VLAD (The V Games #1)(42)

Oh, do I know…

“Sounds interesting,” I murmur.

“It hurts at first,” she tells me, her brows furling. “My first time, I cried. A lot.” She shudders, and for a brief moment, my sister looks haggard. Broken and depressed. I hate the look on her. This is not my Diana. “But you grow to love it. It’s like they get inside your mind and live there. They say all the right things that sing to your heart.” She sighs. “Love is painful sometimes.”

“Diana,” I start, but the words fall short. “I just want you to be happy.”

Her nostrils flare, and she frowns. “Happiness isn’t with Vlad Vasiliev. I knew this when I agreed to marry him.” I note the bitterness in her tone. It’s so strange to me because I feel the opposite. Last night, Vlad uncovered a new part of me. Those hours after we had sex and I painted him, I felt closer to him than I ever felt toward anyone. Even Diana.

“I think happiness can be found with Vlad,” I murmur, my words more for me than her.

“You’ve much to learn, Shadow.” She kisses me on the head and starts for the door. “I want to meet later. We have to make a new game plan now that Father has made a mess of things.”

“Of course. We’ll figure it out,” I assure her.

She smiles, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, and then she’s gone. As soon as she leaves, I walk into the bathroom and look at my reflection. I’m a terrible person. Lying to my sister. Fucking her fiancé behind her back. Ugh. I peel off my tank top. Maybe a shower will cleanse away this dirty feeling. When I notice the paint across my abdomen, I gasp.

Mine.

Black paint.

Neat, precise writing.

I run my fingers across the letters and can’t fight the smile on my lips. This game Vlad and I are playing…I like it. I like it a lot.

Unlike at the recent V Games, I just hope a Volkov doesn’t lose to a Vasiliev.

Something tells me silly, hopeful girls shouldn’t be playing with violent, masterful men.

Perhaps in some games there are two winners…

I clench my thighs and wince at the lingering pain.

Perhaps not.




There’s a different atmosphere around here today. But I’m not sure if it’s just that I feel different—more like a woman, yet the giddy feeling of being a girl as well. It’s different. I walk into the kitchen to find Vika and Vlad in a heated discussion. Diana is standing close by with her arms folded across her chest and a look of annoyance on her pretty pursed lips.

“What’s going on?” I ask her in a hushed tone, budging up next to her.

“Vika being a petulant child as usual,” she hisses.

I drag my eyes back over to the two of them. Vlad’s pulse ticks in his neck and his jaw is clenched. His eyes are fire and brimstone as he peers down at his sister. She appears to realize she’s poking a tiger in his own cage and deflates.

“Fine,” she concedes with an exasperated huff. “I’ll go. Diana can accompany me.” She turns her sickly smile in our direction, and Diana smiles tightly back at her. “We are going to be sisters, after all.”

“Of course, I’d love to help pick out your dress,” Diana says sweetly. “Maybe I can shop for my own while we’re there.”

Images of Diana wearing a wedding dress standing beside Vlad conjure up in my mind and I wilt inside. A dying flower starved of light. She will be a beautiful bride.

“It’s a long trip, so pack an overnight bag,” Vika tells Diana on her way out of the kitchen, tossing her scarf over her shoulder and whipping me in the face with it. Bitch.

“Perfect,” Diana huffs out, following Vika’s exit.

I watch the door close softly behind her, then turn my gaze on Vlad, who is staring back at me, a fierce hunger in his eyes.

We’re alone.

Being alone with him makes my skin heat and my body burn from the inside out.

“How did you sleep?” he asks, the rasp in his throat signaling the equal effect I have on him. My head swims and heat spreads throughout my stomach, pooling in my core.

“Fine, thank you,” I squeak out, my nerves rattling me. “Sheesh, I’m starving. Would you like some breakfast? Can I fix you something?” I escape his nearness and hurry over to the fridge. My legs feel heavy, like I’m dragging lead weights across the room.

His shoes squeak across the tile behind me, signaling his approach. “It’s noon, Irina,” he says lowly, a husky growl rumbling through him. “But yes, I could eat.” With that, he blocks the way between me and the refrigerator, grasps me under the arms, and sits me on the edge of the counter.

“Vlad!” I whisper-yell, placing my hands on his shoulders to push him away. His strength is no match for me. He forces my legs to part and wedges himself between them. “Diana could come back!” I say desperately.

Ignoring my worry, he slaps the counter on either side of my legs. “Lie back,” he instructs. When I gape at him, he pushes my dress up my thighs and starts tugging down my panties. Wearing dresses has never been my thing, but I must say, they’ve been awfully convenient lately. I take back everything negative I ever thought about them.

My heart hammers inside my chest and my head swims with need, fear, and excitement all rolled into one. He lifts my feet and places them on the edge of the counter, opening me up for his eyes to devour. My panties get shoved into his pocket for safekeeping. Embarrassment washes through me, but it’s replaced with a groan when he dips his head and kisses me between my thighs. I gasp and collapse back onto the counter, the cold surface penetrating my fevered flesh through the fabric of my dress.