VEN Page 9

  “Your brother is here,” I tell Vika, changing the subject.

  “Oh, I bet he is. The bastard,” she sneers, hurrying to the door and disappearing through it.

  Turning my attention back to Vas, I shake my head with disapproval. “Of all the women, Vas, why her?”

  He puts a finger to his lips and grins darkly. The glint in his eye is devilish. “To have eyes and ears everywhere. To have allies in high places. To play the game, my sweet sister. You, of all people, know how these games are played.”

  My heart skips. “Vika isn’t one to be played with. She’s more cunning than you or I.”

  “You let me worry about that. It was just me for a long time before the gift of sisters was bestowed upon me. Thank you for your concern, but trust me.” He once again presses a kiss to my cheek, and then, I’m alone. He’s right. I’m always worrying and looking out for my siblings, and look where that landed me.

  I walk over to the large mirror placed over a fireplace on the center wall and check my hair and makeup. I will not show Vlad weakness. He will see that I won’t be kept down for long, and when I’m back on top, it’s his business I’ll be coming for.

  The wedding ceremony is lengthy, and I find myself intoxicated by the scent of Ven who is sitting to my right, pushing his thigh against mine. Vlad is on the opposite side of the room and I’ve yet to cross paths with him since running away earlier. I’ve drank three glasses of champagne and a shot of something Rodion called rainbow vodka. My blood is flowing warm and my mind is a little fuzzy—just how I want it for having to sit through this charade.

  When the service is finally over, I stand with the rest of the guests to celebrate the union.

  Vika is either high again or the best actress in the world. She puts on a killer show.

  Smiling and touching Ruslan. Playing the loving wife for the crowd.

  They pass us, and Vika leans in to receive a kiss and hug from her new brother-in-law.

  “Congratulations,” I tell her.

  She squints her eyes up at me, then takes me in her arms, pulling me down to her height. “I made it further than you,” she whispers in my ear before releasing me. The little witch.

  Ven’s hand suddenly slips into mine, his fingers intertwining with my own. I look down at where we are joined, then up at him. He offers me a curved lip, and my hand tightens in his when Vlad clears his throat, announcing his arrival.

  “Vlad, finally bound by family. I always knew this would be our future. From being children, you were always like a brother of mine,” Ven tells him, offering his free hand in greeting.

  Vlad grasps it and shakes his hand. “Let us hope they don’t kill one another then.” Vlad doesn’t even look at me. Bastard. I want to claw at him and demand to know where Irina is, how she is. But Ven keeps me anchored to him. I just focus on him, on what he’s done for me.

  I will not give Vlad the satisfaction of seeing me falter once more. He took enough tears and pain from me. He will get no more. We are not made of those who have broken us, but of those who rebuilt us when we crumbled. I owe it to Ven to stand tall. To stand with him and be strong.

  A heavy hand comes down on my shoulder, and I startle slightly as I turn to see our newest visitor.

  “Time to get drunk.” Rodion waggles his perfectly groomed brows at me, and I couldn’t agree more.

  Drinks flow, speeches are read out, and kisses for the bride and groom are timed and celebrated. Vika is doing a fantastic job of making her happiness believable, and it’s no doubt due to the warning my father gave her before the wedding. He would not accept anything but a perfect performance from her today. His pride is everything to him, and with all our extended family in town just to see Ruslan marry after the tragedy of our losing Niko, excellence was demanded. There was no limit on expense. When the Vetrovs celebrate, we celebrate for days and everyone talks about it for months, if not years, later. Unlike with the birthday celebrations at the Vasiliev mansion, this will be talked about for the right reasons—not the slaughter of bodyguards.

  Diana’s red dress catches my eye, and I watch her ass sway as she dances with a couple children, each holding one of her hands. She will make a wonderful mother one day.

  “Veniamin, are you going to ever share that with us?” Rodion asks, placing a hand over my shoulder and following my stare.

  “No,” I grind out, chugging back the drink in my hand.

