Wild Billionaire Romance - Chapter 12: Chapter 12

ADRIK
It almost killed me staying away all day. The temptation to barge in on her and rip her from whatever she was doing just so I could feel her mouth on mine, her skin against my sin, hear her whimpers and swallow her cries was so damn strong, I spent an extra hour working out just to control the impulse.
Then, it was a matter of not texting or calling her. A true test of my control, you might say. That I wound up breaking my phone to refrain from using it, I would not mention to anyone else. Andres had no problem replacing it within the hour, which was how I’d spent the remainder of the afternoon. Waiting on the Apple Store to deliver their latest and greatest.
Not that I had to wait. But I did have to stay away from Sofia. For my own sanity’s sake. Fuck, how I thought of that woman. All day long. What was she doing? Did she miss me like I missed her?
The pair of panties I’d plucked from her body the night before were still in my pocket. I’d touched them through the day, squeezing the lacy softness and lifting them to my face so I could smell her sweet pussy while I pretended to concentrate on work.
Volkov Industries was a well-oiled machine that required little interference. But I was the president. The head. And nothing happened without my knowledge or approval. So yes, I was distracted, but I got the job done. Marat came in sometime after lunch and bombarded me with a barrage of questions about Sofia. But she was not his business. She was mine. Mine alone.
I arrived back, dressed in my tux having changed in the office, at ten to four. I wanted to knock down the door to the bedroom she’d claimed as her own, but I forced myself to have a drink instead. Good thing, too. Because when Sofia finally walked out of the bedroom dressed in silk as silver as moonlight, it was all I could do not to drop to my knees, toss my head back and howl for her like the goddess she was.
The velvet coat she dragged behind her looked soft as her skin, warm, too, which was good. It was freezing outside. I would not want her cold. Remembering the state of her frigid apartment caused anger to rise in my veins, but I pressed it down. My people had already dealt with most of the issues on that property and her grandmother’s. When she went back—fuck. I did not like to think about that. When her time with me was over.
“Are you ready?” she asked, her soft voice sifting through the air, breaking my train of thought.
“Da, Zaika.”
I held out my arm, and she stepped forward, pausing to shrug on the velvet coat. My cock hardened as I stared, watching the way the silk clung to her shapely form. I frowned hard. I should not have asked her to wear that dress outside of my penthouse. She looked far too good in it.
The silk clung to her curves like a second skin. Her nipples pressed against the fabric, and I wondered if it felt good to her. I wanted to test it out for myself. To rub the expensive fabric over her mounds and her cleft, to see if she was as wet for me now as I was hard for her. But I needed to wait to sate my hunger till after this pretentious dinner party. I could not touch her then bring her there. Could not risk having others witness the serene look on her face that always came after she did. Her post orgasm expressions were mine. I did not share. Not ever.
So, I steeled my face, refusing to show expression as we rode the elevator to the limo waiting below. The ride to the Castle estate would be long. But worth it. The quicker we got this over with, the quicker I would have her back in my arms. In my bed. And perhaps tonight she would stay the whole night. The possibility made me eager. I looked forward to the challenge of it.
I did not notice at first, so caught up in my own desires, that my Zaika was unusually quiet. I attempted small talk, trying to draw her out. But other than one worded answer and polite smiles, she did not engage. It was unusual, and my frown deepened. It took over an hour to drive out to Long Island, and the entire time, she avoided eye contact with me.
Did something happen that I was not privy to? Something to make her go quiet? I frowned hard. If there was a problem, I wanted to know, needed to fix it. It was not a look I liked on my otherwise bubbly Sofia. It bothered me she did not come to me with her problem. If there was one. My brain was now fixated on this.
Sofia usually talked my head off with little bite-sized facts about this or that. She was full of questions. Like a walking, talking inquisition. She was relentless, prying information from me like pearls from oysters. I did not share world secrets, but I did not mind talking about things I did. I was not ashamed of who I was. And she should know exactly who was fucking her each night. Her brain was active, her imagination, too. And I loved learning about what made her tick. Fuck. I should not be using that word. This was temporary. Still, I could not help it. My obsession was growing, not getting better.
I took my new phone from my breast pocket and sent a text to Josef. He was the head of security, and though I ordered the cameras in the guest bedroom to be turned off for the duration of her stay, the rest of the house, save my bedroom, was completely wired. Something must have happened to my Zaika to make her this quiet shell of herself.
My phone buzzed as the driver pulled up to the Castle estate where instead of a private dinner party the man was hosting a goddamned party. I waited till we were standing in the receiving line indoors to look at what Josef sent me. Pictures of my brother’s smiling face and my Zaika laughing at something he said filled my screen, and I felt rage building inside my blood.
