VLAD (The V Games #1)(29)
I look down at the card I slipped from Diana’s hand and rub my thumb over Artur’s number. Then I rip the card into pieces.
When I get back to the dining room, everyone has left. All but Ven, Rus, and Vika. Ven is typing on his cell phone while Vika talks animatedly to him. He’s not listening and it’s pitiful. Quite laughable, in fact. Rus’s eyes bore into her, but she’s too self-centered to even notice she’s upsetting her husband-to-be. Not that she’ll care either way.
“Vika!” I bark.
Annoyance ignites in her amber eyes at my presence. She swivels her head in my direction, then sits back in her chair, folding her arms over her chest like a petulant child. Her tits bulge out the top of her dress for all to see. Images of her as a small child chasing after Viktor replay in my mind, but diminish as quickly as they came.
She’s not that girl anymore and Viktor is gone.
“Join me for a night cap,” I tell her. It’s not a request, it’s a damn order, and she knows it. She’s not married yet. Her huff is audible, as is the chair scraping across the floor.
Her heels click-clocking across the hardwood floors alert me to her following my order. I walk to my office. It’s the only place that, until this afternoon when Irina invaded the space, was private and just for me.
“What do you want, Vlad? I know this isn’t pleasantries.” She brushes her hand over one of the tall bookshelves adorning the back wall. Her nose turns up as she pretends to wipe dust from her hand. “This place is really going downhill. You should hire some help who knows how to actually clean and not just polish cock.”
“Your vulgar mouth is still intact I see,” I sneer, taking a seat behind my desk.
She makes a humph sound before crossing her arms and waltzing over to my desk, ignoring the chair situated opposite it. She sits on the corner instead, knocking over a pen holder with a clatter. “Did you think sending me over there would somehow tame me, brat?”
My skin feels too tight over my bones. There’s a dull ache throbbing at my temples. I’m done with this day. I cast a glance over her attire and answer her question.
“I know it hasn’t stopped you from flaunting yourself all over Veniamin like one of Father’s prized whores.”
Her eyes narrow and her lips twist up at the corners. “Jealous?”
Jealous? What a ludicrous thing to say.
“Of my sister? Doubtful. You know better than that, Vika.” I almost chuckle, but that would be a reward for her. She doesn’t deserve a reaction of any kind.
There’s a devious glint in her eye as she leans over my desk and whispers, “Not of me. Of him. He does appear to get all the girls.”
I’m not sure what game she’s trying to play, or what she’s implying. Veniamin is a good-looking man who has never struggled to find bed partners. This isn’t news to me, and I certainly don’t care. We’ve shared many dirty games ourselves. “Is there something you’re trying to tell me and failing miserably at, Sister?”
“I’m just saying Ven has an appeal even the prim of us can’t deny. Why don’t you ask your fiancée what she thinks?” With that, she smirks and gets to her feet before striding out of my office like she owns the place.
What the hell did she mean by that? I refuse to let her rile me up. It’s what she intends, and I’m not that easily played. I will ask Diana what she meant by her words and she will tell me. It’s Vika being Vika. Ven would have mentioned if Diana had made any passes at him. Wouldn’t he?
Tapping into the monitors of Diana’s bedroom, I see her bed rumpled and the sound of her shower blasting. My finger hovers over the feed for Irina’s room and my head swarms with a thousand bees. She evokes such a response in me, I don’t even think she’s human. How can she have such power over me?
My finger clicks on the feed, and her room expands, filling the screen. She’s sprawled over the bed, her dress discarded in strands on the floor, and she’s still in her panties, bra, stockings, and high heels. What a vision she is. Her blonde locks fan out around her like a halo, but she’s no angel. She’s a seducer, a succubus waiting to pounce and suck out all my willpower. Slipping my cock from slacks, I rub the liquid building on the tip with the pad of my thumb. I want to use my teeth on her, mark her skin, cause blemishes to raise and sting. My handprints will look wonderful on her precious, virgin skin. I hope she’s a moaner. I’ll torment her body, drive her to the brink of euphoria and drag her back screaming and pleading for more. My tongue will taste every inch of her, plundering into her tight little hole and stretching her. Her groans will shatter into wails of ecstasy.
Squeezing my shaft to almost the point of pain, I release it and stuff it back into my slacks. I have a fiancée for this shit. Getting to my feet, I march up the stairs and slip into Diana’s room. The shower is still blasting, but turns off a few seconds later. Her movements sound through the open door, but I don’t push it open to catch a glimpse.
She will show me everything in time.
What a good little wife she will be.
I rap my knuckles on the bathroom door and hear her sigh. “I thought you were mad at me…” she stutters the last words when she sees me standing there.
“Why would I be mad?”
She blinks a couple times, then shrugs her petite shoulders. Water pebbles over her tanned flesh. She’s darker skinned than Irina. It’s not sun exposure, it’s natural. Irina is like a porcelain doll, precious and not to be played with.