Page 9 of Darkest Craving

WOLFGANG

W: Hiding from me after what you did, huh?

I text Mikhail as I look for him throughout the house. He’s not in the other wing, not in his room, and no one seems to have seen him.

It’s what he does.

He likes to lurk in the shadows, to make you chase him. He disappears, sometimes for weeks, hanging out with his group of misfits and causing chaos wherever they go.

Only when he gets bored does he ever come out.

And when he does, he’s twice as destructive, twice as difficult to keep in line.

Nothing seems to touch a nerve with him, no matter how many things I threw in his face over the years or how many fights we’ve had.

Instead, he smirks, amuses himself at the world around him, like we’re all puppets in whatever world he conjured for himself in his head.

He’s a dangerous man. And I’m not going to let his behavior with Victoria slide by.

My phone buzzes in my hand, getting my attention.

M: How could I be hiding if I’m right behind you?

I turn, anger flaring through me at the sight of him. He's smirking, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed.

I stalk toward him, his brows rising in pure delight. I don’t think about it. I simply pull my arm back and punch his jaw, a chuckle escaping him after the impact.

“Stay the fuck away from her. Let her be, or next time I hear she’s upset over your stupid games, it won’t end with one punch.”

He straightens himself up, touching his jaw. “It’s so fun to see you pussy-whipped.”

“You think I got her just to fuck her?”

“Nah. We both know why she’s really here. But you want this woman for more than that, don’t you? She’s pretty, got that fire in her veins. Who knows, maybe she’ll be the one to ruin you, and I won’t have to.”

I step forward, and he doesn’t retreat. He looks like he could take another punch, and my fingers itch to make his wish come true.

“You want to ruin me, Mikhail? Then get in line. Or, better yet…” I shrug. “Do something about it. Because the way it’s looking out right now, I’m winning. You’re lost in the fucking crowd.”

I pin him down with my gaze a moment longer, then walk away, his voice carrying over to me one last time.

“Careful, brother. Danger hits harder when it’s hiding in plain sight.”

Back in my wing, I pass by Victoria’s bedroom door, dragging a hand down my face.

My sweet little captive comes back to the front of my mind. And suddenly, my cock starts throbbing against my pants, hard and fucking angry at the denial I’ve enforced on it.

The image of her crying, the camisole strap fallen off her shoulder… Christ . I expected her to be beautiful, but not like this. She looked so soft, so serene under the pale moonlight, giving me a glimpse of her breast.

She’s ravishingly perfect, and the fact that no other man has touched her makes me even more restless. She’s mine, and I get to be the first one—the only one—who taints her innocence.

She thinks I’m too much now? Well, she won’t be thinking that when she’s bouncing on my cock, riding me like the good little equestrian she is.

One day soon, I’ll be her undoing, and she’ll be stretching her holes for me in offering before I even have to ask.

I barge into my room across the hallway, shutting the door behind me with a loud bang.

My palm slaps against the nearest wall, and I rush to take my cock out with the hand I used to swipe the tear off her cheek. I wish I’d tasted her then, but I didn’t, so I could prove a point. She means nothing to me, and her only purpose in all of this is to secure my position against my—

Fuck!

I grunt, stroking my length with harsh, sudden movements, feeling the tendrils of pleasure crawl down my spine and shoot to my cock. I think of her tongue wrapped around me, of her virgin pussy squeezing me tight as I fill her up with all the cum she can take.

Such a good girl—she can be such a good girl for me. And she can be feisty, and I like them both.

“Fucking hell, Victoria,” I mutter, gripping my cock tighter, increasing my pace. “Look what you’re making me do.”

Embarrassingly enough, a few more strokes are all it takes before cum spurts into my fist, coating my hand, smearing the crotch of my slacks. My chest rises and lowers with exhausted breaths as I rush to rid my mind of her image again.

What a nuisance.

