My Russian Billionaire Boss 🔐 | Part 14: Distance at Thirty Thousand Feet (Patreon)

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

I woke to the pale gray light of Seattle slipping through the half open curtains and the kind of deep ache that reminded every inch of my body exactly what had happened the night before. My ass throbbed with a slow delicious burn. My thighs felt heavy and used. The sheets were twisted around my waist and they smelled like sweat and sex and the faint trace of Viktor’s woody cologne that always clung to his skin. I lay there for a long moment just breathing it in. My cock twitched half hard against the mattress even though I had come twice under him only hours ago. The memory of his thick length stretching me open… his hips snapping forward and the way he had growled my name like he owned it, played on loop behind my eyes.

I reached across the bed without thinking. My fingers brushed cold empty sheets. The space beside me was already cold. He wasn’t there.

Viktor stood at the floor to ceiling window fully dressed in a fresh brown suit that hugged his broad shoulders and tapered down his back like it had been tailored to every ridge of muscle. The fabric looked expensive and perfect against the morning light. He held a steaming cup of coffee in one hand and spoke low and fast into his phone. His voice carried that thick Russian accent I had come to crave but today it sounded clipped and tight. Worried.

He said something sharp in Russian then paused. "Da. Ya znayu. Eto ne khorosho. Derzhi menya v kurse. Nichego ne delay bez menya."

Yes. I know. This is not good. Keep me updated. Do nothing without me.

I sat up slowly. The ache flared hotter between my legs and I did not care that I was completely naked. My skin still felt flushed from his hands. I slid out of bed and walked straight to him. My bare feet were silent on the thick carpet. When I reached him I wrapped my arms around his waist from behind and pressed my chest flush to his back.

My cheek rested against the warm fabric of his suit jacket. He smelled like fresh coffee and clean skin and the ghost of last night. For one heartbeat he let me hold him. His body stayed solid and warm under my hands.

Then he stepped away.

He finished the call with a sharp "Do svidaniya" and lowered the phone. When he turned those gray eyes locked on mine. They were already guarded again. He reached out anyway. One big hand caught my hip and pulled me flush against him. His other palm slid down and squeezed my bare ass hard enough to make me gasp. The pressure sent a fresh spark of heat straight to my cock.

"The job is not finished Kai." His voice stayed low and controlled. "We have the tablet. But the full decryption keys are still locked. We cannot celebrate yet."

I opened my mouth to say something. Anything. Maybe tell him how much I still felt him inside me. How the ache made me want to drop to my knees right there and beg for more. Instead I swallowed hard and nodded.

He released me and took one step back. His hand lingered on my hip for another second before it dropped away. "We are leaving soon. Get dressed Lennox."

The power balance snapped back into place like a door slamming shut. One minute I had been pressed against the man who had fucked me raw and called me his obedient boy. The next I was just the hacker he had blackmailed into the job and his boardroom. I turned and walked back to the bed. My legs still felt shaky. I pulled on the first clothes I found while he watched me with that same unreadable stare. Neither of us spoke again. The silence felt heavier than any words could have been.

The private jet ride home stretched long and quiet in the worst way. We sat across from each other at the polished table reviewing the stolen data from the tablet. Viktor was all business. He leaned in and pointed out the next layers we needed to crack his finger brushing mine every time he turned the screen toward me. Each accidental touch sent a flush of heat crawling up my arm and straight down to my cock. I fought to keep my face neutral. I kept my eyes locked on the code like it was the only thing that mattered.

"These endpoints here." He tapped the screen. "They are the next wall. We break them and the decryption keys should open."

I nodded and typed a quick note on my laptop. "Got it. I can run a few scripts once we are back in the penthouse."

He did not smile. He just gave a short nod and went back to his own screen. Later when the cabin lights dimmed he moved to the seat across the aisle and opened his laptop. The jet hummed around us. I stared out at the clouds instead. The replay started whether I wanted it or not. Every thrust. Every growl. Every time he had called me his while he was buried so deep, I could barely breathe. I felt attached to him in a way that made my stomach twist.

