VLAD (The V Games #1)

by Ker Dukey

  Fast, efficient jabs to the neck, the object shines when the light catches it. It’s a knife. Not the fish hook one. A different one—one with their crest etched into it. The imperial two-headed eagle. The man sags in his arms, blood spurting from the wounds in his neck.

  Normally unemotional, calm eyes blaze with wildness. Vlad’s expression is crazed for a moment before he blinks it away and releases the man. He falls to the floor with a thud, blood puddling around him.

  I stare for a second until I think I’ll be sick. Bile races up my throat, and I jump down from the counter to rush to the sink. I retch, and tears spring to my eyes. I’ve seen men killed before—hell, even women, by Vlad’s hand, no less—but this was not because of something they did. It was for something we did. I did. He was protecting us—the awful things we were doing. That means I’m a monster too.

  “Irina,” Vlad says, his voice quiet and collected. Fingers run down my spine, offering me comfort. “He has a loose tongue. He would have talked.” He continues to stroke me, and I wonder if he’s smearing blood all over my clothes.

  I shudder and nod, wiping a hand across my mouth. “I know,” I tell him, because I do. I quickly wash my hands, but it doesn’t clean away the dirtiness I feel all over right now.

  “Go help Diana pack for tonight,” he urges, his tone soft and gentle. It’s hard to come to terms with who’s touching me and who stabbed a man to death seconds ago. “I’ll have food brought to you when I’ve cleaned this mess up.”

  “Okay,” I manage, then pull away from the sink to leave, my body trembling violently.

  His hand grasps mine before I get too far away. The heat and comfort he provides with his strong touch grounds me. The shaking subsides as his fingers trace over my palm. He stares at me, his eyes making promises I somehow understand down to a cellular level.

  What’s happening between us is unstoppable.

  An arranged marriage. His bratty, meddling sister. A potential loose-lipped man.

  Nothing will snuff out what has begun to rage between us. An inferno. A fiery explosion of epic proportions.

  We are the sun.

  This isn’t just lust taking us over. This is so much more. Something that needs to be protected and kept from everyone else.

  Our fingers dance with each other’s before our connection breaks. With watery eyes, but a new resolve, I push out the doors and allow him to do what he does best.

  Take control. Handle things. Make moves that ensure he wins.

  And this time, I hope he does win, because we’re on the same team.

  Stepan enters the kitchen five minutes after I called him. He looks down at one of my father’s lackeys and raises a questioning brow. It’s not his job to question me, so I ignore his unspoken request and tell him to take care of it.

  Leaving him to it, I make my way to my office. I was rash and foolish to take Irina like that in the open, but seeing her flushed from sleep and knowing my scent would be lingering on her skin from last night was too tempting. There were so many things I wanted to do to her I didn’t get time for last night, my urges overtook me, and for once, I let them.

  I slip behind my desk and bring up the camera monitors for the kitchen. I rewind the feed and delete the recorded indiscretion. Problem solved.

  Sighing, I lean back in the chair and relish her flavor still lingering on my lips. She consumes me. Now that I’ve tasted her, I don’t think I can ever stop.

  She’s mine.

  And that’s not changing any time soon.

  Diana knocks on the office door, but before she can enter, she is shoved aside as Vika waltzes in.

  “Diana’s servant is going to drive us,” she whips out, checking her nails. “Does Father know you’re already making me pick out my dress?” Her snide tone makes me want to laugh, but I don’t.

  “Father doesn’t care, Vika,” I tell her, emotionless. Bored even. I’m already so goddamn bored with her. “Why should he?”

  She spits more venom before turning on her heel. “Ya nenaviju tebya.” I hate you.

  “He’s not a servant,” Diana informs her as she passes.

  “What?” Vika snaps.

  “Anton,” Diana says coolly. “He’s a bodyguard, not a servant.”

  Rolling her eyes, Vika flees the room, leaving Diana and I alone.

  Diana walks toward me and stops next to a picture of Viktor and I. It’s the same one Irina was playing with when she was in here. She picks it up and studies it. “With Viktor’s death, I thought you’d have gotten closer, but you appear to be at odds with your sister.”