  Zahkar chuckles darkly. “Fair enough, cousin. Well, we would still like to talk with her. Talking is allowed, hmmm? We’re ready to move forward with our expansion plans and our new adventure with the rainbow vodka. Liquor is her expertise, no?” he asks.

  Yes. Yes it is. This is actually perfect. She’s been hungry to sink her teeth into a new venture.

  “Let me speak with her first,” I tell them. “And don’t mention it to anyone else for now.”

  They look between themselves, then back at me. “You have a deal.”

  My eyes track back to Diana, and my spine stiffens when my father approaches her. I see the minute she notices him. The glow fades from her cheeks, and her hands release the children and ball into fists. He bends forward, whispering something in her ear, and her jaw tightens in response.

  “Come,” I tell my cousins before making my way across the room toward Diana and her unwanted company. “Father,” I greet as I approach.

  He smirks at Diana before turning his attention to me. Diana exhales and offers me a tight smile.

  “Yuri is here, and I have the mules you requested in the viewing house out back,” I tell my father, distracting him from leering at the woman who doesn’t belong to him.

  The glint that lights his eyes at the prospect of women to torment is chilling. Slapping me on the back, he gestures with a crook of his fingers to a server. She hurries over and offers him a glass from the tray. He takes it, swigs back the liquor, then gestures for her to stay put. Rodion gives her an appraising look and licks his lips. He’s used to fucking the help. At his club, they all want to be fucked by him. My cousins have quite the reputation for pleasing women. Father finishes his drink, all the while staring at me like he’s testing my patience.

  “You’ll follow us,” he informs the maid once he puts his empty glass on her tray.

  She gulps and nods her head in agreement.

  “Let’s go see what you have for us, Veniamin.” He grins, taking lead.

  We follow behind him, leaving the noise of the party, to make our way down the stone path toward the back of the house.

  The viewing house is a short walk down the driveway at the back of the house, built separate to our living quarters, for business and privacy. We hold auctions here, and when it’s not being used for auctions, it’s used for pleasure at gatherings when the First Families come together and want to play.

  The crisp air nips at my face as we pour out into the driveway. There’s a new dusting of snow that crunches beneath our shoes. Rodion pulls a flask from his pocket. It’s solid gold and encrusted with diamonds forming the letter R.

  “You make that yourself?” I tease, condensation billowing from my lips.

  My father grunts. “It’s almost as pretty as you.”

  Rodion just grins at us and tips the container to his lips. “You’re all just jealous because I thought to bring something to warm the blood. It’s fucking freezing.”

  “It’s a two-minute walk. You’re Russian for fuck’s sake. Ice runs in our veins,” I mock, punching him in the arm, making him almost spill his drink.

  “Keep it up, motherfucker,” he warns.

  “Stop bickering like schoolgirls and pass me the fucking juice” Zahkar barks.

  We slow to a stop once we reach the rooms and I nod for them to go inside. “Enjoy yourselves. I have a few things to do back at the house,” I inform them. “Is Yuri already here?” my father asks, and I nod in confirmation. The thought of witnessing Yuri break in a female isn’t high on my fantasy list. Hunting down my red rose, however, is.
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br />   Rodion and Zahkar follow my father inside with smirks plastered on their faces. There are plenty of women to go around.

  I embrace the dark, frigid night as it wraps itself around me like a cold claw of death on the short walk back to the main house.

  Once I’m inside, I see the guests have gathered to send off Vika and Ruslan for their wedding photos, but Diana is nowhere to be found.

  I check her bedroom, then the study. Just as I turn to leave the room, I see a glimmer of red through the stacks of books on the shelves.

  “Are you hiding?” I croon out, and almost hear her heart pick up speed.

  “If I am, are you going to give chase?” she murmurs back, her eyes peering through a gap on the shelf.

  I tsk my tongue and shake my head. Instead of gaining on her, I pace the floor where I stand.

  Calm. Collected. Patient.

  “A good hunter doesn’t chase his prey,” I say, amusement in my tone. “A good hunter waits.”

  “For what?” she asks, appearing from behind one of the book stacks.

  “For the prey to come to him.” I lift a brow and grin.