I unbutton my shirt, taking off my clothes on the way to the en-suite bathroom. The water is ice cold when I turn on the shower, and I don’t wait until it warms up to walk under the stream. My chest expands further, the coolness pouring down my hot skin doing nothing to regulate my breathing.

At least I can think again.

Minutes pass, and my skin begins to tingle from the severity of the temperature, keeping me grounded to the present. Eventually, I step out, using a towel to shake the excess water from my hair.

The sight of the wall I leaned against minutes ago brings back a flood of blood to my groin, making my cock swell. I clench my jaw, turning to the bed instead, shoving myself under the covers. I can only hope the memory of my soon-to-be wife doesn’t follow me into my dreams.

***

The next morning, I unlock Victoria’s room, expecting to see her either in bed or getting ready for the day. But the bed is empty, the sheets barely rumpled, as if she woke up in the middle of the night and fled.

Impossible, of course, since I locked her up myself. I leave the door open and peer into the attached bathroom, but there’s no sign of her.

What the fuck?

The windows are closed, and there’s no way she could’ve made the jump. And if she did jump, she’d have a broken spine, leg, or arm, at the very least.

There’s no way she’d make it out of the property without one of my men seeing her and alerting me during the night. The only possible conclusions are, either somebody let her out… or she’s hiding right here, in plain sight.

I smile, pretty confident with the latter.

“Good morning, love. You can come out now.”

Still, nothing.

I move around the room, looking for places she’d be able to hide—under the bed, behind her vanity desk, the walk-in closet, and so on.

“Aren’t you a little old to be playing these kinds of games? Come out, Victoria. You’re not a child.” I sigh, pulling the curtains to the side, letting the sunshine in.

Annoyance making its way to my clenching jaw, I walk over to the bathroom to check behind the cupboard there. But maybe she really isn’t here. Maybe Mikhail played me and somehow got the key from Corinne, then let her out. Maybe—

A sharp, almost blinding pain pokes through the side of my abdomen, twisting with obvious hate.

Tendrils of blood seep out, making a warm spot on my shirt.

Flinching, I look down to see a small but polished glass shard lodged in my skin.

Around it, a slender, manicured hand comes into view before it retracts almost as quickly as it struck me.

“I belong to no one,” Victoria says, seething, from her hideaway behind the bathroom door. “And I will win—against you, or anyone. My fucking name proves it, dickhead.”

Before I get any time to react, she whooshes past me, her rushed steps traversing the bedroom and exiting through the door I left open.

Alone and bewildered, I continue to look at the shard, and a laugh erupts from somewhere deep in my chest as I register what just happened.

She stabbed me. She fucking stabbed me.

The pain grows and sharpens with each shake of my shoulders. I pull the glass out of my side with one swift movement and toss it to the white bathroom tiles, sprinkling some of my blood around its perimeter.

“Someone woke up in a bad mood,” I muse.

Shaking my head, I walk out into the hallway, trying to figure out which way she ran.

The house is so massive it’s practically a maze, and it would literally take me hours to find her…

if I hadn’t already noticed a faded, bloodied print on the right wall beside me.

In her frenzy, it’s very unlikely she realized her mistake.

So I take in her direction, patient but steady because I know she’s headed toward a dead end.

I push open every door in my path, and for the most part, they’re empty bedrooms. Two of them, however, lead to Corinne’s suite.

It’s breakfast time, so she’s probably downstairs, setting the table and directing the other staff like she does every morning.

Which means Victoria could’ve easily snuck in there and not get busted by her.

And sure enough, when I open the door and peer inside, my pretty little war prize is on the floor with a phone at her ear, turning in horror to realize she’s been caught.

“So I get stabbed in the back, and someone else gets a sweet phone call? You’re hurting my feelings, Victoria,” I say with false sympathy as I rush to her side, snatching the phone from her.

“Fuck. You !” she yells, standing up, scratching at me with her nails.

I back away, putting the phone to my ear, but hearing no one from the other end. “Who did you speak to?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know!”

