Paying The Bratva’s Debt

drag my finger up and down before centering on her clit. She gasps sharply, and I watch her fingers claw at the pool lounger. Beneath the tousles of her red hair, I can see her face crumpling in pleasure as I slowly rub her aching little button.
I add pressure—both with my hand pinning her to the chair by the small of her back, and with my finger on her clit. I rub faster in deliberate circles as she moans into the chair. Her ass rises, pushing back greedily for my hand. Her slick desire coats my fingers as I roll her clit over and over.
I lean over her, until my lips are right by her neck. I growl deeply into her ear as she gasps, panting in desire.
“Come for me,” I snarl quietly. “Come for me right fucking now.”
She jolts, bucks against my hand, and then chokes out a moan. I can feel her body react to my demand, coming instantly for me. Her pussy floods my fingers with her wetness and she buries a scream into the crook of her arm. I let my fingers stroke through her dewy lips once more, before I slowly pull away.
Desire roars inside of me. I care not that it’s broad daylight. I don’t give a shit anymore about anything except taking this girl, right here and now. My cock hungers for her, straining obscenely at the confines of my shorts.
But then suddenly, I hear footsteps. With a furious curse, I slip my hand from her bikini bottoms. Fiona’s blushing deeply as she scrambles, reaching back to quickly tie her top back up. I glance up as Nina strides around the corner. She narrows her eyes, shaking her head at me. And I know it’s because I’m sitting on the edge of Fiona’s pool chair, shirtless, with her in a damn bikini.
“Viktor,” she says curtly. Now I know she’s pissed. Nina might call me by my first name when we’re alone. But around others aside from Lev, she defers to Mr. Komarov. I know instantly that the “Viktor” is her admonishing me for being so cavalier with a girl who is decidedly my prisoner.
“Yes?” I growl. I don’t stand, because it would be obscene given my current state.
Nina purses her lips. Her eyes drop past me to Fiona, but then they snap back to me. “Your…” she frowns. “Your guests of honor have arrived. Lev is with them, at the docks.”
I stiffen, but then relief washes through me. “Good,” I growl. I let the tension out with a slow exhale. “Good. Thank you, Nina. I’ll be inside in a minute, if you could have the car ready.”
She nods. “Will do.” Her eyes dart past me to Fiona again. But then she shrugs, turns, and marches off.
I turn back to Fiona. She’s blushing darkly, her face red and her eyes wide. But she doesn’t look away when my gaze finds hers.
“I have work,” I say quietly.
She nods, still blushing.
“It’s a good thing I was here,” I grunt softly.
“So that I wouldn’t get sunburned?” she asks softly.
“So that you wouldn’t have to wait until nighttime to do that to yourself again.”
Her mouth falls open as her face grows an entirely new shade of crimson.
“I—”
I smile hungrily and lean close. “Or perhaps you still will, but just with something better to think about now than just fantasy.” I look her in the eye as she blushes furiously. I slowly bring my hand to my lips, and I suck the very fingers that were just rubbing her pussy to orgasm into my mouth and lick them clean.
Fiona watches with wide, lust-filled eyes, her face beet red. Her lips quiver like she’s desperately looking for something to say to save herself. But before she can say a thing, I move. I lean down, my hand slides into her hair, and I yank her mouth to mine. She stiffens and then melts against me as I kiss her. My desire throbs inside, my cock rock-hard. I kiss her slowly and deeply, before I gently pull away.
As much as I want to drag her to my bed, I have business. I stand, smiling to myself at the way her eyes fall and widen on the huge bulge in my shorts. Then I turn and walk away, the taste of her sweet little cunt like candy on my lips.

9 Fiona
My entire body throbs with heat and desire. Back in my quarters, still in my bathing suit, it feels like I’m trembling on a knife’s edge. On one side, lust, desire, and the deliciously dirty knowledge that I’ve just come by someone else’s fingers but my own for the very first time. On that side, I want to wait by the front door for him to come back so that I can jump him. I want to kiss him until my lips are bruised. I want to touch him the way he touched me.
But on the other side of that knife’s edge is confusion and doubt. It’s fear at the unknown. That side of me genuinely wonders what the events of earlier even mean to a man like Viktor. He’s a dangerous man who runs this city like a shadowy Czar. He’s rich beyond imagination, and ridiculously gorgeous. I mean how many girls has he had as “prisoners” at this palace of a house? How many have become his little poolside playthings?
I scowl and glare at the floor. I hate that I’m jealous of imaginary women. I hate that the dangerous criminal who literally kidnapped me is even capable of making me jealous. And yet I can’t tell if I want to slap him or yank his pants off.
I change out of my suit. I blush, remembering the feel and intimacy of his hands on me. I rinse off in the shower and then slip into comfortable pajama pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I pace my quarters, feeling more and more like a trapped lab rat, until I can’t stand