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Volk’s eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something—regret? Guilt? It vanished, replaced by a cold, emotionless stare.
He shrugged. “I’ve done my research, Sofiya. Helena isn’t who you think she is.”
A lump formed in my throat. “You’re lying,” I repeated, my voice shaking. “She raised me. She’s my mama.”
Volk sighed bitterly. “Nyet. She is not.”
He dropped onto the bed, phone in hand, fingers tapping and swiping. He was probably texting the woman he sneaked off to see at night. I’d heard him creeping down the stairs and coming back hours later when everyone else was asleep. His dismissive attitude only fueled my anger.
I stormed over, snatched his phone, and threw it across the room. It landed with a loud thud. I didn’t care where it landed, as long as it was out of his reach.
“Stop ignoring me!” I screamed.
The room went dead silent, the crash of his phone still echoing. I stood there, chest heaving, eyes blazing with fury. One moment he was on the bed, radiating anger. The next, he was on his feet, gripping my neck and throwing me onto the mattress.
His body pressed against mine, his face only inches from mine. “Fuck, Sofiya,” he groaned, his grip tightening as he clicked his tongue.
Then, without warning, his lips crashed onto mine with fierce hunger, silencing my protests. His kisses were rough and demanding, giving no room for resistance. His hands roamed my body, leaving hot trails on my skin. I tugged at his hair, just like I’d fantasized so many times before.
As our bodies moved together, time seemed to stop. His weight on me, his breath on my skin, and the mix of pleasure and pain nearly made me forget my own name.
He yanked off my nightgown, leaving me exposed in my light blue thong. Without missing a beat, he grabbed my breasts. A deep, satisfied sound came from him as he focused on my right nipple, his other hand pinching the left one.
My moans filled the room as he lifted his head, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and grazing his lips against mine. “Take it off.”
I furrowed my brow, a little thrown.
Then it hit me. He wants me to take off my thong.
“You first,” I whispered, my eyes locked on his chest, hoping he’d take off his clothes too.
He shook his head. “You never listen, do you?”
Then he positioned himself over me, pinning my hips between his legs.
Slowly, he unbuttoned his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine.
I watched, mesmerized, as his shirt fell away, revealing his defined chest and strong arms.
My hands wandered over his skin, tracing the tattoos on his left arm—an intricate snake coiled around hieroglyphs, a wolf howling at the moon, and the name Silas boldly inked on his wrist.
Caught up in the moment, I leaned in and kissed a trail up his tattooed arm, savoring the taste of his skin. I continued up to his neck, licking it lightly and making him shiver. When I kissed him fiercely, he pulled back and gripped my hair firmly.
“Take it off,” he whispered.
You can do this.
Come on. Now is not the time to be shy, Sofiya!
Determined not to let this moment slip away, I brushed a few stray strands of hair behind his ear, letting my fingers linger on his skin.
“Take it off yourself,” I whispered, my voice barely above a breath.
He smirked in response.
He leaned in, pressed his chest against mine, and claimed my lips with a fierce kiss. His tongue explored my mouth with a raw intensity, like he'd been waiting for this moment forever. When he reached my breasts, his warm breath and gentle nips on my nipples made me moan softly. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he trailed kisses down my belly. When he got to my hips, he grinned and tugged at the edge of my underwear with his teeth.
“Fuck, Sofiya, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmured as he held my legs apart.
