quietly, taking a seat in the large armchair near the fireplace. She brings her bare legs up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. Her chin sits atop her knees.
“About the hospital…” she starts.
I turn to her. “What about it?”
“It’s just … I didn’t expect that.”
“Did you not like it?” Feeling her writhe beneath me was evidence enough that she liked it. I might even venture to say she loved it.
“No, I did.” She’s quiet for a moment, and when she speaks again, there’s a softness to her voice, like she’s speaking to a wild animal. “It was… a bad idea.”
I turn to fix her with my stare. “A bad idea?” I repeat.
She’s wavering as I look at her. I stand slowly, unfolding myself to my full height, and cross the distance between us to tower over her. Reaching out a hand, I cup her delicate chin.
“Look at me,” I order. I force her face to tilt upwards. Her bottom lip is quivering and her eyes are full of emotion. As I watch, she swallows past a knot in her throat.
“Something tells me you don’t think it was a bad idea at all, sweetheart.” My whisper is low and coarse, the only thing that can be heard above the crackling of the fire. You could slice the tension with a knife. It’s damn near suffocating, how bad I want her. How bad she wants me.
I know that all I have to do is turn the fingers on her chin into the slightest of caresses and she’d be putty in my finger. Slide the tip of my thumb between those plump lips. She’d melt. It would be so easy.
Just do it… whispers a voice in my head. Take her again. Own her like you want to.
I can barely hear her as she tries desperately to say something, anything. “I…” But she can’t even finish that. It’s too late for words. I know it; she knows it.
It’s like an electric volt is surging right to my cock, all the filthy images racing through my mind. I want nothing more than to continue this.
But I can’t.
Crossing that line with Victoria is a bad idea, and I know it. I just wish that it wasn’t so obvious.
My phone rings, the answer to my prayers, bailing me out of this tension-filled moment. I slip a hand into my pocket to grab it. Disappointment crosses Victoria’s face, and she turns her head, staring at the flames licking the stone fireplace that contains them.
I turn away and bring the phone to my ear.
“Konstantin,” I say. “Talk to me.”
This is the out I needed. Being around Victoria like this is dangerous, and I have to maintain control. I have to keep control, no matter the cost.
Losing it could be deadly.
17
Victoria
I haven’t seen Matvei this much since I started working at the mansion, but for the past few days, he’s been so much more present than before.
At first, it’s a little unnerving to see him around every morning. My gut reaction is that something is wrong. The last time he was around for breakfast with Nikolas and me was when Dad was tied up in the safe room.
Strangely enough, though, all Matvei does is eat with us and talk to Nikolas about his day and what he’s looking forward to doing. It’s almost endearing to see him treat the boy like a little adult. He doesn’t baby him or talk to him with the kind of softness I do, but Nikolas doesn’t seem to mind. He even manages to make Matvei laugh now and then, which is a miracle and a half for several reasons.
That man’s laugh is something I never thought I’d hear, but I enjoy it every time it happens.
This morning, when he strides into the kitchen in a gorgeous, well-fitted suit, he has a box of donuts in his hands. Nikolas’ eyes light up instantly.
Without a word, he runs to the table and takes a seat, tenting his hands neatly in front of him.
Matvei looks to me. “Nikolas told me he’s tired of oatmeal,” he says with a shrug.
I have to give it to him. He does seem to know exactly what to do to make the boy happy, even if he doesn’t get all touchy-feely and emotional like me.
It makes me uncomfortable sitting around the house all day, doing nothing, so after breakfast, I decide to be helpful around the house, washing some dishes with a plastic glove over my burned hand.