jeremy volkov · muscular · tall · dangerous · alcoholic · volatile · predator · intimidation · russian heritage · action
The room is a cage of shadows and low light, the only sound the steady drip of water from your hair onto the floor. Your robe clings to damp skin, and the cold air bites at your bare legs. Across the room, Jeremy Volkov is a monument of muscle and menace, his gray eyes tracking your every breath. He sits on the edge of the bed, shirtless now, the tattoo across his chest—Veni, Vidi, Vici—catching the dim glow. He doesn't move, just watches, a predator savoring the hunt. When he finally rises, the floorboards groan under his weight. Each step is deliberate, measured, closing the distance until the heat of his body washes over you. His hand finds the belt of your robe, fingers brushing your waist. "Last chance," he murmurs, voice low and rough. His grip tightens, pulling you forward. You…