  I stand and round the table, taking the picture from her hand and placing it down. “Vika has always had her own agenda. She doesn’t care about Viktor.”

  Her brows furl as she places a hand over my heart. “You speak of him like he’s still here.”

  “I still feel him here,” I tell her honestly.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t have allowed him to enter The Games,” she adds brazenly.

  I study her features for a moment. This woman is supposed to be my wife soon. Irritation bubbles up inside me. Sometimes I wonder if Diana and I are too similar to be properly matched. One day, her tendency to question my authority will rub me the wrong way and it won’t end pretty.

  “Are you saying I didn’t value my brother’s life like you do Irina’s?” I attempt to keep my voice steady, but anger causes it to shake slightly. She is walking on thin ice. Viktor is a trigger for my less calm side.

  She drops her hand and shrugs a shoulder. “I’m just saying I would have never risked Irina like that.”

  “You know our life,” I spit out. “Viktor lived to enter The Games. He wanted to prove himself to my father.”

  “Well, it didn’t work,” she says with a huff. “Did it?”

  Anger coils my nerves. How dare she speak of things she doesn’t understand?

  “Shagay ostorojno, Diana.” Tread carefully, Diana.

  Her lips purse and she gives me a slight nod. She knows she’s pushed as far as she can for one day. I’m seconds from snapping. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” she says, her voice all business as she changes the subject. “Irina is taking a nap. She’s exhausted for some reason. Please make sure she eats some dinner.”

  “I will.”

  She stands on her tiptoes and plants a chaste kiss to my cheek. “Vlad.” With that, she walks toward the door.

  “Safe travels,” I call out to her retreating form. She doesn’t say another word as she leaves.

  I take a seat back at my desk and smile at the idea of sweet little Irina needing to nap. Smooth, creamy skin on display. A soft pout on her supple lips as she sleeps. Gorgeous blonde hair in disarray. My cock is getting hard just thinking about pulling away her covers to view the delectable woman who would no doubt be hiding beneath.

  All warmth is sucked from the room as a chill rattles down my spine. My back straightens when my father enters my office. He hardly ever comes here. If he wants me, he summons me, and like the loyal son I am, I obey.

  “Otets?” It comes out as a question more than a greeting. I start to stand, but he holds his hand up to stop me.

  “Sit,” he orders. He pours himself a drink from the canter I keep on my desk. Taking his time to get to the point is another of Father’s favorite games. To keep people on edge and waiting. But knowing this already, I simply wait him out. Two can play at his game. He’s no longer the ruler in my world, despite what he may think.

  “Ruslan’s birthday is next month,” he says finally. “Let’s throw him a party and announce the marriage date. I want this marriage settled right away.”

  Perfect. The sooner the better.

  “Sounds like a great idea,” I concur. His shoulders are squared as he sips his vodka—a new brand, compliments of my fiancée. Evidently, Father is not done speaking.

  “I want Darya brought into the main house and given living quarters.” His amber eyes narrow as he pins me with a hard stare, daring me to disag
ree.

  I bite back a smirk and lean forward, clasping my hands together in front of me on the desk. “Oh?”

  He’s never taken an interest in one of his fuck toys.

  As if appearing to ponder this choice, he frowns for a moment before settling with a slight nod. He downs the contents of his glass and sets it down loudly. “She reminds me of your mother. I think I’ll keep her around for a month or two.”

  My heart picks up speed at the mention of my mother. He never talks of her. She left when I was young, and we’ve never seen her since. Father won’t even keep pictures of her around. She scorned him, created an animal in her wake. He’s brutal with women, never to keep one around for long, and to have a whore brought into the main house is unheard of. For any of us. But that doesn’t mean I’ll be the one to tell dear old Dad no. If anything, it reveals a weakness—a weakness I’ll enjoy poking and prodding simply to see the effects of it.

  “I’ll have it seen to,” I assure him, though it wasn’t a request.

  “The youngest Volkov girl?” he asks, and a fire ignites within me.

