
Easing out of him once the last pulse fades, I catch him as he nearly collapses. “Vot tak, that’s it. I’ve got you.”
Jonah trembles, boneless, his face tucked into my neck. He's a mess of salt and slick and Morozov power. He's dazed, his eyes flickering toward the doorway where Nikolai is finally turning away, a sharp reminder that we weren't alone.
He exhales like he’s been holding his breath for minutes. “The relay is live. Cracked Babushka’s birthdate. Arrogantbastard used her as the salt.” He taps the screen, his eyes tracking the mess on the desk with a jagged grin. “I’m gonna go find some air before I get any more details I can't scrub from my brain. Tell the nurse I'll send him the GPS for his trailer.”
I don't shift Jonah from my lap. I just reach for a clean napkin and wipe the juice from his chin, my fingers lingering on his jaw. “The bar?” I ask, my voice returning to the cold rasp of the Pakhan.
“A place outside the city. Quiet. I’ll tell the boys to get the black SUV ready.”
I ignore him. Jonah is all I see. “You’re alright,” I murmur, dragging my palm down his spine. “Dyshi, solnyshko.”
He nods weakly, his breath shaky. Behind us, the door clicks shut, leaving the office in a heavy, loaded silence.
Revenge is a cold game, but for the first time, I’ve got something warm to come home to when the blood is dry.
CHAPTER
TWENTY
VIKTOR
“He’s already inside,”Nikolai says as we get out of the car. “The manager reported him coming in with two of his men.”
I don't answer him right away. The winter air at the harbor is a jagged knife against my skin, cutting through the lingering heat from the office. Less than an hour ago, I had Jonah shaking in my lap, his skin slick and his breath hot against my neck. Now, my hands are empty and cold. The transition is a familiar one, a hardening of the blood that happens every time I step out of the light and back into the shadow of the Morozov name.
“You’re quiet, Vitya,” Nikolai notes, leaning against the Maserati’s hood. He lights a cigarette, the orange glow catching the sharp line of his jaw. “Still thinking about the office?”
“Shut up, Niko,” I mutter, though I don’t look at him.
Lev laughs from the other side of the car, checking his weapon one last time. “He’s definitely still in the office. Look at his hands. They’re practically twitching. Our big brother has gone soft for a nurse.”
“I am anything but soft,” I growl, finally meeting Lev’s eyes. “And if you want to keep that tongue in your mouth, you’ll stop talking about what happens in my office.”
Nikolai whistles, blowing a cloud of smoke into the freezing air. “See? There he is. The Pakhan is back. For a second there, I thought we were going to have to do this job while you daydreamed about strawberries and sweat.”
“The strawberries were for him. And the only thing I’m daydreaming about is how loud Sokolov is going to scream.”
