Page 7 of Poisoned Vows

“Fine.” Marika shoves the door open, stepping to one side. “But you better not be lying to me.”

I roll my eyes at her and stalk out of the room.

The entire situation has me wound tight. I’m being offered something that few men would refuse. An innocent girl, entirely untouched, to do with as I please. To doanythingI want with, and her refusal, if it came, wouldn’t matter. She would be mine.

I can’t pretend the thought doesn’t excite me. Not the violence inherent in that, but the idea of divesting this girl, whoever she is, of her innocence. I don’t even know what she looks like yet, but I don’t doubt that she’s beautiful. That would be enough. And she would be all mine, for as long as I pleased.

I can feel myself getting hard as I stride back to my room to change, just at the thought, aching for a girl I haven’t even seen yet and have no intention of taking for my own. The idea of it—

I’ve gotten tired of fawning women who can’t wait to fuck the billionaire heir to Chicago’s most dangerous Bratva family, women who salivate and open their lips and legs for the idea of letting a killer fuck them raw. I’ve gotten tired of whores, too; the women I can pay to willingly let me enjoy the darker things I crave from time to time. There’s no novelty in it any longer. It’s begun to feel hollow, unfulfilling.

I don’t want to hurt this girl. Not really. I have my kinks, but the women I enjoy them with submit willingly. A man like me, one steeped in violence and blood, has to have a code. A line he won’t cross, or he becomes nothing but a monster. A sociopath.

Shoving open the door to my room, I try to push the idea of her out of my head. The picture of full lips opened for my cock, wide, pleading eyes looking up at me as I push myself into her mouth. The sound of a sweet voice begging as I slide into her tight, virgin pussy for the first time, begging for me to stop at first, and then tonotstop, once I show her just how good it can be. And later, her ass—

I could take every part of her. Exercise every filthy desire and fantasy I’ve ever had. I could open up an entire world of pleasures to her, show her how deep the darkness can go, and howgoodit can be at the bottom of that deep well. But first, I’d have to overcome her resistance.

And that’s where the fantasy stops, because she wouldn’t be with me willingly, and I can’t reconcile that.

Every other woman I’ve ever shown that darkness has begged for it—but only because they hoped that if they pleased me, I’d reward them…with money, with connections, or for the most delusional, my hand in marriage. Rarely because they truly wantedme.

This girl would be no different,I remind myself, rubbing my palm over the stiff outline of my cock.She would submit because she’s being forced to. Not because she desires you.

My cock throbs under my hand, and I unbutton my shirt with the other, still stroking myself on the outside of my trousers. It does little to relieve the ache, but I have time. And I intend to go into this meeting with a clear head, rather than a stubborn hard-on like a teenage boy touching a pair of tits for the first time.

I’ll accept my father’s offer, of course. I’ll take the girl away and keep her until enough time has passed, without touching her. And then I’ll give her some money and set her free.

A little rabbit in a trap that the wolf will choose not to eat.

God, I bet she’d taste fucking delicious, though.

My mouth waters at the thought of that, of tying her to the bed and teasing her to her first orgasm with my tongue, listening to her beg for it untilIgrant her her pleasure. I toss my bloodied shirt aside, striding into the bathroom as I unzip my trousers and free my aching cock.

I’m already stroking it by the time I step under the hot spray of water in the shower, thumb pressing into the swollen head as I groan. I haven’t moved past the fantasy of eating this girl’s virgin pussy, and I can almost taste it on my tongue; how sweet she’d be. How eager, once she discovered that pleasure.

What she looks like is a blur in my head. Blonde, brunette, redhead, it doesn’t matter. I can almost feel the softness of her skin under my hands, the way she’d arch up, grinding against my tongue, begging. The quick thrum of her clit, the flood of arousal over my tongue as she comes. My cock drips pre-cum against my hand, my hips thrusting into my fist as I imagine it.

She’d be frightened once she realized what came next. I have no delusions that I’m anything but large. She’d be more than a little afraid of my cock, but I let myself indulge that idea, picturing her wide-eyed fright as I line it up against her virgin entrance, too thick for her, even with her arousal easing the way. I have no intention of acting on the fantasy, of allowing myself that. It’s only that, a fantasy—the squeak of terror as I push against her, stretching her, that wide-eyed moment of pain before I allow her to adjust. My little rabbit, caught in a trap, with no choice but to submit.

Fuck.I don’t get past that image, her full lips parted on a mingled cry of fear, pain, and the beginnings of pleasure as I push my too-big cock into her untouched pussy. I spasm in my fist, a spray of cum hitting the shower wall as my hips jerk, my fingers curling against the tile where I’ve braced myself as I thrust into nothing, imagining a tight, clenching pussy around my cock instead. Imagining how good she would feel as I filled her up with my cum.

I feel almost dizzy as the last drops of cum spill from my cock, my fingers stroking along the shaft as I squeeze the last of it out, wanting myself drained dry. I want a clear head when I meet this girl. I want no chance that I might betray my own moral code, the only vestiges of humanity that I have left to cling to in a world that demands I be a monster for the sake of power and family.

If I hurt her, I’ve become exactly like my father. I’ve tried all my life to keep from being that. I have no intention of letting one woman break me.

My head does feel clearer, as the pleasure ebbs. I finish showering, stepping out, and drying myself off, choosing a suit for the evening’s meeting. My father will expect nothing less than perfection from me—the impeccable heir that he’s raised, sophistication and elegance, brutality and violence, all wrapped into one perfectly honed man.

I don’t see Marika again as I go downstairs, and I’m glad. I don’t want to listen to another of her lectures, not when I’m focused on the night ahead. All I have to do is convincingly accept the offer, and then I can stash the girl away in one of my apartments, out of sight and out of mind, until enough time has passed that I can send her away.

I stride down the hall to my father’s study. It’s a heavily masculine room—mahogany bookshelves, another long mahogany desk, a gilded bar cart, and leather wing chairs next to a fireplace. He’s in front of the unlit fireplace now, sipping a glass of vodka as he stands facing away from me. He doesn’t look up as I walk in, and I go to pour myself my own drink, not bothering to wait to be invited.

He says nothing about that, either. Slowly, he turns to face me as the bottle of vodka clinks against the crystal, and I see a contemplative look in his eyes.

“Narokov and his daughter are being brought to us now.” He narrows his eyes at me. “I’ve considered taking her for myself after all. An offer like this is so tempting. But I can have any virgin daughter I like. I could command any of my men to give up their daughters to me, and they would, for fear of me. It’s more interesting to give her away to someone that she doesn’t expect, don’t you think?”

I’m not sure what game my father is playing at, but I nod.

“You’ve never asked for anything like that.” He takes a sip of his vodka, appraising me. “You could have any of them as well. You are thepakhan’s son. Is that not something you crave? A virgin at your beck and call? A girl ordered to go to your bed? It’s a singular pleasure.”

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