23. Chapter Twenty-Three
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
T iffany
The late afternoon light shone through the tall windows, and I watched everyone quickly leave the penthouse, escaping the tension still in the air from the uncomfortable marriage ceremony.
I figured it was because I got married while sitting in a kitchen chair, wearing a robe, with bandages on my feet. But all the necessary people were present, and all the legal documents had been signed and stamped. I even had a ring to mark the occasion.
I was now a married woman.
I looked at the beautiful ring that had belonged to his mother. He had assured me he would get me a proper set soon, that this was just a place-holder, but I loved this one so much that I wanted to keep it. It felt good, like maybe his mother was blessing our union from the afterlife.
I looked to see where Viktor was in the other room, obviously annoyed at whoever he was speaking to. He then abruptly hung up the phone and returned to my side.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yes, yes, just… irritated.”
“Why?”
He pocketed the cell. “My godfather, Roger, has that effect on me every time he opens his mouth.”
“What did he want?”
“To advise me to annul our marriage immediately.”
I was confused. “Why would he care?”
“Because I’m already engaged, per my father.”
He spoke with such casual ease, that I doubted he noticed the way my heart leapt into my throat. Somewhere in the distance, it felt like a record scratched to a halt.
“What do you mean you’re already engaged?” I blurted out.
“Was.” Viktor let out a weary sigh. “Yesterday, my father arranged a marriage I didn’t want, and I circumvented it today by marrying you.”
“You son of a bitch.” My voice quivered with a touch of indignation. “This is why you were rushing our relationship.”
His brows folded as he peered down at me. “Yes, but our marriage was inevitable. You were mine the moment I laid eyes on you.”
“Really?” Fucking liar. “Why me?”
“Because you are exceptional. I find myself helplessly drawn to you.”
I narrowed my gaze. “You don’t even know me.”
“I know you better than anyone else on this planet. I probably know you better than you know yourself.”
This cocky motherfucker here.
I peered up at him, about to flick open my poison ring, but there was a knock at the door, which saved Viktor from my wrath… for the moment.
Viktor went to deal with it.
When the front door opened, moving men entered with all my possessions, while some woman ordered them to place things here and there. I shot my gaze at Viktor.
“My interior designer.”
I rolled my eyes.
But following that flurry of activity came another group of people, carrying a variety of plants and equipment. I had to blink hard and pinch myself to know I was not dreaming. This was the apothecary setup I had always dreamed about. Rare herbs and flowers, exotic roots and resins, minerals and chemicals…
“Is… is that for me?”
“It is,” Viktor responded. “Your bridal gift.”
I leapt from the kitchen chair and fell into his arms… fell from the bulk of the bandages, I mean. It was hard to walk in them.
“I don’t know what to say,” I cooed. “Thank you. This means the world.”
Viktor offered me a rare smile and kissed my head. “Chefs will be coming in this evening to cook us a special meal in celebration of our nuptials.”
“That sounds nice,” I mumbled into his chest. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply of him. He smelled good.
Viktor suddenly lifted me into his arms. “Nap time. I’ll wake you when dinner is ready.”
“I’m glad I have this nice robe to wear,” I joked. “Hopefully it’s not too fancy.”
“Oh, you won’t be wearing that.” He placed me in the bed and tucked me in.
I frowned. I really didn’t feel like getting dressed up.
“You will be naked for it,” he added.
???
The dinging of a bell woke me.
I sat up, finding the room cast in candlelight. Next to the bed stood a small, silver cart with a glass of champagne and a note.
Remember. I said naked. ~V
I stood and wobbled, still a little groggy from the pain medicine. But my feet didn’t hurt even a bit. Viktor really had the good stuff.
Nude as the day I was born, I meandered out of the bedroom and found my way to the dining room.
Viktor awaited me at the head of the table, his imposing figure silhouetted against the flickering light of countless candles. The table was set for two, an elaborate spread laid out by his personal chefs. The air was rich with the aroma of truffles, seared steak, and freshly baked bread. Normally, such a feast would have made my mouth water, but tonight, it turned my stomach.
