11. Valerian
VALERIAN
She must think she’s safe on the other side of that door.
She’s wrong.
I heard that little moan slip from her mouth. I know exactly what she was doing in there. And I can’t wait to have some fun with that and let her know.
Because I really do know everything.
Once again, she underestimates me.
She strolls into the dining room wearing a full-length nightgown.
I can smell the wetness between her thighs. Such a beautiful scent. Like honey mixed with something darker. Something much closer to the earth, the scent rawer and more natural. It’s unique to her.
I pour wine from the diamond decanter and take a sip.
Did I finally find something that tastes better than vintage Merlot?
“Evening, sweetheart.”
Joy pulls out a chair, the legs scraping against the polished floor as she makes herself comfortable at the other end of the table.
It’s a long table. Seats twelve.
The maid and butler join us, taking food from the platters, eating in silence. They never fail to disappoint when it comes to making dinner.
I reach over, stab my fork into a piece of steak. “So, Joy,” I begin. “What have you been doing with yourself today?”
“Nothing much,” she mumbles, keeping her eyes low and her jaw tense.
I zero in on her hands, wondering which fingers she had inside of herself.
I’m glad I interrupted her when I did.
For turning up late yesterday, she’s not allowed to make herself come.
“What about you?” She deflects the question back at me. “What have you been doing today?”
“Oh, just the usual,” I say, cutting into the steak, chewing. “We had a body to get rid of from last night. And then I had some properties to sign off on.” I drink more wine. “I’m still waiting for Igor to kick up a fuss. He must be working on the offshore accounts, still trying to settle things.”
Joy glances up from her plate, two lines appearing between her fair brows. She’s deep in thought about something. “Do you ever question why he did it?”
I already warned her yesterday about her questioning my decisions.
I stop eating. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” says Joy. “For starters, Igor never really spoke about you.”
“He didn’t mention me at all?”
“Sometimes,” says Joy, staring at the space in front of her, remembering.
“Looking back now, he probably didn’t want to say much and accidentally reveal he was part of organized crime.
” She frowns, staring at her plate. “Although, I did ask him about his family when we first met. He didn’t say a lot.
He said his mom left when he was young, and that his dad was never really there. ”
That doesn’t surprise me. Igor’s always been ungrateful. I already had a life set up for him when he was born. Twenty-seven years later, I’m still waiting for him to say thanks.
“What happened to his mother?”
“She died.”
“Oh.” Joy settles back into her seat. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago.”
The maid pins me a look from across the table. I pin her one back.
I pay them to cook, clean and concierge. Not to make judgements.
Joy starts up again. “How I see it—it sounds like you didn’t take much of an interest in your son. Maybe that’s why he—”
“I didn’t ask for your opinion.” I turn to Joy, the flatware clanging on the plate as I set it down. “Igor tried to take advantage. I built a life for him and what did he do? Go behind my back, trying to destroy it all. He was close to ruining his own future.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Igor was meant to be my right-hand-man.” I pick up my flatware, cutting back into the steak.
“On top of that, he’s heir to the Bratva.
He’ll be ruling it one day when my time comes.
” I wash the steak down with a sip of wine.
“That being said, if he doesn’t learn his lesson and betrays the Bratva again, he’ll be banished. I’ll choose Niko instead.”
Joy shivers when I mention his name. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. Nikolai looks more like a monster than a man.
The room falls silent as we all concentrate on eating. The maid and butler keep to their side of the table, forking vegetables into their mouth. Joy looks over. Offers them a small smile.
“Thanks for cooking.”
“You’re very welcome, dear.” The maid smiles.
Can’t say I’ve seen her smile in a while.
“You never really told me why you ended things with Igor.” I neck the rest of my wine, and pour myself a new glass. “I take it you found out my son was framing you.”
“He proposed two weeks ago,” says Joy. “And then he started asking questions about work. That was the first sign. But there were others. I went to surprise him at work. Turns out he’d been lying to me the entire time about working in real estate.”
“Technically—”
“Legitimate real estate,” interrupts Joy. She screws up her lips, pins me a look and gets back to eating steak.
This grabs the maid’s attention.
She has some nerve interrupting me. She shouldn’t be so confident. Ten minutes ago, she was rubbing herself thinking about me.
