Read Novel Full Chapter 695: Natalya’s Fury: The Storm is Coming
Chapter 695: Natalya’s Fury: The Storm is Coming
Natalya noticed my hesitation and smirked, her voice dripping with amusement. "Nobody enters my mansion," she said, "not even my personal bodyguards." Her tone was final, leaving no room for questions.
She turned to me, her eyes gleaming with something dangerous, something almost predatory. "But you are different, Viper." Her voice lowered, softer but no less commanding. "This is the first time I’ve seen someone like you—someone who kills so smoothly, so effortlessly..."
She paused, her gaze raking over me, lingering just a second too long. "Without even a drop of sweat, or a speck of blood on your clothes..." Her lips curved into a slow, dangerous smile. "You deserve special treatment."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a low, intimate purr. "You will be my exclusive secretary—responsible for my safety, and any other tasks I assign to you."
"Thank you, Boss," I replied, my voice steady and respectful, though my mind was already racing with the possibilities.
Natalya turned, ascending the grand staircase to the first floor, her hips swaying with each step, the sight of her ass moving under the tight fabric of her dress making my fingers itch. She glanced back at me, catching my gaze, her lips quirking in amusement.
"This is my room," she said, gesturing to a massive double door at the end of the hallway. "And you take the room next to mine." Her tone shifted, cold and authoritative once more. "As my bodyguard, you need to be alert all the time. Ready to act."
She paused, her eyes locking onto mine, unblinking. "Now go take a rest. We’ll talk tomorrow."
I turned toward my room, pushing open the door and stepping inside. The space was already prepared, meticulously arranged—clothes laid out on the bed, tailored to my size. Not the standard-issue bodyguard uniforms, not the bulky, tactical gear the others wore. No. This was different.
A complete black suit, sleek and tailored, the fabric so fine it almost gleamed under the low light. I ran my fingers over the jacket, feeling the quality—expensive, durable, designed for both elegance and lethality.
Beside it lay a long black winter jacket, its exterior smooth and classy, cut to perfection, but when I flipped it open, my fingers brushed against the thick, luxurious fur lining the inside. Warmth and comfort, hidden beneath a layer of sleek, intimidating style.
Exactly the kind of thing a man like me would wear—someone who needed to move unseen, unheard, but still command respect with a single glance.
A gun lay on the dresser, polished and loaded, along with towels and other essentials neatly arranged.
I stripped and stepped into the shower, the hot water washing away the grime of the fight, the tension of the night. My mind raced—Natalya, her power, the way she moved, the way she commanded respect without even raising her voice. And tomorrow—tomorrow, I’d see her again.
I dried off and pulled on the black suit, the fabric molding to my body like a second skin. Then, I activated my AI Lens, focusing on the wall separating my room from hers.
The dim glow of the laptop screen cast a soft, sensual light across Natalya’s room, highlighting the curves of her body as she sat on the edge of the bed, her bathrobe clinging to her skin, still damp from the shower.
The silken fabric hugged her thighs, outlining the shape of her legs, the way it draped over her shoulders, barely covering the swell of her breasts. My heart pounded as I watched, my cock already stirring in anticipation.
Then—
She closed the laptop with a sharp snap, setting it aside before standing in one fluid motion.
She reached up, her fingers brushing against the collar of her robe, slowly, deliberately, as if she knew I was watching. The fabric parted, sliding down her shoulders in a teasing motion, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her collarbone, then the black lace of her bra. My breath hitched as the robe slipped further, pooling at her waist, exposing the full curve of her breasts, pushed up by the delicate lace, her nipples hardening under the thin material.
Fuck.
She stood, letting the robe fall completely, sliding down her body like water, until it pooled at her feet. There she was—Natalya, in nothing but black lace panties and a matching bra, her body a masterpiece of curves and edges.
The panties hugged her hips, the fabric so thin I could almost see the shadow of her pussy lips, the way the lace cut into the soft flesh of her ass. Her bra lifted her breasts, making them look fuller, heavier, the cleavage deep enough to make my cock twitch with need.
She turned slightly, giving me a glimpse of her profile, the way her ass curved perfectly, tight and round, begging to be grabbed, squeezed, fucked. The black lace contrasted sharply against her pale skin, making her look even more sinful, more untouchable. My fingers itched to reach through the wall, to tear that lace off her, to feel her skin under my hands.
She climbed onto the bed, the blanket sliding over her legs as she settled under it, turning off the bedside lamp with a flick of her wrist. The room plunged into darkness, leaving only the faint outline of her body under the covers.
But the image was burned into my mind—her snow-white skin, the way the black lace contrasted against it, the long, white legs that disappeared under the blanket, the graceful line of her neck, begging to be kissed, bitten, marked.
My cock stiffened, hard as steel, pulsing with need.
But then—
A sudden, sharp ringing pierced the silence.
Natalya’s voice sliced through the darkness—a guttural, venomous snarl: "Motherfucker!" The rustle of fabric followed, sharp and urgent, then a series of heavy thuds: Thump. Thump. Thump. Footsteps, fast and furious, stormed toward my door.
Before I could react, the door swung open, light flooding the room as Natalya stood in the doorway, her eyes blazing, her chest heaving with rage. "Viper," she barked, "let’s go. We’ve got things to do."
My cock twitched, still hard from the image of her naked body, but now she was fully dressed—jeans hugging her hips, a high-neck top clinging to her torso, a leather jacket zipped up over it, boots laced tight to her calves.
How the hell had she gotten dressed so fast? Fuck, I could still see the ghost of her body under those clothes, the way the fabric stretched over her ass, the way her breasts pressed against the leather.
I shoved the thoughts aside, forcing my mind to focus. "Yes, Boss," I said, my voice steady despite the pulse of need throbbing between my legs.
She didn’t notice—or if she did, she didn’t care. Her face was a mask of fury, her lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowed with something dangerous. "I said now," she snapped, already turning away, her boots clicking sharply against the floor.
I grabbed my long coat, yanking it on to hide the obvious bulge in my pants, following her out before she could notice. The cold air hit me as I stepped into the hallway, but it did nothing to cool the heat burning under my skin.
The car engine roared to life as I slid into the seat beside her. Natalya was already barking orders into her phone, her voice low, lethal, each word clipped with controlled rage. "Get the team ready," she growled, "we’re moving in ten."