Page 6 of Viktor's Temptation
She lifted her blouse hesitantly, her breath catching as she stared down at the taut, ridged muscles of her abdomen. “What in the world?” she whispered, her hands trembling as she explored the contours of her new form.
The man chuckled softly, his deep voice filled with amusement. Gracie looked up sharply, her cheeks flushing as she realized how intently he was watching her.
“You’ve changed,” he said smoothly, his grey eyes sparkling with mischief. “Feel free to strip entirely if you’d like a closer look.”
Her mouth went dry at his words, and for a moment, she was unable to look away from him. That smile—so sharp and confident—made him almost unnervingly beautiful. His features were already striking, but the warmth of his grin transformed him into something otherworldly.
Gracie dropped the hem of her blouse, her hands instinctively moving to her hips, where she realized her jeans were slipping down. She gasped softly, her fingers trailing over her thighs, now firm and sleek. When she walked, her thighs didn’t rub together anymore. Her previously too-tight jeans now hung awkwardly around her surprisingly narrow waist.
“Your transition suits you,” he commented, leaning back as if to better enjoy the view of her bewildered self-exploration.
“Transition?” she repeated, the word unfamiliar and strange on her tongue.
“Yes,” he said, his tone calm but laced with amusement. “When did it happen?”
Gracie’s brow furrowed as confusion warred with fascination. Transition? What was he talking about? Her hands drifted again, this time to her backside, which felt… different. Firmer, rounder. She jolted when she realized she was cupping her own butt and quickly dropped her hands, her cheeks burning.
“I…” she started, only to trail off. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from him. He exuded authority, confidence, andsomething else she couldn’t quite name—something magnetic that drew her closer even as she tried to maintain her distance.
“My name is Gracie,” she said, trying to regain some composure. “Gracie Andrews.”
“Gracie,” he repeated, his voice wrapping around the name like a caress. His gaze lingered, piercing and steady, and she felt as though he could see straight through her.
Gracie’s thoughts raced. The impossible strength, the transformation of her body, the undeniable hunger for blood—it all pointed to something she didn’t want to acknowledge. But the way he was looking at her, as though her very existence fascinated him, only deepened her confusion.
“I don’t understand,” she finally admitted, her voice small. “What happened to me?”
The man’s expression softened, though his commanding presence remained. “You’ve been transitioned, Gracie. And now, we have much to discuss.”
Chapter 5
Gracie blinked, surprised even by the sensation of her eyelids closing. Everything felt… different. Sharper. Clearer. Her gaze fixed on the man in front of her, narrowing slightly as if she could pierce through him with just her sight.
Where are my glasses?she wondered. She’d worn glasses or contact lenses her whole life. But now, staring at the man’s face, it was as if her vision had been upgraded to high definition. Every whisker on his jawline was distinct, the faint silver flecks in his grey eyes glinting under the light. She hadn’t noticed before, but his jaw was rougher than the rest of his otherwise impossibly smooth features. The rugged edge fascinated her.
“Gracie?”
His deep voice startled her, and she jerked her focus away from his jaw, realizing she’d been staring too intently. What had he just asked? Something about… a transition?
“What transition?” she asked, her confusion thickening as she glanced down at herself. Her breath caught in her throat.
Her hands lifted almost involuntarily, palms hovering over her chest. Her breasts, once a source of quiet disdain for their lackluster appearance, were now full and perfectly perky. She didn’t need to check a mirror to know that her body had transformed into something… different. Stunning, even.
It was strange, though. She’d never thought about her figure much before, except when her ex-fiancé, Warren, had made his crude comments. He’d been obsessed with her breasts,touching them constantly in a way that made her cringe. She’d tolerated it, endured it, just to get through their mechanical bouts of intimacy.
Warren. Her stomach churned at the memory. Nine minutes of uncomfortable sex followed by a half-hearted snuggle if he felt generous. For a time, she’d convinced herself those fleeting moments of affection were worth the discomfort, but now…what had I been thinking?
“Gracie?”
The man’s voice interrupted her thoughts again, pulling her back into the present. She licked her lips nervously, refusing to look at the bag of blood still sitting on the table.
“I don’t know what transition you’re talking about,” she mumbled, lifting a hand to touch her cheek. She winced at the thought of the bruise Warren had left there. The memory of his rage sent a shiver through her, and instinctively, she glanced toward the man.
“I’m sure I look a fright,” she said hastily, glancing around for her purse. “I need makeup.” She wanted to cover the bruise before he saw it, though she had no idea how long ago she’d applied her last layer.
The man’s voice softened but carried a weight that demanded her attention. “You are lovely, my dear.”
Gracie froze as he stood, his movements fluid and controlled, yet his sheer size sent a flicker of fear through her. Memories of Warren’s outbursts flooded her mind. Viktor’s broad shoulders and imposing frame made him seem even moredangerous. What if he wasn’t as kind as he seemed? She had a terrible history of misjudging men.
