Page 59 of Viripotent

He attacks my neck with barely-there kisses, his lips and teeth only adding to my frustration of not enough.

“Good girl, stay quiet and I’ll continue.”

He pulls on my hair, forcing my neck to extend further as the melting ice drips from the corner of my lips to my cheek and down my jaw.

My eyes close as he chases the droplet with his tongue, and I clench my thighs around him as he bites into my jaw, breathing out, “Meelaya.”

The usual sarcastic undertone is missing, and I want it to be true. For the endearment to have a meaning. There’s another sharp tug on my hair, causing more of the water to drip from my lips on the other side and a pathetic low moan vibrates around the small remnant of ice cube left between my lips as he kisses the pit of my neck. His stubble scrapes my chest and follows up my throat as he does the same act of meeting the droplet with his tongue.

They meet below my jaw and my hand whips out holding his side as he lightly sucks on the sensitive skin. A low dark laughvibrates into my throat making my breath shake as he makes his way back to my lips. He leans over me, his shoulders strong and that twisted smile on his face isn’t annoying.

“Would my bride like another drink?”

I should say no, or yes then spit it in his face, but I don’t. I nod weakly and that smile widens as he lifts the tumbler to it. He doesn’t look away from me as he takes a sip and slowly lowers it to his side.

Oh fuck, I’m going to be ruined without his dick even leaving his boxers. He maintains the slow torturous pace as he lines his lips over mine leaving the smallest gap and tightens his fist around my hair, so I can’t close it. My lips part, the ice dropping against my tongue, and he doesn’t just allow the vodka to float into my mouth, he forcefully spits it like a fountain. Why the fuck do I like this?

His eyes darken as he stares at my lips and roughly orders, “Do not swallow.”

Fuck him. I’m going to strain my neck in this position and he’s not actually touching me, so I’m getting rid of one frustration before I can run upstairs and deal with the other. My gulp is audible, and I manage to croak out around his hold tightening on my hair, “Whoops, I was thirsty.”

There’s a glimmer of pride before he pushes it away and I quickly add.

“Men usually love a woman who swallows, is that a trait you don’t share, lapachka?”

His features darken and my limbs go limp.

My throat turns dry as Vlad takes half a step closer to me and becomes menacing.

“Which fuckingmenhave you met?”

I like this even more and ignore the way my neck begins to twitch. He notices it and softens his hold on my hair a fraction. My answer is soft, gentle, unlike the man who hears it.

“I forgot all of their names, get the phone book and we’ll start crossing them off.”

This is his fault for treating me like a whore for years and saying I need to be broken in, I’m not a pair of boots that will nip his ankles.

Ice clinks as he drops the tumbler beside my thigh. The clinking continues in the background of his deep threat.

“Trust me Inessa, I’ll cross their fucking names out of history. Play this game with me and you’ll be responsible for the reduction of the world’s population.”

I knew he liked me. Vlad is threatening murder in my name, which by his standards means that I hold importance in his warped brain. I can’t contain my glee and smile up at him as I stroke up his abs, suppressing a moan.

“I was only doing what my wonderful fiancé told me to.”

He scoffs and shakes his head.

A whimper gets stuck in my throat as an icy wet trail moves up my thigh and my muscles loosen, giving him space. He doesn’t step back but widens his thighs stopping me from moving as I tug on his belt.

“Answer the question, meelaya.”

The ice cube traces over my leg until it’s moving up my inner thigh. Cupping the back of my head as my back arches, he allows me to see him fully and the skirt of my dress is resting on his wrist as he slowly marks a path up.

His eyes are nearly black and the air freezes in my lungs when he flicks his eyes up, staring into my lust-filled brain. I shake as the cold mixes with my heat over my panties. I have to tense every muscle in my body to stop from climaxing when he’s barely touched me. The smug bastard smirks and taunts me, “How’s my success rate so far?”

The smirk has my anger mixing with lust and frustration. making me snap, “I’ve had better.”

He drops the ice cube to the floor, and he teases his thumb over my clit. The silk separating us does nothing to dull the sensation, a fake moan mixes with a real one and he grips my throat trying to stop me.

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