Page 82 of Viripotent

He never asks me about my day, it’s always shut your mouth and move your feet.

Shrugging instead of answering because that’s my new method of communication, I steal one of Vitali’s smoothies. Vlad moves in my periphery, and I straighten my spine, readying for whatever mental warfare he’s going to let loose. He doesn’t give me any space, herding me like I’m a lost lamb and pressing into my back, so I’m caged in against the counter.

He flattens his palm on my sternum before moving my hair over my shoulder and speaks against my ear.

“I couldn’t get you to shut up and now I can’t get you to speak. Where has the queen gone?”

She’s gone mad being surrounded by the devil.

Shrugging, again, because that’s all I’m capable of when nothing makes sense, his laugh brushes my shoulder.His scent envelops me, clouding my senses and the warmth of his palm radiates through my skin into my chest.

This Vlad is the same one I declared we’d become friends, the other one is too menacing and they’re like distant cousins. The resemblance is there, but they’re not the same. My entire body freezes in shock at the apology in his tone.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. It won’t happen again, use my gift to make it easier.”

I’m the one who pushed back, and his stupidly big dick hit my cervix and made me feel like I was being tore in two. I’m glad I didn’t see it before he attempted to fuck me, or I would have run. Everything about him is violent, his dick is no different. My thighs clench together at the memory of the swollen head and how heavy it was. It morphs into an image of him wrapping his big, inked hand around his length.

His hand moves further up my chest until he palms my neck and I think I’ve been caught, until he makes everything ten times worse.

“Once you’ve loosened yourself up with the smaller sizes, we can try again.”

Rather than face my embarrassment, I nod and stare out at the pool.His heat is surrounding me, his chest is at my back lightly pushing into me with every breath he takes, and I stupidly take half a step back, feeling him harden against my ass.

I’m abruptly turned, and he lifts me to sit me on the counter. Vlad doesn’t let me escape and steps between my legs, holding my thighs, and tilting his head to catch my eyes.

“Something has happened. Was it Anika? Len?”

He’s too fucking perceptive and I shake my head, watching his anger rise.His thumbs disappear under the hem of my dress, each one moving independently to tap in his usual rhythm of threes. Every little tap feels like a secret that needs to be protected and he doesn’t end when he reaches nine. He always does it in the same sequence — three, three, three. But he keeps going, the pace increasing with every repetition.

My voice is too small, giving him a partial truth, knowing this is the lesser of what’s inside my head.

“It’s humiliating for you to talk about me like I’m a pair of new boots.”

The tapping stops and I stroke his lapels because I still like touching him and I’m clearly a fool. His smirk is wicked and chases everything away as he leans into me and makes an offer that has my cheeks heating.

“Do you want me to do it for you?”

My legs try to close, remembering the pain and the bastard laughs.

He presses his cheek into mine, his deep whisper is in my ear, and I relax.

“I knew you were a princess.”

It’s normal again and I lightly push at his shoulders, tilting my head back to correct him.

“Queen.”

His smile gets wider, and I can breathe with the usual asshole Vlad being here.He’s not the cruel person I witnessed, he’s teasing in his own obnoxious way. Vlad takes a step closer and speaks against my lips.

“Hmm, if you’re a queen that means you definitely shouldn’t do it yourself.”

He bands an arm around my lower back, and my legs automatically wrap around his waist as I hold his shoulders so I don’t fall. It’s not because I like feeling him or so he has to pull the hem of my dress down to stop my ass being out. Those are just happy extras. He doesn’t set me on my feet as he takes long strides to the breakfast table to lay me on it. It’s instinctual to sit up with it being drilled into my head by Dariya that it’s bad luck to sit on a table.

Flattening his palm on my chest to stop me, I repeat what I heard through my childhood.

“The table is for eating.”

My entire body melts as he traces a path from my thigh to my face and I’m on fire with the deep voice.

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