My Russian Billionaire Boss 🔐 | Part 6: I Should Not Care Who Touches You (Patreon)

All characters depicted in this story are fictional and 18 years of age or older. Everything portrayed is safe, sane, and consensual.

The days after that night blurred into a tense routine that felt like walking on a live wire. Every morning I showed up at the penthouse or the office early, dressed in the clothes that still felt like a costume, diving into AetherLynx files while Viktor loomed close enough to make my skin hum. We cracked a few outer layers together, nothing game changing yet, but enough to keep the momentum going. He was all business during the day, barking orders at meetings I shadowed, his voice that low rumble that commanded rooms without effort. But the nights were worse. Late sessions at the penthouse where his knee would brush mine on the sofa, or his hand would linger when passing a tablet. No more balcony presses. No more thumb on my lip. Just the memory of it gnawing at me, making me hard at the worst times, forcing me to jerk off in the guest shower more than once while biting back his name. I told myself it was the adrenaline. The power imbalance. Anything but the truth that I was starting to crave the son of a bitch.

Thursday morning hit like any other. I rolled into Volkov Security at seven sharp, coffee in hand, pretending my head was not still spinning from the dreams where Viktor's cock was not just pressing but buried deep inside me. The lobby buzzed with the usual crowd, coders and execs milling around like ants in a glass hive. I headed straight to the break room for a refill, the space empty except for one guy at the coffee machine.

He turned when I walked in. Tall. Broad. Dark blond hair cut short. Blue eyes that lit up with a smile. Built like he hit the gym hard, white shirt stretched over a chest that screamed former athlete. Daniel, I think his name was. A junior developer.. Openly gay, from what I heard in passing. And hot in that clean cut, approachable way.

“You the new guy who joined last week?” he said, voice smooth and friendly. He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in a way that made his biceps flex under the sleeves.

I nodded, pouring my coffee. “Yeah. Kai. Assistant to the big man himself.”

Daniel laughed. Low and easy. “Lucky you. Volkov is intense. But hey, if you need help finding anything around here, like the good coffee machine or maybe a decent bar after hours, I am your guy.”

His eyes lingered on mine a second too long. Flirty. Obvious. I laughed politely. “I will keep that in mind. This place is a maze.”

He stepped closer. Close enough that I caught the faint scent of his cologne. Something clean and citrusy. “Seriously though. You look like you could use a break from the intensity. We should grab drinks sometime. I know a spot with killer martinis and zero corporate types.”

His smile was the kind that made you feel seen. Charming. Confident. It reminded me of Andrew. The physical similarity hit hard. Same height. Same build. Same dark blond hair and blue eyes that crinkled at the corners. The kind of guy who walked into a room and everyone assumed he belonged. I felt a twist in my gut. Not attraction exactly. More like a ghost poking at old wounds. I opened my mouth to say something neutral.

The break room door swung open.

Viktor walked in. His presence sucked the air out of the space immediately. Gray eyes swept the room. Landed on us. On how close Daniel was standing.

Daniel shut up fast. Straightened. “Mr. Volkov. Morning.”

Viktor nodded once. Curt. “Daniel.”

Daniel muttered something about a meeting and slipped out quickly. Left his coffee half full on the counter.

Viktor turned to me. Jaw ticked once. Subtle. But I saw it.

“My office,” he said. Voice flat. No room for argument.

I followed him down the hall. The silence felt heavy. Charged. His shoulders were tense under the suit jacket. We stepped into his office. He closed the door behind us. The click echoed.

He walked to his desk but did not sit. Turned to face me instead.

“Pack for three days,” he said without preamble. “We leave for Seattle tomorrow morning. Private jet. There is a tech conference. AetherLynx CEO will be speaking. We will gather as much intel as possible. Off record conversations. Network access if we can get it. You will stay close. Shadow every move.”

I nodded. Tried to keep my voice steady. “Got it. Anything specific I need to prep?”

Viktor crossed his arms. Eyes narrowed. “Focus on their public demos. Look for backdoors in the apps they showcase. We will have time on the flight to review.”

He paused. Stepped closer. The air between us thickened.

“And Lennox? Try not to get distracted.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Distracted by what?”

“By whoever decides to flirt with you in the break room.”

My stomach flipped. He had seen it. Heard it. The jealousy was right there under the controlled tone.

I laughed once. Short. Sarcastic. “Why is Mr. Volkov jealous about who his secretary wants to fuck?”

The words hung there. Bold. Stupid. His eyes darkened instantly. In two steps he closed the distance. Backed me against the wall beside his desk. One hand planted beside my head. The other gripped my hip. Hard enough to feel through the fabric.

His body pressed in. Chest to chest. His cock already half hard against my thigh. Thick. Insistent. His breath was hot on my face.

“I do not want you distracted on the job,” he growled. Accent thicker. Rougher. “You are mine until this is done. Focus on that.”

I should have pushed him away. Instead I looked at his lips. So close. Barely an inch away. My own cock twitched hard in my trousers. Aching.

