Page 70 of Viripotent

The brat strokes up my thighs and brings her face closer, trying to hide how much she loves being called a queen. Those dark eyes are alive and her lips twitch as she softly fires back, “I’m not calling you king.”

If there’s ever a day where she doesn’t have a smartass comment I’ll know she’s in trouble. It’ll be a code to check if she’s safe.

She stretches like a cat, lifting her ass in the air and knocks my hand away from her face. I’m still fully dressed while my wife stands in nothing apart from lingerie and a veil but the look on her face makes me feel like the one who’s exposed. Chasing it away physically, my fingers wrap around her hips pulling her closer and the abrupt movement has a squeal brushing my jaw. The little giggle after it, has me turning rougher, not liking how she’s fucking with my head.

Wrapping an arm around the back of Inessa’s thighs, I lift her as I stand and throw her over my shoulder. If I spend any more time looking at her face, I’ll combust. She’s working herself under my skin, this can’t go beyond what was agreed, not when it ends with my death.

Heading towards the bedrooms, her ass is literally in my face, and I’ve never been a saintly man. Stroking up the back of herthighs, my lips press into her skin through her veil, and I score my teeth down her flesh, watching the skin turn pink. Reaching the curve just below her ass, my fingers straighten, pushing between her legs and the moan behind me is nothing but rocket fuel for my dick.

There are no fancy decorations to make this into more than it should be as we reach the bedroom. The sheets are mine. I can smell the detergent from the threshold of the door. She slowly slips down my body and I grab her waist before her toes can touch the ground and throw her onto the bed. She bounces. The veil gets caught under her hip and all the pins keep her hair in place, apart from a few loose curls which fall free. She rips the veil out of her hair and lifts up to pull it out and throw it behind her.

Inessa sits up, leaning on her elbows and holds her leg up to me.

“Take it off.”

Her need to be a brat is going to hurt her tomorrow.

I’ll be gentle once and then the virgin gloves are off.

Holding her ankle, I lift her leg higher until her foot is near my shoulder. She scrambles as I tug and grips the sheets between her gloved fingers as I lift her ass off the bed.

Doing it again until the only contact on the bed is between her shoulder blades, desire coats my voice, dulling the usually unvoiced threat.

“I am not your dog to order and train.”

Fake innocence stares up at me with a pout and my fingers tighten around her ankle at the way her mouth works.

“But you’d look so pretty in a collar.”

I drop her leg and exchange it for her neck. There’s no fear in her deep brown eyes as I pull her up, so we’re nose to nose. She’s dark and twisted, challenging hell, because she’d be bored ruling heaven.

I don’t trust myself to taste her smart mouth and tilt her head to the side at the last second. It’s not a kiss to her cheek, my teeth nip at her, and she moans right into my fucking ear. My dick is going to hate me, but I stop myself and take a step back, reminding myself it’s her first time and she needs preparation. Disappointment has her face falling when I’m being a gentleman and step away. It turns into confusion as she sits up on her elbows, watching me pull a chair to the foot of the bed. I take a seat and tap the armrest. She moves reluctantly, not understanding and needs words.

“Ass on the end of the bed and feet up here. You’re going to do as you’re told for once.”

TWENTY-SEVEN

Inessa

Imay as well be naked, but Vlad has only removed his jacket and tie. His refusal to touch me fully is annoying as fuck and I lay as he instructed. He tilts his head to the side when I have one foot on each side of the armrests, and hums as he lifts my leg, letting himself out of the cage. My face is heating at being dismissed and he can go fuck himself since he clearly isn’t going to fuck me.

Before I can move, soft cushions are positioned under my back, propping me up and he stares down at me, speaking to himself.

“Better.”

He slowly walks away. His fingers brush up the length and trace the contours of my curves as he goes back to the end of the bed.He’s killing me with barely-there touches and all I really want is to feel his lips on mine. For the first time since I met him, he’s been open and actually touched me instead of telling me to shut up.

He lifts my leg to let himself back into his seat. Electricity moves up my calf from his fingers settling between my thighs as my imagination recreates his touch where I want him. He’sbarely touching me and I’m a wreck. Stroking up from my ankles to my knees, he presses his palms, widening my thighs and blazes an indecent trail down my body.

It should not affect me. I like my body and I’m comfortable in it. That’s what matters. But seeing his appreciation has me squirming for more. His voice is deep and low, giving an instruction I don’t mind following.

“Take everything off,” he softly presses his lips to the inside of my knee and speaks against my skin, “slowly.”

The rough, deep voice has my eyes rolling back and my back arches without him touching anything other than the inside of my knees. The smallest crease appears between his brows, not noticing the hooks at the front of my bra as I push my shoulders into the sheets. He smirks as my chest raises off the bed and I undo each one painfully slowly.

He lightly slaps the inside of my thigh for doing as he said, his eyes darkening, adding excitement to my lust.

“Not that slow, brat.”

---