LOGINFrederico Grey Volkov I lifted her spent body off the mattress with both hands under her thighs. Her legs dangled for a second before I settled her astride my lap, her wet pussy resting directly on my still-hard cock. My fingers circled her throat, not squeezing hard, just holding her there so she had to look at me. Her cheeks were flushed deep red, lips swollen from earlier kisses, eyes glassy with need.“Baby, I want you to ride me, okay?” My voice came out low and rough. “I want you to tell me everything you want me to do to you while you ride me. Tell me.”She bit her lower lip, hesitation flickering across her face before the words tumbled out. “Suck me… suck my fucking boobs.”I didn’t make her wait. She leaned in and kissed me hard, tongue sliding against mine. I gripped her hips, lifted her just enough to line my cock up with her entrance, then lowered her slowly onto me. Inch by inch she sank down until her pussy swallowed every thick inch. A broken moan left her throat the
Frederico Grey VolkovI stopped looking at the clock.The numbers had become a taunt — 11:47 p.m. turning into 11:52, then 12:03. She wasn’t coming. Or perhaps she was testing me. Either way, the waiting had become unbearable. I stood up, the whiskey glass still in my hand, and walked to the master bathroom.The shower was hot, almost scalding. I let the water beat against my shoulders, my chest, my back, trying to wash away the tension that had built in my muscles. The steam filled the room, fogging the mirrors. I closed my eyes, letting my mind drift to her — Liliana. The way her body had felt against mine. The way she had whispered my name like a prayer and a curse. The way she had looked at me when I put the choker on her neck.I wanted her here.I needed her here.I finished the shower, dried myself slowly, and slipped on a black silk robe. The fabric was cool against my skin, a small comfort in the large, empty bedroom.I stepped out of the bathroom and stopped.Liliana was stan
Frederico Grey VolkovAlex knelt in the corridor while heavy rain poured down, soaking him to the bone. He had been there for hours. Victor stood opposite him inside the house, staring at him with no emotion. Behind Victor, I sat alone at the chessboard, moving pieces slowly, savoring the quiet rhythm of the game.“Father!!!” Alex cried out again, his voice cracking. This time, tears were streaming down his face, mixing with the rain. It was almost enough.“I’m sorry! Forgive me!” he screamed, voice hoarse from shouting. But I gave no reaction. I simply tapped my fingers on the table in a slow, deliberate rhythm.Victor delivered a sharp slap across Alex’s face. Then another. And another. Each one timed perfectly with my finger taps.Finally, after the third slap, I stood up and walked to the door, watching my stepson’s miserable form kneeling in the rain.“Father…” he crawled forward, but Victor pushed him back firmly. “Father, what have I done?! Hmm? What did I do wrong?” he asked,
Liliana MillerI stared at the apartment Alex and I once shared and felt the need to throw up.The building looked the same — the same faded paint on the door, the same cracked step we used to complain about, the same welcome mat I bought during our first Christmas together. But everything felt wrong now. Twisted. Like a place I used to love had been poisoned.I took a deep breath, pushed the door open, and stepped inside.The moment I did, I froze.The living room was a nightmare. Naked bodies everywhere — girls and guys dancing, laughing, touching each other without shame. Empty bottles and red cups littered the floor. The air was thick with sweat, cheap perfume, and the sickly sweet smell of weed. Music blasted from the speakers, bass thumping so hard it vibrated in my chest. The lights were dimmed low, making everything look cheap and dirty.I felt my stomach turn.A drunk guy stumbled toward me, completely naked, grinning like an idiot. “Woahh, who is this sexy lady… Hey, this is
Frederico Grey VolkovI felt my lips curve up the moment I saw Liliana walk down the stairs.The backless golden short gown clung to her body in all the most dangerous ways, the silver chain running from her neck down to her waist sparkling under the light like a promise. It was elegant, provocative, and completely hers. She turned slowly, showing me the full effect, her cheeks flushed with a mix of nervousness and defiance.“Well?” she asked, voice soft but trying to sound confident. “Do I look good?”“You look dangerous,” I replied, stepping closer. My hands slid from her bare back to her waist, feeling the warmth of her skin against my palms. “Fucking dangerous.”She shivered under my touch but didn’t pull away. “Are you wearing underwear?” I asked, my voice low.“Of course, Mr. Grey! I’m wearing underwear and can you get—”“Get my hands off. Of course, ma’am.” I slid my hands under the hem of the gown, slowly peeling the delicate lace down her legs. She gasped softly as I removed
Frederico Grey VolkovI stared at my wristwatch for a long moment before sitting across from the bald bastard who unfortunately was my rival.Mr. Smith had called for an urgent meeting. The man was a weasel in a three-thousand-dollar suit — the kind who smiled while planning how to bury you. He thought he was clever. He wasn’t. But he was persistent, and in our world, persistence sometimes earned a seat at the table.He leaned back in his chair, a smug grin splitting his face as he studied me.“Grey Volkov. Never thought I’d see the day you’d look this… relaxed. Or should I say, distracted? The great ice king finally has a weakness, eh?”I didn’t smile. I simply folded my hands on the table and waited, letting the silence stretch. Smith hated silence. It made him uncomfortable. Good.He chuckled, trying to fill the void. “Straight to business then. Fine. I never imagined the great Frederico Grey Volkov would be so sloppy. Your assistant — whoever the hell she is — is a big backstabber
Liliana MillerMy body was still trembling. Still full of him.The car moved smoothly down the dark road, but inside my head everything was shattering. I could feel Frederico’s cum leaking out of me, warm and sticky against the leather seat, a constant filthy reminder of what had just happened. My
Alex VolkovAt the age of nine, Frederico Grey Volkov married my mother.He didn’t have to. He was already a powerful man — cold, brilliant, and terrifying to most people. But he took her in, and he took me in too. He gave me his last name. He raised me like I was his real son. Sent me to the best
Liliana MillerThe date was dangerous in the most seductive way.Grey didn’t overwhelm me with flashy gestures or expensive displays of wealth. He took me to a quiet, exclusive restaurant tucked away in a private garden with soft lighting and tables spaced far enough apart for real privacy. The ent
Liliana MillerThe clock on the wall read 8:30 PM when I finally locked my office door, the sound echoing down the empty executive corridor like the final nail in another long, soul-crushing day. My shoulders ached. My feet throbbed inside my heels. All I wanted was to go home, peel off this stiff







