Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
NICHOLAS
The sight of my wife in the arms of another man—a man I fucking recognized from the detailed background check I’d had done on him as soon as I knew of his existence—has awoken a jealous fucking beast inside me. One that, until Victoria, I hadn’t even been aware existed. But one that has made me want to murder this guy with my bare hands after I caught the tail end of their conversation.
I’d promised her I wouldn’t go looking for him, and I’d kept that promise. But he’d walked into my fucking casino and made coarse comments about wanting to get on my wife’s body. That alone nullified any promises I made.
The bastard’s lucky he’s still fucking breathing.
I’d watched Victoria stiffen when he’d put his filthy fucking arms around her, his touch as uninvited and unwelcome as a tax audit on Christmas morning. I’d almost barged into several paying customers in my haste to get to her.
Logic tells me I should let it slide and go be with my wife on her birthday, but, see, I don’t want to let it go. I want to piss on my territory and make sure Matthew fucking Courteney knows what’ll happen if he ever comes near my wife again.
“Take a seat.” I point to a chair.
He stays standing. “What’s this about?”
I jab my finger at the chair. One chance. That’s all he gets. If he doesn’t fucking sit in it this time, I’ll put him on his arse. “Sit the fuck down.”
His instincts must ignite, allowing the threat in my tone to break through his thick skull. He sits, and the first flickers of fear trickle into his eyes. I’ve seen this look many times before. It’s why it’s easy to recognize. Human males haven’t evolved all that much from our ancestors. We’re bred to recognize threats, and he sees one in me.
His hands come up in a conciliatory fashion. “Look, mate, there’s been a misunderstanding.”
I grab another chair, spin it around, and straddle it, resting my arms on the back. “I am not your fucking mate .” My tone is lethal. “I am your worst nightmare.”
He blinks rapidly, eyes panning to the door before landing back on mine. He shifts in the chair. “I didn’t know she was married. I’ve been away. I’m in the navy.”
He says it like it should give me pause or I should respect him just because he’s a military man. In my world, respect is earned, and I will never have respect for a man who called a woman frigid, even if he’d made fucking Admiral. A woman he was dating. A woman he should have fucking cared for. I will never have respect for a man who treats a woman as though she were a piece of meat created only for his pleasure.
“Is that supposed to impress me?”
His nostrils flare, and I can almost see him working out whether he wants to risk taking me on, or if he should try to talk his way out of whatever he thinks I’m going to do to him.
“I get it, okay? You’re possessive with her, and I touched what belongs to you. But like I said, I didn’t know she was married.”
“From the vantage point I had, you didn’t exactly give her a chance to tell you before you put your filthy fucking hands all over her without her consent and talked to her like she was nothing more than a body.” I lean in even closer, taking enormous pleasure in the way his pupils blow wide. “It’s my wife’s birthday, and I would much rather be with her than with you, so I’m going to make this quick.”
I snap out a hand and lock it around his throat. His eyes bulge out of their sockets, and he automatically tries to peel my fingers away. I tighten my grip.
“If you ever come near my wife again, if you even look at her, say hello to her, or even fucking think about her, I will kill you. You won’t see me coming until it’s too fucking late. Do I make myself clear?”
He bobs his head until it’s at risk of falling right off his neck. “I get it, man,” he rasps. “I’m sorry, okay.”
I squeeze even harder. His face turns purple, and it’s not fear in his eyes any longer, it’s blind terror. His legs kick out.
I stand up, dragging him to his feet. “It’s my wife who deserves the apology, but as you will never fucking see her again, I’ll pass on your apologies to her myself.” I let go and shove him across the room. He stumbles, crashing into a tall filing cabinet on the wall, barely saving himself from falling.
“Get out, you fucking worthless piece of shit.”
He races for the door, almost tripping over his feet as he launches through it. I follow, raising an arm at two of my security team and pointing at Courteney. They nod and launch into action, bracketing him until the crowds swallow all three of them up.
Patting my jacket to make sure the gift I’d kept in the casino’s safe is still in my pocket, I head back to the private function room. Scanning around, I spot Victoria standing with Christian and Tobias. Her eyes land on mine once I get within a few feet of her. Questions swirl in her hazel irises. I give the smallest headshake and a reassuring smile, and she must read what that means because her shoulders drop from around her ears.