“What if my boss is the one that is distracting me?” I whispered. My voice cracked on the last word. My eyes dropped to his mouth again.

Viktor let out a low sound. Almost a groan. His hand on my hip tightened. Pulled me closer. Our cocks lined up through the clothes. Hard. Grinding once. Slow. The friction sent sparks up my spine.

“You talk too much,” he murmured.

His free hand came up. Thumb traced my lower lip. Slow. Deliberate. Hovering there. Teasing.

I could not stop myself. I parted my lips. Sucked his thumb in. Deep. Tongue swirling around the pad. Tasting salt and skin. Maintaining eye contact the whole time. His gray eyes burned. Flushed high on his cheeks. Breath coming faster.

“Lennox” he breathed. Pulled his thumb out with a wet pop.

Then his mouth crashed onto mine.

Dominant. Manly. Bossy. His tongue pushed in. Claiming. Teeth nipping my lower lip. One hand fisted in my hair, tilting my head back. The other slid from my hip to my ass. Squeezed hard. Pulled me flush against him. Our cocks ground together. Thick lengths rubbing through layers of fabric. I whimpered into his mouth. The sound embarrassing but real. My hands came up. Gripped his shoulders. Felt the muscle flex under my fingers.

He kissed like he fucked. Or at least how I imagined he would. Relentless. Controlling. Every stroke of his tongue making me harder. Wetter. Pre cum probably staining my boxer briefs already.

Then he stopped.

Pulled back. Lips just an inch away. His breath ragged. Mine too.

I moved forward. Chased his lips. Desperate to kiss him back. Desperate to feel his mouth on me again.

His hand in my hair tightened. Held me back.

“Behave, Lennox,” he said. Voice rough. Strained. “Focus on what you were hired to do.”

He stepped back completely. Adjusted his suit jacket. Walked to his desk like nothing had happened. Sat down. Picked up his phone.

I stood there against the wall. Heavy breathing from the kiss. Cock throbbing painfully in my trousers. Lips swollen. Tasting him.

“That will be all, Lennox,” he said without looking up. “Get back to work.”

I nodded. Because words were beyond me. Adjusted myself as discreetly as I could. Walked out of his office on shaky legs.

The hallway felt too bright. Too normal. I headed to my temporary workstation. Sat down. Stared at the screen without seeing it.Daniel. The jealousy. The kiss.

It all crashed together in my head like a bad system overload, fragments of code and memory glitching out at once.

Daniel had been harmless. Flirty but safe. The kind of guy who smiles like he knows exactly what he’s doing and doesn’t mind if you notice. Reminding me of Andrew in the worst possible way; the same dark blond hair, the same easy confidence, the same blue eyes that crinkled at the corners when he laughed. The same body that made you feel small and seen at the same time. I hated how much that similarity stung. Like Andrew had left a template behind and the universe was still printing copies just to fuck with me.

But Viktor seeing it had flipped something dark inside him. Made him snap. Made him claim what he thought was his. The kiss replayed on loop in my skull. His tongue pushing in like he owned the space. His teeth grazing my lip hard enough to leave the ghost of a bruise. His grip in my hair tilting my head back so he could take more. The way his cock felt grinding against mine—thick, hard, promising everything he refused to give. I could still feel the heat of it through our clothes, the slow roll of his hips that had me whimpering into his mouth like I’d forgotten how to breathe.

I thought about dinner at his place a few nights ago. The sauce on my lower lip. His thumb wiping it away slowly, lingering there like he was testing how far he could push before I broke. The start of all this. The moment the line blurred from blackmail to something sharper, something that cut both ways.

And now he pulled back again. Left me hard and aching. Left me tasting him, lips swollen, cock throbbing so hard it hurt to walk straight. Just like that night on the balcony when he’d pressed himself against my ass for one heartbeat and then stepped away like it was nothing.

Seattle tomorrow.

The conference. AetherLynx CEO there in the flesh…speaking, networking, probably shaking hands with the same people who’d kill to get their hands on the code we were trying to steal. Private jet. Hotel rooms. Days and nights trapped in the same orbit as him. No escape. No break room Daniel to flirt with. No walls to hide behind.

I was fucked.

Not literally.

But God, part of me wished I was.

Wished he’d shoved me harder against that wall. Wished his hand had slid down instead of stopping at my lip. Wished he’d unzipped me right there, wrapped those big fingers around my cock, stroked me slow and mean until I begged. Wished he’d dropped to his knees and taken me in his mouth, gray eyes locked on mine while he swallowed every inch. Wished he’d bent me over his desk, yanked my trousers down, and fucked me raw—deep, possessive, whispering in that thick Russian accent that I belonged to him until the job was done and maybe longer.

I wanted it so bad my thighs were shaking.

And the scariest part? I didn’t just want the sex.

I wanted him to stop pulling back.

I wanted him to admit he wanted it too.

I wanted him to stop treating me like a tool and start treating me like something he couldn’t let go of.

Seattle was going to break me.

One way or another.

And I was already counting the hours until it did.

────────────────Firewall of Desire 🔐 | Part 7: The Jet To Seattle