Victor really tried to pull away.
His first movement was instinctive, almost automatic, his hand rising to Natasha's shoulder with the clear intention of pushing, of creating at least a few centimeters of space between them. But it didn't work. Not because he lacked strength, but because there simply wasn't room to push. She was clinging to him in an absurd way, her arms locked around his torso as if they were part of his very body structure.
He pushed harder.
Nothing.
Natasha not only didn't let go, but reacted to his movement in a completely unexpected way. Instead of resisting rigidly, she adjusted even more, her body molding to his with a disconcerting naturalness, as if that proximity was exactly where she should be.
"—Okay, no, wait a minute," murmured Victor, now clearly more alert, trying to understand what was happening as he leaned slightly back, searching for an angle that would make it easier to get her off him.
It didn't help.
On the contrary.