She definitely wasn’t doing it thinking about Igor.
I glance across the table to the butler and maid. “I’d like to speak to Joy alone.”
“Of course.” The butler bows his head and takes off, the maid following.
I stay quiet until their footsteps disappear down the hall.
Joy abandons the rest of her steak, sitting back in her chair. “Can’t it wait?”
“Some things must be taken care of right away. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?”
Joy frowns.
I spread my legs out beneath me, reclining in the chair. I keep one hand on my wine glass. “Why is it you’re sitting all the way over there?”
Joy screws up her lips again, turning away. “I think you know why.”
“Don’t you like being close to me?”
“No.”
My chair scrapes on the floor as I stand up. I grab my wine and walk over to Joy’s side of the table.
I pull out the chair beside her, sitting down.
I stretch out my legs again, watching her squirm.
I take stock of her face. Her cheeks are turning red, her lips parted. I keep a close eye on her lips. They’re misted over with her cool breath as she inhales, exhales, trying to stretch each breath out for longer each time.
But her breathing is staggered.
She doesn’t want to admit her feelings to me.
“Sometimes I wonder—if we met before, would you have broken things off with Igor earlier?” I turn and face her, keeping our eyes connected.
She’s not looking away. “Why are you asking that?”
“Because I’ve known you for two days, and I’m already making a lasting impression.”
“Wow.” Joy sniffs a laugh. “You really love yourself.”
“Hm,” I grunt. “Maybe I do. But I’m not the only one.” I issue her a look.
She gasps, opening her puffy lips wider for me. I could slot my cock right in.
I’d love to see it dripping in her saliva.
“You seemed flustered when I chained you to my bed, sweetheart.”
“No shit,” she fires back. “Because it was totally uncalled for.” She tenses her jaw and looks away from me again.
She’ll learn to look at me when I’m speaking.
I grab hold of her chin, steering her back around until she’s meeting my eyes again.
My chair scrapes against the floor as I shuffle closer, bringing my face into hers. I smell the steak in her breath. And then my nostrils fill with her scent.
“Did my son ever make you wet, sweetheart?” I trail my finger along her jawline, searching her eyes.
She wasn’t expecting me to ask that. Her steel blue eyes flare wide. Her cheeks turn even redder than before. I zero in on her lips as she parts them.
Her hot, shaky breath blows my way because of how close we are.
Close.
Yet still so fucking far apart.
My cock itches in my pants.
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“A question. Please answer.”
I give her another moment, but she’s turning red again. Still having difficulty breathing.
I could stick my hand under her dress and touch her pussy. Feel how fucking wet she is for me.
“I bet he didn’t,” I say, feeling a smirk lift the ends of my mouth.
Joy scoffs, her eyebrows hitting her hairline. “You’re so full of yourself.”
“No, sweetheart. You wish you were so full of me.”
She stops moving, her eyes coming alive how I want them to.
She’s such a good girl.
I know that when we’re over our differences, we’ll enjoy ourselves in the bedroom.
“My son never made you come, did he?”
“Valerian,” she begins. “This is inappropriate—”
“Like it was inappropriate for you to rub yourself in my house, thinking about me?”
Her gasp tells me everything I need to know. She looks away.
“Not so fast, printsessa.” I grab her chin and steer her back to me. She can deny me all she wants. But her body will always tell the truth. “Don’t tell lies. I know what you were doing in there.”
“I wasn’t doing anything.” She grinds her teeth. “But feel free to think that if it makes you feel better.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” I keep my finger hooked under her chin. “You’re digging yourself a bigger hole by lying to me.”
Her breath hitches. “But I’m not lying. I didn’t—”
I grab her hand. She’s right-hand dominant. I can tell from the way she held her flatware.
She also held the wine glass in her right hand.
Joy tries yanking the hand away, which confirms I have the correct hand.
“What are you doing?” she panics, twisting, turning.
I keep a firm hold of her hand. And then slowly, I raise it to my face.
I capture her eyes.
And she falls deathly still as I raise the hand to my nose and smell her.
Yes. That’s exactly what I smelled when she walked in. Joy really does have the perfect scent. It’s dark. Raw. And it completely unravels me.
“What are you…?”
