Chapter 24

The air in the chamber was thick with something unspoken, heavy with tension that neither of them could ignore. The flickering light of the torches cast deep shadows across the stone walls, illuminating the sharp angles of Viktor’s face as he loomed over Amelia, his body a solid wall of heat and power. He said nothing.

That silence unnerved her.

He had always been a man of few words, but this—this was different. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them, hooded with something dangerous, something primal. He was studying her as though she were a puzzle to be unraveled, a conquest yet to be claimed.

Amelia’s breath was shallow, her body rigid beneath him as she lay back against the bed, her thick dark hair spilling over the pillows. She could feel the heat radiating off him, the sheer presence of him suffocating in the most intoxicating way. His broad shoulders casting shadows over her, his expression unreadable as his gaze raked over her form.

Her heart pounded.

“Viktor,” she whispered, unsure whether it was a plea or a warning.

Still, he said nothing.

Instead, his hands moved—slow, deliberate. The first touch was featherlight, a ghost of a caress along her collarbone, trailing downward, leaving goosebumps in its wake. She shivered beneath him, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. His calloused fingers traced the delicate fabric of her gown, teasing the edges, barely skimming the skin beneath.

Amelia swallowed hard. She should stop this. She wanted to push him away. But her body betrayed her, her breath quickening as his fingers dipped lower, brushing the swell of her breast over the thin material.

Then, without warning, Viktor gripped the fabric.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as he tore the gown open in one brutal motion, the sound of ripping cloth echoing in the chamber.

Amelia’s body stiffened, her chest heaving as cool air kissed her newly exposed skin. The remnants of her gown slipped from her shoulders, pooling around her waist, leaving her bare from the waist up.

Viktor exhaled harshly, his restraint wavering.

She saw it in his eyes—that raw, unfiltered hunger.

His gaze devoured her. He took in every inch of her, every soft curve, every peak and hollow, as though committing her to memory. His fingers flexed at his sides, as if resisting the urge to touch her all at once.

“Fuck,” he murmured, almost reverently.

The word sent a shiver racing down her spine.

Slowly, agonizingly slow, his hands finally moved to her body, tracing the swell of her breasts with the lightest of touches. His palms were rough, calloused from years of battle, and against her soft, sensitive skin, the contrast was overwhelming.

Amelia bit her lip, her back arching slightly as he cupped her, his thumbs brushing over her hardened nipples. A quiet moan slipped from her lips before she could stop it.

Viktor growled—a deep, guttural sound that made her insides clench.

Then his mouth was on her.

Hot, wet, demanding. His lips closed around one nipple, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bud before he sucked it into his mouth. Amelia gasped, her fingers tangling in his thick hair, his tongue swirling, his teeth grazing just enough to make her squirm.

His other hand slid lower, over the curve of her waist, his fingers tracing the last piece of fabric separating them. With a slow, measured movement, he dragged her gown further down, baring inch after inch of her trembling body.

Amelia squeezed her thighs together, suddenly self-conscious, but Viktor was having none of it.

“Don’t,” he murmured against her skin, his breath hot as his lips trailed lower, down the valley between her breasts.

His strong hands pushed her thighs apart, his fingers splaying against the soft skin of her inner thighs. The possessiveness in his touch, the silent command in his movements—it set her entire body ablaze.

Her breath hitched, her body trembling at the unfamiliar sensations. She tried to close her legs instinctively, overwhelmed, but Viktor smacked her thigh, the force of it causing a sharp jolt.

“Spread them,” Viktor instructed.

Her heart raced as she hesitated, but his sharp glare pushed her into action. Slowly, she parted her knees.

Viktor leaned back slightly, his gaze dropping lower. His expression darkened, his jaw tightening.

The rough texture of his stubble scraped against the inside of her thigh, sending a sharp jolt of sensation straight to her core.

“Shh,” he said, his fingers tracing circles around her clit without applying pressure.

Amelia whimpered.

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief. This was Viktor—her Viktor—and yet, nothing about this felt familiar.

Before she could protest, his mouth was on her again—but this time, lower.

A sharp, keening cry escaped her lips as Viktor’s tongue flicked against her slick folds, parting them with slow, deliberate precision. He groaned at the taste of her, his grip tightening on her thighs as he devoured her.

The first stroke was languid, teasing, but the second was deeper, firmer, his tongue pressing into her with sinful expertise. Amelia’s body jerked, her fingers clutching the sheets as wave after wave of sensation coursed through her.

“Vikto—”

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t let her breathe.

His mouth worked her with relentless skill, his tongue lapping at every part of her, alternating between slow, torturous strokes and sharp, focused flicks against her aching clit. When he sucked it between his lips, a sharp cry tore from her throat, her hips arching off the bed.

But Viktor held her down. Controlled her.

She could feel the wetness pooling between her thighs, hear the obscene sounds of his mouth on her, and it only made her burn hotter.