We weren’t alone.
Three servants, all male, blended into the background, and looked on as if they couldn’t see me. I slowed to a stop, as shame ran like lava in my veins and burned my skin. This was obviously a power move from Victor, perhaps a response to our game earlier.
I might have to kill him after all, I mused to myself.
But a small bit of thrill tingled my nerve endings, when I realized some of the staff couldn’t control themselves, or their dicks . Though they kept their eyes at a respectful level, their pants were tenting. I smiled at the unexpected non-verbal compliments.
Viktor’s nostrils flared as he looked over, watching my arousal dampen the curls of my sex. He suddenly seemed annoyed that I was not at his side yet, that I was lingering near the three observers.
“Come, Tiffany. Sit,” he commanded, his voice a low rumble that brooked no argument.
I hesitated, every instinct telling me to turn around and walk out of this gilded nightmare, and never look back. But as if he heard my thoughts, Viktor’s cold, piercing eyes locked onto mine.
Fuck, he was handsome. And we were now married. There was no leaving. For either of us.
Reluctantly, I moved to the table, to where he held out my chair, so I could take the seat opposite him. The chair was plush, almost too comfortable, as if mocking my unease. Viktor watched me, his expression unreadable. This form of intimacy wasn’t something that I was used to.
“You look beautiful tonight,” he said, his tone softer but no less menacing. A familiar sign of lust showed on his face as he resumed his place at the table.
“Thank you.” I forced a small smile as I responded, growing more comfortable in my naked skin. I wished I could see myself through his eyes. He seemed to devour my curves, as his gaze moved down my body then back up again.
He lifted a crystal glass filled with red wine and swirled it, and the deep crimson liquid caught the light. “To us,” he said, raising his glass in a toast.
I mirrored his action out of habit, clinking my glass against his. “To us,” I echoed hollowly, the words tasting bitter on my tongue. It wasn’t just us in the room.
With a heavy exhale, I took a small sip. The wine, warm and heady, did little to calm my nerves.
“I had the chefs prepare all your favorites,” he offered.
At the prompting, I looked down at the food, meticulously arranged on fine bone china. I loved how he stalked me. Everything was perfect.
I picked up my fork and forced myself to take a bite, the flavors exquisite in my mouth, but hard to swallow. Anxiety tightened my throat. I couldn’t get out of my head. I could feel the gazes of the three servants on me. I did not like to eat in front of others, especially while so vulnerable.
An effective punishment. Well played, sir.
I wanted to get dressed.
Viktor cut into his Bulava steak with precision. “Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind?”
Viktor’s voice was deceptively gentle, but I knew better. There was always a price for honesty in his world. “I would like to wear clothes,” I mumbled.
“No.” He simply replied, then nodded toward my plate. “Eat.”
Frustrated, I tossed my fork on the table, the clatter of which was loud in the quiet. “You’re not listening to me. I want to wear my clothes. I don’t like this. I’m not comfortable.”
Viktor slowly set his utensils down, and cleaned off his mouth with his napkin, all while never taking his eyes off me. He then stood, slowly, his gaze intense like a predator stalking its prey.
My breath caught in my throat when he leaned down to speak to my ear.
“Are you not mine?” he whispered.
“Y-Ye-Uh-n-no,” I stammered out a confusing response.
Viktor pulled out my chair. “Rise,” he commanded.
His tone brooked no argument. I did as he told me, trembling in anticipation. Was I getting to go to the room for clothing? Or was this something more nefarious?
“Kneel.”
Apparently it was the latter.
I quietly grumbled my displeasure as he helped me to the ground. If he heard my softly spoken threats, he didn’t let it show. What was he going to do to me in front of these servants? My thumb flicked open my antique ring.
“Open for me.”
