Page 47 of Violent Love: Viktor

I rubbed a hand over my beard, then tapped ash into the tray.

Me:She’ll undo all my work, and then I’ll be back at square one. I want to keep my suka.

Pakhan:You have six weeks. Make it count.

I groaned, took a long drag of my cigarette, and went back to the file.

Twenty-six years old.

Left state care at eighteen.

Stuck with a useless father and a dead-end job.

I winced at the hotel name.

Ania wasn’t stupid. She’d piece it together.

Was the Pakhan trying to sabotage me?

I glanced back at the screen, and she seemed to have stopped crying. There was no sound, and her body no longer shook. We had a nine-year age gap, and although she had a rough start in life, her soul wasn't black like mine—yet.

I took a sip of my coffee and reviewed my six-week plan.

???

When I brought her lunch, she sat upright. Still. Waiting for instruction. The gimp mask had stayed on for two weeks—only removed for showers.

It was time to bring her downstairs.

I snapped off the eye mask section. Her eyes were red. Puffy. She blinked slowly, adjusting to the light.

“Come downstairs for lunch.”

Her gaze lingered on my snake tattoo before she climbed off the bed and crawled toward me. I would never get tired of watching her crawl for me.

She followed me downstairs, only standing for the staircase. Her fingers clutched the bannister tightly, as if unsteady on her feet.

Once in the kitchen, I walked to her bowl and unzipped my trousers to pull my cock out.

“Do a good job,Suka,” I murmured, and she crawled to my feet.

I unclipped the clamps from her nipples, preferring not to leave permanent damage on those two pink buds. She hissed from the pain before shuffling closer and opening her mouth.

With my cock in hand, I teased her lips with the tip of my semi-erect cock. Her pupils dilated, darkening her eyes, and she placed her hands on my thighs, trying to lick me.

“That’s it. Use that hole and suck your Master’s cum out,” I said, pushing my cock into her mouth.

Her fingers gripped my trousers and she began slowly—sucking, licking, savouring her appetiser. She licked me from sack to tip, dragging her tongue like she was tasting worship. Her eyes never left mine.

My cock hardened, but she licked again. And again.

Before I could tell her to get on with it, she sucked in the tip, rising up until her lips tightened and she drew me deep into her throat.

Her hand wrapped around my shaft, stroking in rhythm with her mouth.

“Now worship my cock with your throat.”

Her eyes lit up at my words, and her hands moved behind me to hold my ass. She swallowed me inch by fucking inch, her throat straining to take me. The sound of her choking herself filled the kitchen.