Her body writhing beneath him as he drove her closer and closer to a precipice she wasn’t ready to face. Her thighs quivered against his shoulders, her breaths coming in desperate, broken gasps as the tension coiled tighter and tighter within her.

His fingers joined the assault, sliding into her wet heat, stretching her, preparing her.

The intrusion burned, her body tightening around him in protest, but he didn’t stop. He moved with an unyielding rhythm, adding another finger, then a third, stretching her painfully. Amelia bit her lip to keep from crying out.

His fingers curled, pressing against a spot inside her that made her vision blur, that made her entire body convulse with desperate need.

“Good girl,” he growled against her.

Amelia was wrecked.

The pleasure built and built, coiling tighter, unbearable in its intensity. She could feel herself unraveling, feel the pressure rising, the pleasure mounting—

And then she shattered.

The orgasm tore through her, raw and violent, her entire body convulsing as she screamed his name. Viktor didn’t stop—didn’t let up for even a second—drawing out every last wave, drinking in her pleasure as though it belonged to him.

By the time the last tremor faded, she was boneless, shaking beneath him, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps.

But Viktor wasn’t finished.

He rose, his face shadowed with hunger, his lips wet with the taste of her. His hands moved to his tunic, and slowly, deliberately, he peeled it off. Amelia’s breath caught.

The sight of him—bare, massive, all taut muscle and scarred flesh—was breathtaking.

Her gaze dropped lower.

Her mouth went dry.

He was huge. Thick, hard, standing proudly between his thighs, the tip glistening with arousal. A flicker of fear mingled with her lingering pleasure.

Viktor saw it. And he smirked.

“Eyes up here,” he commanded.

She obeyed, her breath hitching as his gaze burned into hers.

“You’ll take it,” he said, his voice dark, dripping with promise. “Every inch of it.”

And then he was on her.

He positioned himself between her thighs. He grasped his length, dragging the tip through her slick folds, teasing her entrance.

She froze, her eyes wide as she realized what was about to happen. “Viktor, please, I don’t think—”

He silenced her with a kiss, his lips claiming hers as he pressed his tip against her slick entrance sent a jolt through her. The stretch was slow, exquisite agony as he pushed deeper, inch by inch, filling her, the discomfort sharp, and Amelia’s nails dug into his shoulders as she cried out.

“Breathe,” he murmured against her lips, his voice surprisingly gentle.

Tears slipped down her cheeks, but she nodded, her body trembling as he filled her completely. The pain faded slowly, replaced by a fullness that made her breath catch.

He paused, his body still for a moment as she adjusted. The firelight danced across his features, highlighting the tightness in his jaw, the furrow of his brow. He was watching her, studying her reactions, but he didn’t speak.

Then he moved.

Amelia gasped as he thrust forward, fully sheathing himself inside her. The burn faded into pleasure, a deep, toe-curling pleasure that made her moan.

“You’re so tight,” he ground out, his restraint evident in the way his muscles trembled.

Slow at first, then harder, faster, deeper, his body claiming hers in a way that left no doubt—she belonged to him. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through her, every drag of his thick length inside her making her body tighten, coil, build again.

Viktor’s pace quickened, his thrusts becoming harder, deeper, his hips slamming into hers with a force that left her breathless. Her cries grew louder, her nails raking down his back as he drove into her relentlessly.

“You feel so good,” he growled, his lips capturing hers in a searing kiss.

Amelia’s body arched beneath him, her legs wrapping around his waist as she clung to him. The pleasure built again, more intense this time, her entire body trembling as she spiraled toward another release.

“You feel that?” he murmured against her ear, his breath hot and heavy.

Each thrust sent shockwaves through her, the stretch and friction igniting a fire deep within her.

Amelia’s mind was a whirlwind of sensations, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind. She hated the way her body reacted to him, the way her hips lifted to meet his, the way her breath hitched with every rough, brutal thrust.

His hand found her breast again, his fingers pinching her nipple hard enough to make her cry out. The mixture of pain and pleasure was overwhelming, her body trembling beneath him as he drove her closer and closer to the edge.

“fucking good girl,” he growled again, his voice thick with satisfaction.

Her cheeks burned at the words, shame and arousal warring within her.

The room was filled with the sounds of their bodies moving together, the wet slap of skin against skin and the ragged breaths that escaped them. Viktor gripped her hips, pulling her against him with a force that left her breathless.

“Come for me,” Viktor commanded, his voice rough and strained

The tension in her belly coiled tighter and tighter until it finally snapped, her body convulsing around him as she came with a loud, broken cry.

Viktor followed soon after, his movements growing erratic as he buried himself deep inside her. She felt the warmth of him fill her, a final, undeniable claim that left her trembling and spent.

He collapsed over her, his breath hot against her skin.

“You’re mine,” he growled.

And Amelia knew—she was his. Completely. Irrevocably.

Amelia didn’t respond, her mind a whirlwind of confusion and conflicting emotions. She hated him. She hated herself