  It takes everything in me not to scowl at the mention of her on his vile tongue. “Irina? What of her?”

  He eyes me, studying my features for a moment. I know what he’s doing. He’s been doing it since I was old enough to speak. Father watches for small tells and then flays you apart with his tongue and his vicious words. He won’t find any tells written on my features, though. He schooled me in aloofness many years ago. I learned from the best.

  “I’m thinking she may have been a better match for you,” he utters, his brows wrinkling together as he considers his words.

  What?

  An unusual sensation flourishes within me.

  Hope?

  Goddammit, what sort of game is he playing?

  He continues without me forming a response. “Diana is a beautiful girl, but too headstrong. She will need to be reined in, Vlad. Bring her to her knees and show her women may have run the show in the Volkov household, but she will be a Vasiliev soon and we breed men. She will breed sons for you, not run a business she thinks she will still own once that wedding ring is on her finger.”

  “She will know her place, Father,” I all but growl out. “Don’t you worry about these things. I am my father’s son, after all.” I flash him a dark look.

  He grins over at me and runs a hand over his smooth jaw. “Ven appears smitten with the Volkov women. I think Leonid would encourage that coupling.”

  Thud.

  My hands clench, the veins in my arms ready to burst open and paint my desk red. “Irina has forsaken her father,” I say calmly. “I doubt she cares what he wants.” I sit back, playing indifferent despite the raging anger inside me.

  “This is the problem when you raise women to think for themselves,” he snarls. He drums his fingers on the arm of the chair. “Maybe this can work in our favor.”

  “How so?”

  I wish he would shut the hell up.

  Irina is mine.

  Fucking mine.

  “We can push her in the direction of who would serve our interests.” He’s cunning. It’s where Vika gets her sly ways.

  “Diana won’t allow us to decide her sister’s fate,” I inform him. I won’t allow him to send her over to the goddamn vultures.

  His face screws up into a sneer. “Diana will do what the hell she’s told,” he snaps. “You’ll set her straight, Vlad, or I’ll do it for you.” With that, he leans forward like Hades himself looking down on his subjects. “Irina is perfect dick bait for some foolish man. We will use her to trap a Voskoboynikov, perhaps.” He smirks, rising to his feet. “For now, let’s get Vika married to a Vetrov and be done with her moping around my office hoping I’ll change my mind.”

  He’s insane if he thinks I’ll allow Ven or a Voskoboynikov to get anywhere near my sweet Irina.

  “Maybe Irina will consider my suggestion for her to enter The Games. A Volkov heir has not proven themselves in The Games yet, and Leonid has expressed interest on investing more money and getting his name into the inner circle. Let him prove his commitment.”

  “There’s a son for that now,” I remind him.

  He snorts. “There’s no honor in that diluted blood. He’s a maid’s son. The only honor he brings is dishonor.” With that, he leaves me alone to ponder everything he just laid on me.

  The need to claim Irina burns through my groin. The moment Father is far from my office, I race up the stairs, two at a time, and discover her door is open and she’s lying asleep on the bed for anyone to see.

  I prowl into the room and slam the door closed behind me. She startles awake and her eyes expand. Just like I envisioned, her blonde hair is messy, and her lips swollen. Her fist rubs at her eyes as she squints at me. “Vlad, what is it?”

  “Take off your clothes,” I demand, my tone low and deadly.

  She pulls the covers up to her chest, biting on that succulent fat bottom lip, and shakes her head no. “Diana is going to look at wedding dresses, Vlad. I can’t do this again. It’s wrong.”

  I stalk toward her, loosening my tie and slipping my jacket from my shoulders along the way. I sling my jacket on the chair I slept in last night. She watches my every move with wide, glimmering blue eyes. I love her stare on me. I want every part of her on me. Reaching out, I snag the covers, jerk them away from her body, and toss them on the floor behind me. She rushes away on all fours, scurrying across the bed like a frightened animal trying to escape a predator.

  There is no escape.

  I will always capture her.

  Grasping her ankle, I tug her backwards, forcing her to collapse to her stomach. I wrap the tie around her ankle and shackle her to the bedpost.

