I need a guard at this door to stop just anyone from walking in here.
Fucking Vika. Why does she insist on grating my last nerve? Doesn’t she have Ruslan for that?
“So, you get two for one, I see,” Vika snaps as she waltzes into my office. She narrows those golden, familiar eyes on me, and I try not to suffocate on her cloyingly sweet stench swirling into my office along with her.
It hurts to look at her sometimes. She has so many of Viktor’s features.
“Vika, what an unpleasant surprise.”
“Your little pet is making herself quite at home,” she continues, ignoring my jab.
“If you’re referring to my fiancée, I’d tread carefully. She has more rights here now than you.”
“Not Diana,” she sneers. “The other one. The little shadow.”
Irina.
“They come as a packaged deal. What business is it of yours?” I mock, relaxing back in my chair and busying myself with my cell phone.
“Rus told me what I was traded for. Land, Vlad? Seriously, is that all I’m worth to Father?”
Placing my cell down on the desk, I look up at her, searching her eyes for the little girl I once knew. She was extinguished long ago. Instead, this entity stands here with her eyes.
“Less,” I taunt. “I bargained for more, not because I believe you’re worth more, but because I can. You are just a puppet, and I’m the master holding the strings. Stop fighting the inevitable, Vika.”
“And what is that, dear brat?”
“Retribution. For me, for Niko, for Viktor.”
“Sdelay eto svoim metodom, brat.” Have it your way, brother.
She leaves my office like a storm, tearing through it and knocking over decorations as she goes.
I pick my cell phone back up and continue to scan through the pictures sent to me on a secure server. We have our whores who will be trained in seduction, but The Games are all about the chase. The depravities that lie within us all. Young women, innocent and frightened, are one of the mass appeals for The V Games, and that’s something you can’t train into someone. These women come at a cost and via special selection. Plucked from their lives and forced into a nightmare.
The faces looking back at me through the screen are that of girls living their life. They have no idea they won’t be making it home today if I approve it.
Vika’s words regarding Irina play in my mind and I find myself leaving my office and taking the stairs to see how her studio is coming along. The designer arrived an hour ago to assess the room and draw up a plan. Diana mentioned she was going to the Volkov estate for the afternoon. Maybe Irina has gone with her.
The room is so close to mine, if both our doors are left open, I can see straight into the studio. I want to see all her colors displayed through her art. It will be something for me—a wedding gift, if you will.
If I can’t have her, I’ll just admire from afar.
And no one will have her.
“Mr. Vasiliev, I was just finishing up and coming to find you.” The tall blonde woman, Marina, was the one who designed most of the rooms within this house. She was my first call after Irina’s request.
“I’ve saved you the trouble.” I offer her a tight smile and take the plans she’s drawn up from her hand.
“It’s a perfect space, and the light really works well for the intended use.”
“I’ll look this over and let you know of any changes. I want this started today,” I inform her.
Marina’s eyes widen, but she nods enthusiastically. “Of course. I’ll make some calls.”
As I reach the top of the stairs to head down to my office, voices sound from below, stopping me as I listen. Diana hasn’t left yet.
“I’ll be back for dinner, okay?”
“Go find out what’s going on.”
Pause.
“You’re sure you don’t mind Anton driving me?”
“I’ll be fine, Diana, go.”
The door closes, and I look down to see my little sun blowing a strand of hair from her face.
“Irina,” I bark.
Her frame jolts and her icy blue eyes lift, colliding with mine.
“Come here,” I demand.
She purses her lips like she’s fighting to keep words from spilling free, then moves to obey. Good girl. She takes her time climbing the stairs, dragging her hand along the railing as she almost sways toward me.
“Vlad,” she greets. Her voice is warm, and I want to tell her to stop…just stop being her.
“Your bedroom has been moved.”
It’s spontaneous and out of my mouth before the thought has even manifested fully in my mind. Just looking at her and thinking of last night, I need her closer. To make sure no one else thinks they can creep up to her room with her.
“Wh-What?” she stutters. “But Anton—”
I hold my hand up to cut her off. “Anton was too busy being your sister’s lapdog to even notice you’d disappeared to your room with Artur Voskoboynikov. If I hadn’t intervened when I did, you would have been birthing his child nine months from now.” There’s rage in my tone. The friction of my emotions is starting to chafe causing a crack in my demeanor.
Her mouth drops open, forming a small O. The rush of red blossoming over the pale of her cheeks reminds me of when she came undone from my simple contact last night.
So precious. So pure. So mine.
“Thank you,” she breathes, taking me aback.
Thank you?
“I shouldn’t have drank so much wine. It doesn’t agree with me. I’m so terribly embarrassed at my behavior. I don’t even remember that happening.”
She wraps an arm across her waist and twists at her earlobe with the other hand—a nervous habit I’ve come to adore.
“Come to my office.” I change the subject. She doesn’t remember last night. Doesn’t remember me cutting away her dress and bringing her over the edge of bliss with just a press of my crotch to hers. Probably better that way.
“You called me up here to tell me to come downstairs?”
The coy little girl has left, and the spunky Irina is back in her rightful shoes.
I want to force her to hold the railings with both hands and bend over so I can smack her tight ass until it burns crimson under my palm. Then I’d use my tie around her neck as a harness while I entered her raw and hard. She’d want to scream out in pleasure, but my hands tightening the fabric would restrict her. People would come and go through the front door, unbeknownst to them that the sweet little virgin sister of my bride-to-be was being schooled on who owns her.
I’ll take, take, take from her until her legs give out.
Take her purity, her ripe, cerise cherry, her voice, her orgasms, her heart, her fucking soul. All for my own.