The rest of that question dissolves on her tongue as I take her pointer finger into my mouth, sucking. Lapping up every last drop of her taste.
I could keep a bottle of it in my pocket. Taste her whenever I need to.
But I don’t need to do that.
She’s living under my roof.
I take the finger from my mouth, giving her hand back. “Why would you do that, sweetheart?”
“What?” she pants, breathless.
“We’re a married couple, and you’d rather touch yourself when your husband can do it for you?”
“I don’t… want...”
I spin my chair around.
I level her a look and reach under her nightgown, slowly lifting the fabric.
“I don’t…”
“By all means, tell me to stop.”
I bring the fabric over her knees, searching her eyes. Her pupils are full blown. The blue has completely disappeared.
I continue lifting the fabric, bringing it up past her thighs. “Tell me to stop.” I give her one last warning.
And then I lift the nightdress up past her hips.
My cock twitches the moment I see her pussy. It’s nicely tucked away between her closed legs.
Such a good girl.
She watches me, her eyes wide with anticipation. Her breathing is erratic, her chest heaving. Her breasts bounce in the nightdress, drawing my attention to them. They’re round. Swollen. I can see her nipples poking through the silk.
But for now, I want to spread her legs and look at her.
I clear the table by dragging my arm across the tablecloth. Plates shatter to the floor. Glasses. Flatware.
Joy shrieks, her breasts bouncing as she jumps.
I hear a pair of footsteps thudding closer. But the butler takes one look at where my hand is and leaves.
“We’ll deal with that later,” I murmur low in Joy’s ear.
Her eyes are wide as she scans the floor. There’s glass shards and ceramic everywhere. And the wine has spilled all over the floor, running over the tiles like blood. It’s the same color.
She forgets about all of that when I curve my hand into her lower thigh, skimming her pussy.
And just as I expected, she’s soaking.
“Jump up onto the table for me.”
“W-what?” Joy stammers.
“Or should I put you up there myself?” I skim her lower back, snaking my hands around her hips and lifting her.
I place her on the edge of the table, hitching the skirt above her hips.
I take a seat. And nudge open her legs.
Joy’s breath disappears.
“That’s it, sweetheart. Nice and wide for me so I can see you.” I press my finger to her pussy and start opening her folds, spreading them wide, exposing more of her pink layers to me. “You’re dripping.”
Her wetness leaves a wet spot on the tablecloth. I’ll be taking that away when we’re done.
I don’t want the butler getting his hands on it.
Joy whimpers, spreading her legs as wide as they can go.
“You have a beautiful pussy, sweetheart,” I murmur.
I tilt her hips. Begin stroking her clit.
Joy cries out, her entire body trembling. I look back at her breasts. They’re bouncing all the time now.
Arousal shoots through me. My cock strains for release. My balls are so fucking tight. I want to feel them slamming into her ass as I fuck her. I could slide right in. Show her that she picked the wrong Sokolov.
But I don’t think her pussy has ever been eaten before.
She’s giving me signs that she’s never even been pleasured.
I bring the chair closer, keeping her hips tilted.
It’s time to eat my meal.
I start slow, licking my tongue over her clit. And she’s already screaming.
Desire fills my body from head to toe.
I grab the nightdress. Rip it from her body. And now she’s fully naked, sitting on my dining room table right where I want her.
Her hard, pink nipples are staring right at me.
I run my hands over them, catching her nipple. She moans. Shifts her body to the edge of the table, like she needs more.
I return to her pussy, licking her clit, bringing her closer to the edge.
She’s right on the verge, I realize, when I slot a finger into her. Her walls clench around the finger immediately, pulsating as she gasps, holding onto my shoulders, preparing for the world to tilt on its axis.
I’ll make sure to flip it for her.
In the distance, I hear the sound of the main door opening, creaking on its hinges, echoing through into the dining hall. I don’t give a fuck about visitors. I’m too consumed by what’s happening here.
I press my mouth back to Joy.
She rubs herself against me, using my nose to rub her clit on.
I smell her even more now, her perfumed scent in my fucking blood stream. I’m high. Nothing can bring me down.
The distant clatter coming from the lobby is none of my business.
Until I hear a familiar voice.
“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?”
Igor.