Page 33 of Black Ledger

He saw me.

Kill me now.

But he didn’t do what I expected. He didn’t stop or get flustered. He simply smirked, gripped her hips, and moved harder, all the while his eyes stayed latched to mine.

Seconds stretched. Or minutes. I couldn’t tell. All I could sense was unfiltered, undeniable tension.

Oh, God. I shuddered, and my heart jumped into my throat, a bead of sweat rolling down my spine.

The air between us felt tight enough to snap. His gaze burned into my skin. The heat of it was so strong I was sure it melted my insides, too. Whatever emotion poured from him was intense, but the worst part was that I couldn’t tell the color of it.

The nature of it.

Was it anger? Amusement? Lust?

God, please don’t let it be lust. I could handle anger. I couldn’t handle lust. Maybe all of the boys were right. I was a prude. I didn’t care about sex. I cared about getting into the best college, earning my degree in computer science, and training—being accepted into the mafia as an equal to the boys.

I wanted power. I did not care about sex or Severin Volkov.

The intensity was too much, and I needed to look away. Oh, kill me now. I wanted to run out of the room and never look at him again, but if I did, Severin would never respect me.

And I hadn’t spent the last nine years training with the boys to lose all respect now. So I tilted my chin up, lifted an eyebrow, and smirked back. My look said, So what? Am I supposed to be horrified?

Frustratingly, it only made the corner of his mouth tilt higher, and he raised an eyebrow in return as if saying, Like what you see, Zaya?

And oh, God yes, I liked what I saw, and that was disturbing because Xeniya Morosova did not find Severin Volkov attractive. That was not okay.

I stayed perfectly still, refusing to break the tension. I was not weak. So we stayed like that until he came with a roar, paused for a slight moment, and pulled out.

I pinched my eyes shut to gain composure, and then forced myself to keep my gaze up—in the safe zone.

Do not look down.

Do. Not. Look. Down.

Well, fuck.

I looked.

And fuck. It was big. Far too big to comfortably fit inside a woman. God, look away, Xeniya. Look the fuck away.

I clenched my fists, trying to focus on something else, and finally, finally, I glanced back up at his face.

Which was a massive mistake.

Because the glee glittering on his sculpted features should have been illegal.

I was going to punch him or myself. This was not okay.

Miss Redfield made a sound, and our attention drifted to her.

A white substance dripped down her legs, and she whimpered, reaching back for him and saying, “No, I’m not done with you yet.”

“We have company,” Severin said, coldly, tucking himself back into his pants and zipping and buttoning up his jeans.

Not a single hair was out of place. It didn’t look like he’d done anything, let alone fuck someone on a desk.

Miss Redfield’s gaze whipped to me, and her face blanched. Her whole body trembled.