“Vlad?” She bites her bottom lip, and I snap out of the fantasy, sending me into a lust-filled haze. “Why do you look at me like that?” Her voice is a curious whisper, speaking straight to my cock.
“Like what?” I rasp.
Her chest lifts with a deep intake of air. “Like you’re hungry and I’m a cake.”
A genuine smile lifts the corners of my mouth. Real. What a perfect analogy. I bet she will taste sweet too, like cherry frosting.
“Because you look at me like you want to be tasted,” I reply, bringing the pad of my thumb to her lips and stroking across them. All the black, damaged evil inside me dilutes when I’m touching her—the sun casting out the darkness inside me.
I expect her to pull away, as she should, but she doesn’t. Instead, she wraps her hands around mine and opens her mouth, sliding my thumb inside. Her mouth hot, soft, and wet, sucks as her eyes close and she sighs.
“Mr. Vasiliev, good, you’re still here,” Marina calls from behind me.
Irina’s eyes spring open and she removes me from her mouth. Dropping her hands, she turns to jog down the stairs.
“What?” I bark, turning my glare on the woman.
Marina’s feet falter and she turns white. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to inform you that I have movers coming in to clear the space ready for decorating tomorrow.”
“Good.” That’s all she gets for interrupting the delicious moment with my little addiction. I stalk away from her toward my office. Once I step inside, I call Danill, my acquirer of the female cargo specially selected.
“Da.” Yes.
“Ya vozmu ix vsex.” I’ll take them all. I end the call without waiting for a reply. Who I don’t put in The Games, I’ll sell to someone else. I already have buyers in mind.
“More women?” Irina inquires from the corner of the room, startling me.
If my father knew she was involved with any business in the Vasiliev empire, he would order me to put her in her place. On her knees. And anyone else, I’d agree with him.
But she’s not just anyone.
She’s holding a picture, tracing the image with her finger. She doesn’t press me when I ignore her question. “No one speaks about him,” she says, getting to her feet and walking over to one of the bookshelves. She places the frame down, and it’s then I notice which one. A picture of Viktor and I a year ago, at his graduation. The pit opens in my stomach and I will it to close.
Goddammit, I miss him.
“It’s still raw for some of us.” My words are cold despite the gaping wound in my chest.
“Vika lost two people that day,” she muses, looking at other pictures displayed around the office.
“We lost two people that day.”
She looks over at me. “I’m sorry. I forgot how close you and Niko were.”
I don’t want to talk about this. I can’t. “Here,” I tell her, holding out the designs for her studio.
She takes cautious steps toward my outstretched hand and lifts the paper from me. Her sparkling blue eyes skim it, and then lift to mine, a smile spreading across her pretty face.
“A studio?” she asks in astonishment.
If I’d known it would illicit such a breathtaking smile, I would have had a thousand studios made for her.
“Vlad,” she cries out, a joyful squeal erupting from her as she jumps toward me. I have no choice but to catch her. Her small frame molds to mine like she was created to fit there. Her hair tickles my cheek and jawline, and the scent explodes into my senses.
Honeysuckle.
Sliding down my body and standing on her feet, she looks up at me though her lashes. “Thank you.”
Her lips draw me in, and I can’t think straight. All I see, hear, smell, is her.
Dammit.
“I’m going to kiss you,” I tell her, my voice matter of fact.
I’m going to ruin everything.
I’m going to ruin her.
Her eyes widen. “You’re marrying Diana.”
“I know,” I grit out, frustration in my tone. “But just this once. Just one kiss.” I say it more to me than her.
She bites on her plump bottom lip and I’m desperate to bite it too. This ordinary girl does extraordinary things to me.
“I can’t Vlad,” she breathes, a small pout in her tone. “She’s my sister. It’s so wrong.” Clearly, she misunderstood me. I wasn’t asking her.
“Then say no.” I challenge her with a glare. For a moment, I think she’ll relent. Her lips part, but then she blinks away her daze.
“No.” She lowers her eyes. I grasp the back of her neck and tug her body into mine, loving the way her pert tits press against my firm chest. Clutching her jaw with my other hand, I tilt her head back so she’s forced to look at me. Forced to breathe me. “Vlad,” she pleads, but it’s weak. The blueprints she was holding flutter to the floor at our feet.
Little Irina is anything but weak.
However, I love the idea of overpowering her and bending her to my will.
“Tell me no,” I say again, my voice a low, threatening growl.
“No!”
But her body language and eyes scream yes.
She would never willingly betray her sister.
Good thing I have no such loyalty.
I crush my lips to hers, craving her taste more than any fancy scotch or vodka from my expensive stash. I want to taste every delicious inch of her. Her lips are soft and pliable. I easily urge them open with my tongue and invade her mouth. She does taste sweet, like vanilla essence. Her tiny fists pound at my shoulders, but her lips dance with mine. Desperately. Eagerly. Dangerously. Once she realizes she’s a victim of my kiss and I’m not letting her go, her body softens against me. I nip, suck, and plunder her mouth, taking my fill.
Goddamn, she tastes like perfection.
I pull away, much to my cock’s horror. I could spend hours kissing her sweet, pouty mouth that tastes like sin delivered straight from heaven. An unearthly, divine concoction. She’s a meal fit for a king, and I want to devour her.
Our eyes meet for a moment. Hers are glazed over with lust, but she quickly shakes away her daze before glowering at me and muttering a string of Russian curse words. She’s unsteady on her feet as she pulls away, but finds her equilibrium and darts out of my office like the devil is chasing her.
I’m the devil all right.
And I want to chase her, but if I do, I won’t stop with her lips.
I’ll devour all of her.