CHAPTER 49
CHRISTIAN ‘VICIOUS’ VOLKOV.
My dick half mast, a knife digging at my skull and her scent so derogatory I don’t give a hoot about the bloody date, I give her a head start.
Allowed her a two-minute sprint before I chased her.
Her ass comes to sight in that plaid skirt that does no justice to the ass beneath it.
I know that ass, I have felt that ass in my palm and damn, if it isn’t the most perfect ass on the planet.
I tell her to run watching her eat that dose of bullshit she’s trying to feed herself.
She knew my identity thanks to one of my men who had told her about it and even then she knew I was going to go after those fuckers, she knew I had beef with her ex, she knew I was going to avenge her but that didn’t mean the brat accepted it.
She said she didn’t want to do this.
Then why are you running, little nurse?
Why do your eyes keep looking back, straying to see if the monster can keep up?
Why do those blue eyes of yours whirl with anticipation every time you see me chase after you?
The truth was in this fucked update though.
Alexia Green had never been chased her whole life. Not by a man anyway.
Not by a deserving man and hell if I was a deserving man but I was going to chase her.
No, scratch that, here I am chasing her.
Feeding her thrill.
Showing her if chasing her around turned her on then I’ll go to a marathon for her.
She doesn’t stop.
Add in the wind, the sand, her hair flying out of that bun and she looks like Aphrodite learning the ropes of ensnaring men.
The little minx takes off her sandals before she sprints up the marbled pathway to my mansion.
I still chase.
Because that’s how far gone I am.
Her hand touches the oak exterior of the door before she opens it, getting in and closing it behind her.
I take my time. My sweet time enjoying this little game of hers. Knowing pretty well the repercussions of her actions, of her filthy little lies end in one way.
Her pussy is mine.
Her puffy lips mine to devour the whole night.
Fun thing is, it’s just her, me and a whole lot of furniture in that house we can break.
My feet land on the porch, I breathe her scent in the air and it’s like a spritz of energizing oxygen, like a dose of petrol to the already churning fire inside me.
I touch the knob twisting it, slowly shoving the door with my shoulder and the crystal palace that would have been Catelina’s birthday gift if she were still alive greets me on the way in.
Old Volkov would have never stepped foot here because of grief.
New and definitely stupid Volkov doesn’t feel a thing other than the uncanny obsession with the blonde with a sassy mouth that drives me crazy.
Grief feels like an old forgotten feeling. I loved my sister and right now, that’s what I feel as I traverse the mansion.
I loved her. I have no feelings of guilt or rage, but love. Catelina was gone and that…that was in the past.
I pass by the foyer, the two grand staircases greeting me on the way in.
The nurse’s scent hangs low in the air but what gives her up is the shuffling of feet from the kitchen and the otherwise trail of sand on the floor that also goes to the kitchen.
Easy prey. I mentally chuckle.
When I get to the kitchen, she’s nowhere in sight but I can hear her. Hear her little breaths, hear her small doubts creeping in her head.
Thanks to Nico who planned this whole thing, a bottle of Macallan awaits me on the counter and I snag it pouring myself a glass.
The liquid churns my throat but I dunk it all down.
“You want to run and hide, then be better at it, sunshine. You want to be hunted, then be better at being prey. A better
prey doesn’t breathe so loud I can fucking hear her moan in the air. A better prey doesn’t…you are wet, tesoro. I can smell it in the air, I can practically lick those wet thighs with how slick they sound.
“You want to play? Let’s play.”
I place my glass down, I narrow around in the kitchen island.
“Behind the door? You are too smart for that.”
I still check behind the kitchen door, slamming it to fright the little thing from her hideout.
“In the counters? You are too sexually frustrated to tolerate hours locked in an enclosed space.”
“You are somewhere with space, aren’t you? Somewhere where you would sneak your hand between your legs without making a sound. Somewhere you would rub what’s mine and muffle your voice chasing your own pleasure.
Does it hurt? By any means tell me because I made a promise, sunshine. Nothing’s gonna hurt when I’m here. Well except from pleasure and that’s dependent on you.”
I pass by the pantry, the patting sounds of my shoes warning her I’m too close to catch her.
I know where she’s hiding and for the sake of it, I give her time to think she’s won.
She makes another sound, I chuckle.
Knowing her she probably called me an asshole like usual. Knowing her she’s probably frustrated at herself and at me.
“What will it be, tesoro? You come out or I get you and if I get you, your pussy is my endgame. I’ll take that sweet thing, I’ll want you on my face, spread out, open to me so I can lick every damn inch of that sweetness off of you.”
“One.”
She doesn’t come out. I smile.
“Two.”
Not even a peep of her golden hair.
I don’t get to three though. I don’t think I have the patience for it and neither does my dick.
My hands grip the rail that acts as a door handle to the pantry and grabbing it open, sunshine blonde hair, a pair of pleasure filled blue eyes gaze at me.
“Christian”, she breathes.
I stretch my arm out for her.
“Come here.”
Barefooted, knees shaking, eyes dilating with lust, Alexia walks to me and she’s even sexier than before.
Always sexy.
“Please”, her bottom lip quivers, I catch her chin.
“Please what?”
“Make love to me.”
“No.”
“W—what?”
“I fuck, Alexia, and I do it hard. Making love isn’t in my MO but that doesn’t mean I won’t rut senselessly into you for making me chase you.”
“Y-you told me to run.”
“I never told you to hide though.”
“I-I-.”
“I want the skirt off, I want everything off of you, I want you on this counter, legs spread showing me how you would have touched yourself if I didn’t find you. Right now, sunshine.”
I take a step away.
The urge to kiss her lips is stronger but seeing her climax takes the cake.
“I don’t want to be the only one stripping. If I strip, then you strip.”
“Make yourself come and for every orgasm, I’ll strip.”
“Promise?”
I don’t do promises.
Yet for her-.
“I promise.”
Seeing her strip is my favorite pastime but seeing all of her? Call me the Biblical Samson because I would gladly let her shave my hair away.
My sweet fucking Delilah.
She’s pretty everywhere. Pink flowery nipples, full tits, gorgeous curves add in that killer face and I got myself one hell of a firecracker.
I lean against the fridge, I watch her ass slap the counter, her ass in the air, her legs spread apart as her elbows rest on the marble top of my kitchen island.
“You are not just wet, little nurse. You are soaking wet and need me. Show me how that cunt likes me.”
Shy at first, she cups herself with her hand before her thumb swirls over and around her gleaning clit, lapping her juices, her whimpers shuddering with how fast and beckoning her tight little hole calls to me.
Her eyes on me, her chest heaving, one of her fingers hovering over her hole and the minute she pushes inside creating a picture worth a million words, I myself lose control.
I never lose control.
But with her? That control looks like a bunch of socks I keep losing every time she’s around.
I don’t care about the rules, as soon as her finger is inside her hole. My pants are already off, my shirt, briefs and suit following.
One lengthy stride and I’m in front of her, holding her hand controlling the rhythm.
She holds onto my shoulders.
I take her lips, I take her moans, I take everything she has to offer savagely like a caveman who’s learned how good meat is with fire.
The minute she withdraws her hand from her core, my dick swoops in.
She’s wet enough. She can take it.
I sink into her with one thrust.
The problem of sticking your hand into a jar of Nutella however? One lick isn’t enough.
Having her once tonight will not be enough.