  She bites her lip and seductively slides her hand down her arm as if she’s chilly and trying to warm her skin. “What if the prey doesn’t want to be preyed upon?” She takes a step toward me, her eyes undressing me and begging me to undress her at the same time.

  “A lion doesn’t ask permission to eat, Diana,” I growl, and her breath catches.

  The room is heating, and my cock is throbbing.

  “And what if the hunter becomes the prey?” she teases, taking another two steps toward me.

  I’ll let her play, but her mind is too pure to be the hunter. She has no idea what it’s like to be inside a savage mind.

  “Hunting is not a sport, moya roza. The prey doesn’t even know they’re in the game.”

  “This is true,” she replies, curling her arm behind her back and slowly lowering the zip to her dress.

  Motherfucker.

  The fabric creases and falls from her shoulders down her tits, torso, and hips before hitting the floor with an almost silent poof.

  She steps from the fabric, her heels high, showcasing the muscle definition in her toned, long legs.

  Lifting one of her legs and placing her foot on the arm of the armchair to my right, her pussy is on full display to my eyes. My mouth waters at the sight. She’s bare there, and has full lips, with a peekaboo clit tucked inside.

  She crooks her finger for me to come closer.

  I loosen my tie and drop to my knees in front of her, eager for a taste.

  “Who bows for who?” She smirks, running her hand through my hair, lightly scratching the scalp. She thinks she’s won, but she’s sorely mistaken.

  Placing my hand beneath her knee, I move her leg to rest over my shoulder, my lips breathing hot air against her pussy folds. Without even touching her, she groans. I press my mouth to her inner thigh and suck. The skin blooms with a deep purple bruise when I pull away on a pop. Fucking stunning.

  Her hands tighten in my hair. I palm her ass cheeks and lift her, moving to my feet and making her gasp. She clings to me, and I grin, walking her to a table against the back wall. I lay her down, forcing her to lie back, placing the heels of her stilettos on the edge.

  I push against her thighs, widening them, making her spread open for me so I can soak up and store the sight of her ruby, pink pussy opening up for me like a fresh blooming rose. Her chest rises and falls, making her fat tits jiggle. Her nipples are hard, and she’s a wet fucking dream straight out of a fantasy book.

  “Now who’s on their back for the hunter?” I ask, groaning.

  Her eyes flare in challenge, but she doesn’t make to get up.

  I pull a vial of cocaine from my pocket, popping the lid and tapping out a line just above her slit.

  “I can smell your scent, Diana. We are but animals. Tell me you want me to lick your pretty, tight pussy,” I demand, and her breathing hitches.

  “No.” She gulps.

  I lean down and snort the line of coke from her mound, knowing my beard will drag across her clit as I do. Pulling back, I lick my lips and stare down at her. Her fluids are coating the opening of her cunt, and it’s killing me not to fucking eat her alive, but I need her to ask for it, to fucking beg for it.

  “Ask me to slide my tongue in your pussy, Diana,” I say again.

  “No,” she replies, defiant.

  I unzip my slacks and pull my cock free. It’s heavy and thick and about to fucking burst if I don’t give it some relief. Her gaze darts to my movements, and she licks her lips, her hand moving down her torso. I slap her hand away so she can’t touch herself. Her skin ignites in a beautiful cerise color.

  I fist my cock and pump it with firm, slow movements as my eyes devour her puckered clit. Sliding two fingers down her crease, I gather her juices and slather my dick in her arousal, relishing the movements of her back arching from the table because of my touch.

  She fucking wants more.

  Needs it.

  “Ask me,” I demand, slapping the pads of my fingers against her clit. Firm and fast.

  “No,” she groans, her hips jolting forward.

  “Ask me,” I repeat, another two smacks, harder this time.

  “Oh God.”

  Her moans are music to my ears.

  “Just fucking ask me,” I almost beg, slapping again.

  Her body spasms and trembles. More fluids leak from her hole, and I am going to give in and ram my cock into her in a minute.

  “Please,” she finally pleads as I slap her clit again.

  “Please what, moya roza?”

  “Lick me, Ven. Fucking eat my pussy.”

  Yes, ma’am.

