Page 22 of Wilt

Maybe I took things too far, fingering her like that, forcing her to finish in a room full of strangers. I want it known that she’s mine, that I have my enemy’s daughter. She enjoyed every second I fucked her with my fingers, too. No, it’s that I’m so fucking turned on, I’m uncomfortable. I fuckingwanther. I’m going to have her eventually, in all the ways there are.

But not yet.

That’s why I sent her up with Mia. She looks small, meek, but she’s married to Tony, my biggest muscle on staff. People overlook him, write him off as brawn. That’s a mistake. He’s fucking smart, my longest friend, and the most loyal among us. Mia is just like Tony, which is why they work as a pair. She runs this house, picks the staff for more than just theircleaning abilities. I think the maid is more scared of invoking Mia’s wrath than mine.

I didn’t want another male touching Rose, so Mia was the logical choice.

Rose’s dress and heels are on the end of my king-sized bed, courtesy of Mia. Rose, on the other hand, is locked up and free to wear the slip or be naked.

There’s a knock at my door and Rush lets himself in, his tie askew, jacket God knows where. He doesn’t say anything, just moves to my bar cart and pours himself a drink.

Leaning against the wall and taking a sip of his whiskey, he smirks at me over the glass. “Really, dude? At the party?”

I roll my eyes. “Watch it, Rush. Not in the mood, not even for you.”

He sprawls in the chair opposite and palms his glass. “Yeah, okay, sorry. But… really?”

“What?”

“I was there. You fingered her.” Rush just looks at me, like I did somethingwrong. “Don’t know who else worked it out, but it was pretty fucking obvious to me. They all probably worked out who she is, and—"

“I was there,” I say quietly, interrupting his rant. “You don’t need to give me a play-by-play.”

Rush runs his hand over his chin. I take a large swallow of my drink, trying to take the edge off the need that’s running rampant through me. I’m trying not to think of how the cure for this aching need is upstairs, wearing nothing but a slip, more sheer, thinner than the last.

Fuck. I drain my glass, leaning forward to the coffee table where the whiskey bottle sits to fill my glass again. I take another deep swallow, which Rush takes as an opportunity to speak again.

“This is dangerous, Nikolai.”

I grunt my acknowledgement. “I’m aware.”

“Are you? Because you really got off on that.”

I half smile. “Quite the opposite, actually. She got off, not me.”

“Du— Nikolai. Shit.” He takes a sip and sits forward, elbows resting on his knees. “I know we’ve talked about this, but now that you’ve set this in motion, I gotta ask—”

“No, you don’t.”

His eyes narrow. “What’re your plan for this girl? She’s innocent, and we both know it.”

I sit forward too, meeting his glare head on. “So was your mother.”

“Nikolai,” he sighs, taking a deep swallow of his drink while I do the same. “You can’t kill her.”

I snort in defiance. “Why not?”

“I’m sure there’s some New Testament line about two wrongs, or something.”

I laugh. “More Old Testament, if we’re going with bible references, which is weird.” I don’t believe in a God, and I sure as shit don’t believe in good. I’ve clawed my way up from the bottom, and I have my own code of honor, one where neither a church or its teachings are involved.

He has a point about killing her, though. I know, I toyed with the idea, but that was in pure anger. When it comes down to it, killing an innocent girl? With a shrug, I sip my drink. “I probably won’t kill her.”

“Probably?”

I roll my eyes, loath to give a firm committal. “Since when are you so interested in what I do?” There’s a warning in my voice, which, if I know Rush, will be ignored.

He tops up his drink and leans his hand on his thigh as he looks at me. “Since you started kidnapping beauty queens.”

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