14. Chapter Fourteen
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
V iktor
By the time I left the party, I was in a foul mood. I did my best to keep my distance from my would-be fiancée, but the bitch followed me around like a shadow, as if to assure a room full of strangers of a connection that did not truly exist. I just wanted to leave and get back to Tiffany.
I walked into my penthouse, an outfit in hand, so I could keep my promise. I’d get Tiffany all the goddamn ice cream she wanted.
Upstairs, I walked into my bedroom to find her in bed where I left her. She looked sated in the best way, peacefully napping.
I laid the dress out for her at the end of the mattress then leaned forward, thinking of kissing her awake like a prince might, but I gently pinched her nipple instead. She moaned and slowly opened her eyes, a cheshire cat grin on her face. I kissed her then. How could I not?
It would be easy for me to join her in bed again, but a promise was a promise. “Get dressed,” I mumbled against her lips. “We are going out.”
When I stood up, her glossy eyes looked up at me in a way that both made my heart bloom with joy, and a red flag wave in my weary brain. I knew the look of obsession when I saw it. I had to remind myself yet again that this was not a woman to trifle with.
“You’re incredibly beautiful,” I complimented. “But surely you knew that already.”
Her cheeks turned pink, and she lowered her gaze. I watched her pull the sheet up yet again, hiding her gorgeous breasts, and those generous curves that I hoped would soon fill out, with my child in her womb.
“Oh milyy, you aren’t going shy on me now? Not after all we shared.”
When she flicked her gaze up at me, I winked. I absently noted that she had yet to speak. I didn’t mind, though. I enjoyed the silence.
“Up!” I commanded.
It pleased me that I didn’t have to ask twice. She did quickly, and easily dressed herself. She took a few minutes in the bathroom to touch-up, and soon after, I was escorting her to the car.
We drove in a comfortable silence, my hand holding hers. I took her to a place that was under our protection, because I knew the owner of the business, and I owned the building. I smiled at that reminder. Yes, the Bratva ran my hometown, but I personally owned half the real estate. While Alexie was busy buying luxuries, I was investing in real estate. Truth be told, unlike my brother, I didn’t need the family’s wealth. I had my own now. Even if the Bratva were to disappear tomorrow, or God forbid, should I be disowned like Alexie was, I would not need handouts.
At the shop, I did the gentleman thing and opened Tiffany’s car door, reached over to unclasp the seatbelt, and helped her out. Once on her feet, she tried to pull her hand out of mine, but I held fast. I wanted her to feel my ownership.
She smiled coyly, as if she had been testing me, then rewarded me by clinging to my arm like a loving girlfriend. It made me feel good, and my sour mood a little less bitter tasting.
I opened the door to the ice cream parlor, enjoying the sweet and cool smell that rushed into my nostrils. Tiffany beamed and bounced excitedly at my side. I looked down at the way her eyes seemed to glow in child-like joy and wonderment, at all the flavors and colors. No wonder people like Sasha and the rest of my men underestimated her. She seemed too innocent to be capable of the brutality that she could, when she wanted, bring upon another human.
Despite this, there was this innate need inside of me to care for her. Make her feel good. To let her know that I could love her darkness, the same as I could love her light.
“Hi, what would you guys like to order?” the young-ish cashier asked in Russian.
My woman leaned toward me and signaled me closer, and I hunched a bit so she could cup her free hand around my ear. She was being shy, and I never knew something like that could turn me on, but I was. I liked that she trusted me to see to her needs, to hide herself from the world even in public, giving only me her attention.
“Can I have only a half-scoop of fat-free vanilla ice cream?” she whispered.
“Only a half?” I murmured, confused.
She whispered in my ear again, “I’m on a diet.”
I felt the warmth of her face near mine, and knew she was blushing from embarrassment.
Rage raced through my veins. This gorgeous creature thought she needed to slim down? If anything, she needed to pack on a few pounds. I needed her to be strong enough to give birth to my child. Thick thighs, wide hips, and large ample breasts for milk. These were the traits we sought in women to carry strong heirs. Women who were not afraid to eat, who could ensure a healthy son that they could then push out and nurse.
“You will have more than half a scoop,” I damn-near growled. “And you will not diet. I won’t allow it.”
She blew out a heavy breath. “Fine,” she quietly conceded. “A scoop of normal vanilla.”
“No. You will have a sundae.”
She shook her head. “I won’t eat it.”
I smiled tightly at the cashier and reverted back to speaking Russian, to inform the employee that I needed to borrow the store’s freezer for an undetermined amount of time, and that I didn’t want to be disturbed.