He doesn’t deserve her sympathy. He deserves to be in the fucking ground, and that’s where he’ll end up if I ever see his face again.
She says something to my brothers, then makes her way over to me. My belly flips as she closes in. God, I missed her this week. The number of times I almost thought fuck it and jumped on a plane must’ve tipped into the hundreds. The only thing that stopped me was how badly that would’ve gone down with other Consortium members.
Her gaze drops to my hands. “No bruises.”
“I didn’t lay a hand on him.” I shrug. “Okay, I got him around the throat, but he left breathing, which is more than he deserved after the way he spoke to you.”
She grimaces. “Ever look at someone and wonder what you saw in them?”
Yeah. Every fucking woman before you.
“Come with me.” I take her hand and move into the center of the room. “Ladies and gentlemen!” I shout, and the excited chatter falls to a low hum. “I hope you’ve enjoyed the party, and it continues in the main casino.” I motion to the exit. “If you please, I’d like to spend some time alone with my wife.”
She looks at me with yet more questions in her eyes. Not a single person argues. Once everyone has filed out, she voices them. “What’s going on?”
I curve my hands around her cheeks and stare into her eyes. “You’re fucking beautiful, you know that?”
Her skin heats beneath my palms, and she gives a shallow laugh. “Are you drunk?”
“Only on you. I hated being away from you this week.”
Her soft smile makes my stomach do five hundred somersaults. “I hated you being away.”
“I have something for you.” I let her go and reach into my inside pocket for the oblong box. “Happy birthday, Half-pint.”
She giggles at the nickname—one that began as a joke but turned into something between the two of us. In front of others, it’s always Victoria.
“What is it?”
“A car,” I deadpan.
She rolls her eyes. “Funny.”
“Well, don’t ask ridiculous questions. Open it and you’ll find out what it is.”
After tugging the white bow, she lets the ribbon fall to the floor. The top of the box comes off, and she gasps at the gift inside nestled among pale blue satin.
“Oh, Nicholas.” She lifts out the teardrop diamond attached to a platinum chain; her mouth open. “It’s beautiful. Perfect.”
“Technically, it’s not perfect.” I take it from her and circle my finger in the air, indicating she should turn around. She does, lifting her hair off her nape. I fasten the chain around her neck, and she faces me once more. “Most diamonds have tiny imperfections that are difficult to see with the naked eye. This one is rare, though, and it took some persuasion for the owner to part with it.”
She arches a brow. “Persuasion in the form of pulling out fingernails with pliers?”
I shake my head, my shoulders vibrating with laughter. “You have a terrible impression of me. I promise the previous owner’s fingernails are all still attached. The persuasion part came in because his grandfather was the original owner, but it turns out that all he needed was the right number of zeroes on the end for his sentiment to vanish.” I grin. “Want to know what it’s called?”
“It has a name?”
“Yes, named after the man who discovered it, the grandfather. It’s called the Boring diamond.” I laugh. “Imagine your name being Boring. God, those kids must’ve been bullied like fuck at school.”
“And De Vil is better?”
“Sure. No one wants to mess with the Devil, right? Anyway, I filed paperwork to have it renamed. I’m not having my wife wearing a boring diamond.”
“What’s its new name?”
“Victory.”
Two shallow lines appear between her eyebrows, and she tilts her head a few inches to the left. “Victory?”
“Yeah. One, because I feel like I won something when my father decided we were to marry, even if neither of us were keen in the first place.”
“Understating my initial thoughts by about a thousand.” She smiles, and my heart flip flops around in my chest.
“And two, Victoria in Latin means Victory. It seems fitting.”
She touches the diamond. “It’s the most beautiful gift I’ve ever received, and not because it’s a diamond and it probably cost the GDP of a small country, but because of everything you just said.”
I take her hands and bring them to my lips, then walk her backward until her spine bumps into the nearest poker table. “I want to fuck you while you’re wearing only the diamond and those sexy as sin heels. Right here. Right now.”
“I-I-… We can’t.”
I frown. “Why not? No one will come in if that’s what you’re worried about.” Not if they want to see tomorrow. I left strict instructions with security that we were to be left alone and only interrupted if the building is on fire.