I followed his commands, parting my lips and holding my tongue out. I’m not sure if that was what he was wanting, but I couldn’t help but brat him a bit. After all, he had me naked on the floor in front of all his serving staff, and he had freed his erection.
“What a beautiful sight you make,” Viktor whispered, his tone reverent as he gently tangled his fingers in my hair, and lifted my head so I could meet his gaze. “It’s not a hardship punishing you. You like my discipline, yes?”
I wanted to say no, but our time together had been nothing but sex and pain. So I nodded and batted my lashes.
He smiled. “Eyes stay with mine,” he murmured, and guided his cock into my mouth.
The underside of his shaft glided along the top of my tongue as he slowly delved into the warmth. My shoulders heaved as he slipped into my throat, but there was not much I could do when he held my head. My eyes watered as my gag reflex choked his cockhead. He moaned in appreciation and withdrew. Drool spilled from my lips as he pulled out, dribbling down my chin and onto my breasts.
I only had a second to breathe before his hard cock was slipping into my mouth again, repeating the punishment and going deep enough to cause my stomach to retch, and my glands to salivate. I coughed around his shaft, but he did not let up. Rather, he went deeper, until all I knew was Viktor’s eyes and the taste of his dick.
Before I could suffocate, he pulled back, and held onto my head as he slowly started fucking my face. Our eyes never wavered from each other, even when he tipped my head for more leverage and his hips thrust in earnest.
I could only imagine how obscene it must have looked to the staff, as he moved faster and faster, groaning above me, the sound of wet smacking skin loud in the otherwise quiet room.
“So. Fucking. Good,” he growled and slid deep down my throat.
There he stayed.
Tears had filled my eyes. I couldn’t breathe. I moaned for mercy, but knew better than to push him away.
“Finger yourself,” he ordered. “We will come together.”
Growing dizzy, my fingers slid down my stomach to the apex between my thighs. My thumb flicked my clit as my fingers delved into my pussy. I was so fucking wet.
“Good fucking girl,” he rasped as he withdrew only enough to slam back into my throat. “Now fucking come.”
As if my body knew he was my master, I did just that. Viktor pulled out of my mouth to come all over my face, and I rode my fingers to a glorious orgasm that had me crying out like a porn star.
I knew I should be ashamed for being such a whore for him, for fucking myself on the floor of his dining room while his staff watched, but I was addicted. I loved that his cum was coating my lips and chin, and dripping down onto my naked breasts and stomach.
Gasping and trembling, Viktor wrenched me up, grasped my hips, and lifted me onto the table, forcing me to sit on my plate of food.
Candles tipped when he violently pushed me back and forced me to spread my legs extra wide, like the dining table was a gynecologist’s chair. He then swiped his fingertips across my skin to collect the clumps of semen off my torso, before he proceeded to fingerfuck me with his cum.
Again, I shamelessly wailed my pleasure, hiding nothing from view, coming so hard I was surely spilling out onto the floor, like the wine glasses that tipped over and rolled about. He drew orgasm after orgasm from my body, until I begged him to stop.
But even then, he didn’t.
Like a conductor at a symphony, Viktor played on. He continued fingerfucking me with one hand, while his free hand grasped my breasts and pulled on the nipples, adding a bite of pain to the waves of pleasure.
Meanwhile, I literally sobbed from the experience, so weak from the strain on my body, that I could do nothing but cream myself and cry pitifully. If one were to hear my screams, they might think he was murdering me.
Finally, he rolled me onto my side so I could curl up in a fetal position on the table, then removed his hand from my pussy. He walked away from me to address the waiting servants.
Pop. pop. pop.
Three bodies hit the floor.
I lifted my head.
Viktor holstered his gun. “They were never going to leave here alive. I would never let a man see what is mine only and live.”
“Really?” I squeaked, my heart near bursting
“Yes, really.” He returned to the table. “They were destined to die. Spies for my godfather. But know that even if they had been innocent men, they would have met their demise. You belong to me. Your body belongs to me. Your pleasure belongs to me. I do not share.”