God I was pathetic. One night of the best sex of my life and suddenly I was catching feelings for the man who had blackmailed me into his life. I felt bad for even thinking it. Viktor Volkov did not do feelings. He did control. He did power. And here I was getting emotionally attached like some lovesick idiot who had forgotten how this story always ended. With me broken and him walking away untouched. Still. I could not stop the warm pull in my chest every time I glanced over and saw him frowning at his screen. I wanted to crawl into his lap and kiss that frown away. I wanted to hear him call me his again without the walls up. I wanted to ask him what the hell we were doing now that the line between blackmail and whatever this was had blurred so completely. But I stayed silent. I watched the clouds and let the ache settle deeper into my bones.

By the time the wheels touched down in Palo Alto the air between us felt electric and dangerous. Like one wrong word could set the whole jet on fire. We did not speak again until the car pulled up to the glass tower.

Back in the penthouse Viktor disappeared into his office for a string of calls before I even had time to unpack. The door clicked shut behind him and I was left alone with the tablet and the company laptop on the long marble island. I wandered the open space for a while. The city lights glittered below the glass walls like nothing had changed. But everything had. My body still remembered him. My mind would not stop turning over the way he had looked at me in that hotel bed right before he came. The way his gray eyes had gone dark and hungry. The way his hands had gripped my hips like he never wanted to let go.

I tried to distract myself. I showered. I ate something from the fridge. I paced the living room and told myself I was just tired. Late that night, after I heard his bedroom door close I could not sleep. The guest room felt too quiet. Too empty. I padded out to the living area in nothing but loose sweatpants and grabbed the tablet. I told myself I was doing this for him. I had to do whatever I could to help Viktor. If I cracked the rest of the decryption tonight maybe he would look at me the way he had in Seattle again. Maybe he would pull me close instead of stepping away. Maybe he would stop treating me like the hacker he owned and start treating me like the man he had fucked so thoroughly I still felt him hours later. I settled on the sofa and started peeling back one more encrypted layer. My fingers flew over the keys. The penthouse was silent except for the low hum of the air system and the occasional click of my laptop.

The clock on the screen read two thirty in the morning when it finally cracked.

The folder appeared without warning. Labeled simply St Petersburg Archive. Inside were rows of video files. The thumbnails were blurred but unmistakable. A younger Viktor naked. Sweat gleaming across his broad chest and the deep cuts of his abs. He was pressing someone down against server racks in what looked like an old dimly lit office. The angle showed only his powerful body and the curve of his shoulders. No face visible on the other person. Just raw power and need frozen in a single frame.

My heart slammed against my ribs. I clicked the first file before I could stop myself.

It auto played for three seconds. The video was silent but the image hit like a punch. Young Viktor moving hard and dominant. His hips snapping forward. The muscles in his back flexing with every thrust. Sweat traced down his spine. His head was tilted back slightly, mouth open in a silent groan of pure pleasure. The other person was pinned beneath him against the metal racks. The clip ended abruptly.

I slammed the laptop shut so hard the sound echoed off the marble floors. My pulse raced. My cock twitched hard against my sweatpants even though my brain was screaming at me to stop. The archive was real. And it was far more personal than anything I had expected.

I sat there in the dark staring at the closed screen. My hands were shaking. The penthouse felt colder now. Emptier. I whispered to the empty room because I could not keep it inside anymore.

"Why the fuck does Irina have that video of Viktor." My voice cracked on the words. "What the hell did you do Viktor."

The silence swallowed my question whole. I stayed there on the sofa for a long time. The tablet glowed faintly beside me like a secret I was not supposed to know. My body still ached from Seattle. My mind spun with the new image of a younger Viktor lost in the same kind of hunger he had shown me last night. I did not know what any of it meant. I only knew that whatever was in that archive, it was going to change everything.

And I was already in too deep to walk away.────────────────My Russian Billionaire Boss 🔐 | Part 15: Cracks in the Tower