I snort, looking at her petite figure, at the way her pretty blue eyes shine with hate and anger. I’ll find out anyway. And when I do, I’ll make sure they’re fucking dead.

Victoria leaps past me, but I wrap my arm around her just in time to catch her midway. I pull her to me, my wound contracting, sending pain everywhere in my body. She gouges at my arm with her nails, puncturing skin, drawing more blood. Smirking through her small victories.

I take a few steps forward with her still thrashing in my arms, then throw her on the bed.

“Enough.”

I tower over her, gripping both wrists above her head. With my other hand, I circle her throat, forcing her to stay still and look at me. Jaw clenched, she bares her teeth, pushing her hips up abruptly, trying to sway me off her. But I’m not going anywhere.

Her body rubs against mine, dragging a deep groan from me when I feel her plump pussy through the thin material of her panties. She’s wearing her birthday dress from yesterday, but it’s ridden up, exposing her to me.

Without thinking, I start rocking into her, gliding my hard-on against her spread-out slit. A soft moan whispers in my ear, and I swear to fucking God she’s arching into me. It’s shy, and barely noticeable, but my cock feels every stroke of her sweet pussy against it.

“Giving up already? I thought winning was in your name.” I lower my head to lick the side of her neck, feeling her pulse pound against my tongue. So fragile.

I bring my lips closer, leaving a soft bite that I know will leave a bruise.

My cock grows harder, and she whimpers, resuming her thrashing under my weight.

The movement makes her chest expand and her breasts brush against me.

She sags again, eyes fluttering closed, her knees parting wider, giving me more access.

“It would be so easy to pull your panties to the side and fuck you raw. Is your pussy nice and wet? Hmm?”

“Oh—” She pants, her hands no longer pushing against mine.

I squeeze her throat, enough for her to open her eyes and acknowledge who’s rubbing her pretty cunt. I want her to know it’s me. Want her to realize she’s letting me take whatever I want from her, even if I choose not to.

“Wolfg—”

“Yes, it’s me, Victoria. And I’m going to make you come.”

I rock into her deeper, longer, ignoring the pull of my own pleasure—of my impending release—as I loosen my grip on her throat and let her sweet little moans fill the air. I laugh to myself realizing there’s another thing she and I have in common.

Because here I am, stabbed and bleeding with my cock pressed against her, and here she is, breathless with her neck bearing the marks of my possession. Pain brings people closer, and it seems ours keeps twisting like two lovers’ fingers lacing together for the first time.

Then her legs twitch around my body, and her sensitive pussy remains still, taking my strokes like a good little plaything.

Her face scrunches, eyes fluttering closed, a throttled cry echoing in my ear as she arches her back away from the mattress beneath her.

I release my grip on her wrists, bringing my hand between us, pulling her panties to the side and touching the proof of her arousal.

She moans louder, head twisting to the side, hair spread out in all directions.

She’s so fucking erotic right now, coming undone by my hand. I can’t help but praise her.

“You are exquisite. And this pussy—” I push my finger against her entrance, “ Christ. Look at the mess you made all over my hand.”

My last words seem to wake her up from her trance.

She pushes her hands into my chest with a puff, and I let her, rolling to the side so she can get up.

And when she does, her baby-blue eyes are thunderous—no longer hooded, no longer hiding beneath the veil of pleasure she was so desperate to lose herself into just moments ago.

She’s all flushed, pink cheeks, swollen lips, and all.

“This changes nothing. ” She huffs, pulling a fallen strap back up on her shoulder.

I stand up, dusting myself off as I face her and smile. “You’re right. It doesn’t. You’ll still be my wife, and you’ll continue to drip on my fingers like a needy little slut.”

She throws me a cold smile in return.

“You forgot the part where I’ll never love you.”

“I’ve been hated all my life, Victoria. It’s what I know. In fact, the only way you might be able to get my guard down is if you did, somehow, end up loving me.”

She scoffs, and it’s all the confirmation I need.

“That’s what I thought. Now, tell me, love… who the fuck did you call?”