The young woman behind the counter blinked at me owlishly. She nodded, as her face drained of color. Though she likely wanted to say no, out of the fear of what her boss would say, I know she recognized me, and if not me, the signet ring I wore. I was scarier than her boss could ever be.
Trembling, she pointed behind her head. The poor girl probably wondered if I would be dragging her to her death in the back, but that was not the case. My little milyy needed to be taught a lesson regarding her self-worth. No woman of mine would be less than. Not even in her goddamn thoughts.
I thanked the cashier, then pulled Tiffany toward the swinging doors behind the counter. She tried to take her hand out of mine, but I wouldn’t allow it.
When she dug her heels in, I grabbed the hair at the nape of her neck and forced her through. I spoke only when we cleared the swinging barriers.
“You will never again defy me, especially when we are in public. Do you understand?”
When she refused to answer, I unlatched the old walk-in freezer and propelled her into the dimly lit room. I flipped the switch to illuminate the space, then after checking to make sure we could get out, closed the heavy door behind me. I removed my blazer and placed it aside.
“Take off your clothes,” I demanded.
She glared at me.
“Take. Them. Off.”
Even though her eyes welled, the tears did not spill. Interesting turn of events, considering that my milyy didn’t seem to be the sensitive type. An arrogant man would have brushed this off, but I was not stupid. The cold, empty glare in her eyes told me that I had not only hurt her feelings, but I had pissed her off, and she had turned from sweet submissive to sexy serial killer in an instant.
It was thrilling, really. True, I was in danger, but I welcomed the challenge of conquering such a formidable foe, before sinking my aching cock into her weeping slit. She had a body made for fucking.
Not breaking eye contact, she took off her dress, revealing her supple dark skin, without a blemish… or undergarments. Naughty girl. The cold tightened her nipples, and goosebumps sprinkled across her skin. She was trying not to show me how uncomfortable she was in the cold. I relished the pain it brought, and she would learn to love it as well.
She was fucking perfection. I would not make the same mistake weaker men had made, in underestimating this little darling. She was mine. She would always be mine. Until death did us part. And she needed to realize that I was not like the others. There was a good reason why they were dead, and her virgin blood was staining my cock, while their dicks were in glass jars.
I stalked towards her.
She backed away, until her ass hit the back shelf filled with tubs of ice cream. “W-what are y-you going to-to do to me?” she chattered.
When I gently moved her hair from her face, she fluttered her lashes, being coy. I pressed closed, inhaled deeply of her; a scent made even sweeter by the cold and the sugar, and cupped her jaw tenderly. The pad of my thumb rubbed her bottom lip, caressing the trembling plumpness that made me just want to kiss her, rather than what I had planned. But to get lost in her innocence and beauty would be my undoing.
Tiffany needed me. And she needed me to be clear, concise, and consistent. And she needed me to show her why we were destined for each other.
“Look at me,” I murmured.
When her beautiful eyes met mine, I nearly splooged in my pants. God, she was fucking beautiful. The thumb rubbing her bottom lip slipped into her mouth. She did not disappoint. Keeping our gazes locked, she sucked on it like the good girl she was pretending to be.
“I’m going to punish you, milyy. And you are going to let me, right?”
She looked enthralled as she nodded.
“Then I’m going to fuck you in the ass. Hard. And you will beg me for it.”
When she nipped my finger, I roughly grabbed her chin, forcing her to open her mouth. I pulled the bloody thumb out and smeared it across her lips and chin.
“Naughty girl. You know you deserve this. I told you to obey me, yes?”
“Yes, sir,” she whispered.
“I cannot let your disobedience slide. People die for such things in my world. Understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Her gaze dropped. She was shivering. “I’m sorry.”
“I know. But you committed a worse offense than even that, Tiffany.”
The slight gasp she released indicated her surprise. Startled eyes met mine once again. “I did?” she intoned. “What did I do?”
“You will not diet. Not with me. You are more than beautiful. You are perfect. And you will eat to properly support the child that might be growing in your womb as we speak.”
She dipped her head, and I moved back to let her look at her stomach. I spread a wide palm on the plump curve that would one day grow with my heir. She laced her fingers over mine.
“Okay,” she murmured. “You’re right. Punish me, Victor.” Then she confessed something that damn near broke my heart, when she ever so quietly added, “My weight and body shape does sometimes make me self-conscious. I’m not as thin and pretty as the other women around here.”
I leaned forward and kissed the top of her head, then spoke in her ear. “They don’t compare to you.” I then gently turned her around to face the shelf, and guided her hands to hold the ledge above to brace herself.
I stepped back, noting that she was violently shivering. If it were cold or fear or a combination of both, I could not say.
I unbuckled my belt.