VLAD (The V Games #1)(16)
She pulls back and grins. “But with tongue,” she jests, flicking her tongue out to lick the tip of my nose. I screech, and she begins to attack my face, licking my cheek and forehead.
This is the sister I’ve loved and missed.
Lately, she’s been one of them, but right now…right now, she’s just Diana.
“Stop it! Stop it!” I cry out, laughing.
She pins my arms so I can’t stop her, and when she eventually ceases her attack, she looks down at me, her brows tugging down and eyes focused and serious. “I’ll always be your big sister,” she vows. “I’ll always do right by you. I promise, this marriage doesn’t change us.”
I want her words to be true so deeply, but my own heart is wilting, and she doesn’t see that I’m dying inside. Being around him will be brutal.
But being around my sister?
Definitely worth the pain.
“Okay, I’ll come with you,” I whisper.
She beams her megawatt smile at me and jumps up from the bed. “Get some sleep, little shadow. We have a big task ahead of us.”
Yes, we do.
Tonight was a mess. First, the idiot at the restaurant who caused all kinds of honor codes to be broken, then I had to take Diana home only to find myself in a situation with Irina that tested my limits.
Her nightgown barely covered her, and she was so unaware of her own beauty on display for all to see. It was infuriating and tempting. Way too goddamn tempting. I’ve never struggled to keep my guard up before—to keep my indifference forced on my features.
She can’t know she affects me in any way.
No one can.
Diana especially can’t know I desire her sister in ways I may never desire her. It would only cause strife. She can’t know that, to me, she’s the shadow. And although she’s my match, her little sister will always hold something I will never give to her or any other.
Solntce moyo…how brightly you shine.
When she finally left to go back to her room, I discreetly adjusted myself and took my rightful place next to Diana. Then, when the opportunity arose, I dragged her away from her father and made my excuses to leave.
Now, I’m standing here with images of Irina plaguing me as I look at Diana’s full lips. They’re so much like her sister’s, only they turn down slightly where Irina’s turn up. This…this right here, can’t happen. Comparing them and thinking about Irina when I look at Diana. Thinking of the way the swell of her tits heaved in rhythmic pounds to my own heartbeat when we were so close.
Dammit.
Reaching my hands up to cup Diana’s face, I crash my lips to hers. Hard, deep, brutal. I part her lips with a swipe of my tongue. She tastes of the red wine she’s been drinking and it’s nice. Her lips move against mine with ease. I’m most certainly not her first kiss.
She’s definitely not mine.
When I pull away, her eyes are glassy, and for once, she’s not so put together. Her lips are swollen, and her red lipstick is slightly smeared around her mouth.
“Goodnight, fiancée,” I utter, testing the word.
“Goodnight,” she mumbles, then pales when her father and his number two, Anton, come walking toward us. They may have seen our little show, but she’s rightfully mine now. I wasn’t groping her like two teenagers at prom. I reach for her hand and give it a reassuring squeeze.
Then, I take my leave.
When I arrive home, the house is quiet. A twinge tightens my stomach when I pass the game room and Viktor’s laughter doesn’t trickle out through the doors. It’s been two months now, but missing him hasn’t gotten easier. My feet falter when I reach the kitchen and find the servant placing a sandwich in front of Veniamin Vetrov.
Why the hell is he here?
My interest is piqued as I open the fridge and pull out two bottles of beer. I’m not usually a beer drinker, but with Ven, I don’t feel the need for pretenses. He and I go way back. I can relax a little and just be me—the me underneath the power suit.
“Hungry?” I raise a brow and hand him a bottle.
Ven can be intimidating to most. He has the Vetrov wildness about him. Bearded and seemingly unkempt. Barely contained beneath an expensive Armani suit and twelve-hundred-dollar Italian leather shoes. I remember teenage Ven, when we were younger, running through the woods in the snow. Older and fiercer than any of the other boys, including myself. Ven was the only stupid one to run through the snow without a shirt on. As if that made him more of a badass. Back then, he was virtually hairless like the rest of us. Now, his beard and unruly hair match that wild kid I remember. His father may force him into a suit and instill manners on him, but Ven is still the ruthless vulture his family crest states.
He takes it with an impish grin, his tattooed fingers curling around the neck of the bottle. It makes me wonder what old man Vetrov thinks about his eldest son’s tattoos. My own father hates mine, which is why I try to keep them hidden beneath my suit. Ven wears his on display for all to see. “Didn’t get to finish my dinner.”
Ahhh, of course not.
Diana’s little murder ruined more than just my night it would appear.
“How is she?” He’s referring to Diana. Like myself, he’s known her since we were children, and if I remember correctly, used to tease Niko about his crush on her.