  I dive at her like a dying man getting his first taste of water after being stranded in a desert.

  My tongue plunders into her tight hole, seeking, punishing, and pleasuring all at once.

  I spread her open using my fingers and taste every inch of her, teasing and nipping at her clit. I eat her, hurried and messy. My saliva claiming her, marking her. She welcomes my tongue against her flesh, pushing her hips up and my head down with her hands in my hair. She moans so deep, it reverberates through her body into mine.

  With a pounding heart and a need to devour and conquer, I lick, eat, bite, and suck at her. I pick the vial up from the table and pour a tiny amount onto my fingers before dipping them into her mouth and letting her suck them clean. Pulling them free and lower them to her pussy, sinking them into her, one, then two, pushing past her folds, her vise-like walls consuming me. I pump my fingers hard and fast and curl them to stroke her little bundle of nerves, hitting the spot to send her spiraling. Her body tenses against me, her thighs clamping down against the side of my head, keeping me a willing prisoner. Her nails dig deep into my scalp, so I add to the intensity, using my flat tongue to press and writhe against her clit until her screams of pleasure shatter the air and echo around me, causing my dick to throb unbearably.

  Gushing juices push past my fingers and dribble down her ass crack. I swipe it all up, collecting every drop.

  She lifts her body from the table and reaches forward, wrapping her hands around my cock, like she needs to be touching me. Caressing, rubbing vigorously. Her small hands have to double up to get around my full girth. Her eyes are consumed with lust, her cheeks flushed. Her tits jiggle with her movements, and I palm them, squeezing as she tugs on my dick, her thumb swirling over the tip. Her breathing is rapid and in sync with my own.

  “Fuck,” she curses, pushing me away and sliding from the table onto her knees. I inhale, my eyes widening when she squeezes her tits together. Sensing what she wants, I step apart and bend my knees slightly so I can slap the top of her tits with my dick.

  Diana, laid out for me, is a sight to behold, but Diana on her fucking knees is something else entirely. Fuck, I’m going to blow my load before she even opens her mouth. Her plump red lips open and her wet, pin
k tongue flicks out, collecting the pre-cum from my tip.

  “Goddammit, woman,” I hiss.

  She pushes her tits against me, encasing my cock between them, and squeezes. Her lips close over the head of my cock, and pleasure rocks through me as she sucks, slurps, and devours.

  My hands grip her face as I watch mesmerized while she tit-fucks my cock. I’ve had women suck my cock many times, but none compare to this. To the red stains from Diana’s lipstick on my skin and my balls drawing in tight.

  “I’m going to come, moya roza,” I grunt in warning.

  She looks up at me through her dark, thick lashes and pumps her tits against the shaft harder. Her lips pull away, and I fucking come like a broken faucet, spurting all over her face, lips, and chin. She leans back so the white ribbon sprays her tits, her tongue out and begging for scraps.

  “Fuck, woman.”

  She wants it all, and damn it, I want to give it to her.

  I sit down in the chair and tug her into my lap. Our nakedness against each other feels so right. Stroking her hair while her hot breath tickles my neck is fucking heaven.

  I could do this all night.

  With my precious, dirty Diana.

  I wake with a pounding in my skull and my stomach roiling. And naked. Panic slices through me for a moment, until I remember the events that unfolded last night. I practically attacked Ven, and then he attacked me. With our mouths.

  My thighs clench at the reminder.

  I’m deliciously sore at the way his fingers probed me. At the way he slapped my clit and ate me out like I could have never imagined. It felt amazing, and now my flesh is raw from where his beard scratched me.

  I’d secretly hoped he’d take me to bed and finish our night right then, but instead, he pulled me into his arms and held me.

  My chest aches at the reminder.

  All sexual desire fell by the wayside as I clung to his body, hot tears barely contained in my eyes, wishing he could erase all the bad that had happened.

  In those moments, he did.

  He stroked my hair and whispered words not loud enough for my ears, but something I could feel down to my soul. Then, he wrapped his jacket around me and carried me to my room. I spent the night alone, although I wish he’d have stayed with me.