  “Vlad, release me,” she demands, and it brings a smile to my lips.

  “No.”

  “I’ll scream,” she threatens.

  “I hope so,” I tease.

  Ripping at her clothes, I tear them from her body. She squeals and fights me, trying to cover herself, but it’s futile. She’s still pantiless from earlier. I forgot I’d stuffed them in my slacks’ pocket. I pull them free and hold them between my teeth while I rip my shirt open and drop it to the floor along with my slacks.

  Her body is trembling all over and the wet arousal shows on the inner thighs. She’s desperate, just like me. I creep my way over her body and rest my cock between her ass cheeks. My chest brushes against her back and I keep myself from crushing her with my elbows.

  “I can’t do this.” Her voice is soft and lacks conviction as she peers shyly over her shoulder at me.

  “Then don’t.”

  Her ass clenches. She’s just as hungry for me as I am her. Sweet Irina doesn’t want to be bad, but her body didn’t get the memo.

  “Vlad…” It’s a breathy moan as I grind into her ass, spreading her cheeks and resting my cock against her forbidden places.

  “If I tell you no and mean it, will you listen?” she asks, but her voice is shaking with need.

  “Of course,” I lie.

  “Then n—” Before she can finish, I stuff her own underwear in her mouth, cutting her off and sending a ripple of pleasure through my own body. She mumbles through the fabric and reaches for them, so I grasp her hands and straddle her, pinning them behind her, resting just above the dimples on her lower back.

  “Shhh,” I whisper, nibbling her earlobe, then kissing down her shoulder. My lips find their way to her spine. Her body relaxes beneath my lips and I smile knowing I’ve won. I loosen her hands and bite her ass cheek as I pass it. Forcing her to her knees, I admire her cute ass and pink cunt that’s now on display. I use my finger to swipe down her center. She’s sopping wet and moans under my touch. Her ass wriggles and squirms, and I can’t stand it any longer.

  I need to be inside her.

  Owning her.

  I dip a finger inside, then another, stretching her walls. I slip them out and into my mouth. Her arousal is potent and delicious as it
washes over my tongue. I pull her hips toward the end of the mattress and line my cock up to her entrance.

  “I know you want this,” I murmur, my tip teasing her wet slit. “You won’t admit it, but your body tells me everything I need to know.”

  I enter her, brutal and fast. She groans around the panties as her body rocks against mine, equally desperate for the connection. I buck my hips into her, my skin slapping hers. Her cunt strangles me, begging for more.

  I’ll give her more.

  I’ll give her everything.

  I squeeze her ass cheek with my hand hard enough to bruise her before pulling it to the side, baring her to me. My thumb strokes against her asshole and I press it past the tight ring just so.

  I want her in every possible way.

  Ass.

  Mouth.

  Everything.

  Mine.

  I slide out of her and relish her whine. Leaning forward, I lick up her ass crease, plundering the tight little hole with my tongue. Her body hums and vibrates as pleasure washes through her. I taste her until she’s quivering, just on the edge of bliss.

  Goddamn, I can’t get enough of her.

  I untie her ankle and flip her over. A perfect flush of red is painted all over her skin. Her blazing blue eyes meet mine. Reaching forward, I tug her panties from her mouth and toss them away. She bites on her lip and gives me such a needy look, I have the urge to spill my seed.

  She’s so damn beautiful.

  “Put my cock in your mouth, my little sun,” I murmur, my fingers running along her naked flesh.

  I expect her to be apprehensive or remind me how she’s not going to do such things with me, but she surprises me. Sweet little Irina is always surprising me. She sits up on her knees, baring her perky tits to me. Her petite hand curls around my girth, squeezing the base and exploring with her eyes.

  “Will it choke me?” she asks, curious and innocent. Her eyes are wide and questioning.

  “I hope so.” I smirk, tipping her jaw open with the pads of my fingers. I wrap the tie around her neck and slowly feed my cock into her mouth. She’s cautious and timid at first, but I give her an encouraging push with one of my hands tangled in her hair and the other tugging on the tie to tighten it.