He’s plotting, I can feel it.
And me? I stare at the knife block, mind turning darker. Maybe I need to end this.
Quick.
Clean.
He’s seen too much—me killing that shooter, the bodies, the whole mess. One word to the feds, and I'm done. Witness protection for him, electric chair for me. Or worse… shivved in prison like old Pakhan Sergei.
I think back to him—a mentor, almost. Tough as nails, ruled with an iron fist. But his boy, Anya—a devastatingly pretty thing, half his age—cracked under pressure. He rolled on him for a murder rap. Six months later, Sergei was bleeding out in the yard, and the whole family descended into chaos. Our rivals picked us apart and it took years to rebuild.
Turbulence? It was a fuckingbloodbath.
“Only fools ignore history,” I mutter to myself, sipping the now-lukewarm coffee. I hear the shower still running—him up there, naked, vulnerable.
I could end it now.
Slip in, snap his neck in two.
No mess, no trace.
My stomach twists. The thought sours the coffee.
Eddie’s a Little—defiant, but innocent in this. Those big eyes, the way he ground against me during the spanking...
No. I'm not that monster. Or am I?
But whatever I decide… a decent espresso is the first order of the day.
Chapter 7
Eddie
“D-D-D-D-Daddy,” I stutter, my fingers clasped around my nipples and stretching them, pulling them into the perfect realm of pleasure and pain. “Hurt me. Make me suffer. Put your cock inside my…”
I let go of my nipples and move my hands over the neat pubic hair that leads down to my stiff dick. I can’t quite believe that I’m lying on the guest bed with my pajamas crumpled on the floor while Viktor is downstairs and thinking that I’m in the shower.
I mean, I did turn the shower on at least…
And I guess it will be perfectly hot when I finish myself off…
“Make me swallow you,” I gasp, my hands pumping on my dick and squeezing rhythmically as my imagination runs wild. “Make me gag and choke on your thick, angry Daddy dick…”
I raise my hips and use on hand to work my cock while my other teases and pulls on my balls. God, I’d do anything to have Viktor here right now. Maybe he’d be on the bed with me. Or maybe he’d simply be towering over me, his ruthless eyes glowering down on me as I pleasure myself for his amusement?
Either way, I’m close to cumming. I can feel it rising up inside me. There’s no stopping it now…
“Hurry up!” Viktor calls out from downstairs, his bellowing voice carrying to the bedroom loud and clear, even with the sound of the shower in the bathroom.
“Coming!” I reply, stifling a giggle as my hips buck hard and I cross beyond the point of no return, my entire body spasming in orgasm as I work my hand frantically to give myself the biggest climax I can under the circumstances.
Barely able to stand let alone run, my wobbly legs just about manage to get me off the bed and rush along the hallway toward the shower room.
I need to get myself cleaned up, and fast.
As hot as that was, I’m determined to wash it all away and get my ass out of here ASAP. Nothing has changed as far as that is concerned. And while Viktor might think he’s some kind of criminal mastermind, he’s about to find out that this sculptor can create a few illusions of his own too…
The hot water cascades over me, washing away the evidence of my little solo adventure on the bed. I lather up with some fancy-smelling soap—lavender and something woody, probably Viktor's stash—and let the steam fill my lungs.