She bites her bottom lip. “I got my period this morning.”
Ah. “Are you in pain?”
“No. A little discomfort, but nothing bad.”
“Then, what’s the issue?”
She looks at me as though I’ve sprouted horns. “We can’t have sex while I’m wearing a tampon.”
“True. But we can take it out.”
Her eyes flare wide. “You want to… while I’m… bleeding?”
I laugh. “Half-pint, nothing would stop me fucking you other than if you said no. A little blood doesn’t bother me.” I angle my head. “Does it bother you?”
Two lines pop between her eyebrows. “I haven’t thought about it.”
“Good. When it comes to sex, thinking is overrated.”
I reach around the back of her dress and tug down the zipper. It slips off her easily, gathering around her feet. I take off her bra and hook my thumbs into her lace knickers before sliding them down her legs. The smell of her hits me, and with a groan, I bury my nose in her soft curls. Desire blazes through my veins like wildfire. A week away from my wife is a week too fucking long.
“I’m going to wreck you.”
I grip the string on her tampon and tug. It comes out easily. I wrap it in a tissue and drop it into a waste bin nearby. As I turn back to her, she’s blushing hot enough to fry an egg on her cheeks.
“What?”
“I can’t believe you just did that.”
Wrapping my hands around her waist, I lift her onto the poker table. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. As long as you’re comfortable, you being on your period isn’t going to stop me from being with you.”
My eyes lock onto her pussy. I can’t hold back the groan that spills out of me. Palms on her thighs, I push her legs as wide as they’ll go, and I stare. And stare. And stare.
“Nicholas.” Her skin flushes pink, and she tries to close her legs, but she’s no match for my strength. “Stop looking at me like that.”
“I can’t.” My tongue dampens my lips. “You’re every fucking wet dream I ever had rolled into one.” I lean over her and nuzzle her breasts. “You’re intoxicating. Intimacy with you is my favorite pastime, so if you’re struggling with the fact I’m not afraid of a bit of blood, that I like staring at you, you’re going to have to find a way to deal with that, Half-pint.”
I kiss her breasts, her ribs, her stomach, ending up right where I need to be. One taste, and I’m done for.
I devour her .
Her moans and gasps and pleas for me to stop, don’t stop, harder, softer, faster, slower, are all like sweet fucking music. I grip her behind the knees and rest her calves on my shoulders. Oh, yeah. Just. Like. That.
My dick is as hard as that diamond gracing her neck. The primal urge to free it and drive home calls to me like north to a compass, but this is for her. It has to be for her.
Her heels dig into my shoulders, and she tilts her pelvis, pushing her pussy into my face. Juices coat my chin, and my taste buds are full of her, but it isn’t enough. It’ll never be enough. She’s like the sweetest nectar. A flavor created only for me.
“Nicholas.” She’s panting now, so close. I flick her clit with my tongue and burrow two fingers inside her, curling them to hit the spot I know drives her crazy.
“Tell me you missed me.” I don’t understand why it matters, but it does. I want to hear her say the words, soak up her despair, her misery at being without me. I want her to hate being apart. I need to know she’s depressed when I’m not lying beside her. It takes a special kind of selfish bastard to relish their wife being miserable, and I fill that role like a fucking boss.
I don’t even care.
“I missed you.” She clasps handfuls of my hair, tugging hard. “I missed you so much.”
I drag my teeth over her clit, and she comes apart, screaming my name. She’s still pulsing when I tug down my zipper and pull out my dick, then push inside her with one powerful thrust.
I take both of her hands in one of mine and push them over her head. My free hand covers one of her breasts, and I devour the other, her rasping cries music to my fucking ears.
She holds her breath right before she climaxes again, and those ripples of her inner walls milking my dick is my downfall.
“Shit, Victoria. Fuck. ” I collapse on top of her, but only for a second. Palms flat on the poker table, I lift myself up and gaze into her eyes. Pressure builds across my chest, my lungs flattening as something I can’t identify shifts inside me. She opens her mouth, but whatever she planned to say dies on her lips.
Shaking her head, she gives me a close-lipped smile. “Consider me wrecked.”
I graze the tip of my nose along hers and peck her lips. “Happy Birthday, Half-pint. Here’s to many more.”