Fury. Jealousy. And some other choice emotions rolled through me as we moved up in line to where a woman in black stood to take our coats.
“Adrik?” Sofia said my name, and I looked up.
My fury must have been clear on my face if her reaction was anything to go by. She moved back a step, like the frightened bunny I once thought she was. Her velvet eyes darted left and right, but who could save her from me? It would have been laughable if I wasn’t shaking with my rage.
Had my brother seduced my Zaika while I worked myself into a lathering sweat just to stay away? I needed to know. But now was not the time or place. It had happened rarely where Marat had been interested in one of my castoffs. But he always asked permission first. Always made sure I was okay with it. This I was not okay with. This I might hurt him for. Or worse.
Killing my brother was off the table. But with a face like that, perhaps he could afford to lose a limb. A finger? A hand? It would depend on what he did. The thought of his hands on her soft, pale skin had me picturing the horrible things I would do to him, or to anyone who dared touch her while she was mine.
Hell. If I was going to keep this madness to myself, then I could admit in my own head that I was almost certain my obsession with Zaika would not be quenched soon. If ever.
Unhinged.
The word flashed in my brain like a neon sign. Or one of those digital billboards in Times Square. Yes. Perhaps I was unhinged.
If I was contemplating maiming my brother while accepting a glass of whiskey from a passing server, then yes, I would say unhinged was an apt description. Sofia took a glass of champagne, smiling tightly as she looked around the room. It was full of men and women who were part of the establishment. I recognized many of the faces but did not bother saying hello or making introductions when they were bold enough to approach us.
My fingers itched to touch her. To feel her body trembling beneath the moonlight silk she wore, but I did not trust myself to stop there. I burned for her. Wanted to impale her on my cock and remove the stain of my brother’s hands on her skin.
Perhaps if I touched another, if I held another woman, fucked someone else, maybe then I would not feel that insane jealousy. I could do that there. I could crook my finger and have any woman in the vicinity willing to drop her panties for me in front of the whole fucking crowd. Did Sofia not understand that?
Maybe, I thought as I walked towards the dance floor. Just maybe it was time to teach her who I was. Wolf not man. Bastard, not just billionaire.
I heard Sofia walking beside me, her heels clicking on the marble tiles, creating a seductive tattoo that pounded inside my brain. There was a live band playing, and people writhing on the floor. Society’s elite, I scoffed.
“Wait here,” I ordered, not bothering to look at Sofia while I grabbed the hand of a scantily clad woman.
Yes, some of the women were hired to be there. Professionals. Escorts. And this one, I recognized. Her flashy red nails looked gauche against my black jacket, and her perfume was cloying, burning my nostrils. But I pulled her into my body, holding her tight as I danced her across the floor. I needed to prove to Sofia I did not depend on her. She needed to be reminded of her place. Or maybe it was me who needed to be reminded.
I looked up, not surprised to see she’d left. I stepped away from the woman I’d been dancing with and hunted my Zaika across the floor. A flash of silver caught my eye, and I watched her scurry into the ladies’ room, a snarl on my lips as I followed.
“Adrik! Glad you could make it, old boy.”
Matthew Castle stopped my progress with his hand outstretched. I glared at it before I remembered where I was and what I was there for. Clearing my throat, I took his hand and gave it a hard shake that left the weaker man noticeably paler.
“Castle,” I replied, nodding at the woman beside him.
It was his sister. Missy Castle. Her eyes roamed over me like I was a piece of meat, and I wanted to snap at her to keep her eyes in her head, but I refrained. Upsetting my host was not a good idea, especially when it was his company I needed.
“I thought this was a dinner party,” I said.
“Yes, well, it was supposed to be, but my dear sister thought this might be better. After all, you Russians like a good party, no?”
“I am American, now, Matthew. Even when I was living in Russia, I was only half,” I said, giving away just enough to shock the man into silence.
I knew he’d been digging into my past, looking for a way to blackmail me into sweetening the deal. Truth was, regardless of how old and prominent their family name, Matthew Castle was grossly in debt. CoreTech was the last thing he had of value. I was not trying to swindle him, but I would not be blackmailed by anyone.
Foolish man did not know what I really was before the designer suits, limousines, and penthouses. The word mafia had been tossed around, but that word did not apply. I was not part of a gang or a crime family. Never had been What I had gained in life, position, money, power, was all of my own making. Any criminal activity I had been involved in was for me and Marat, my brother, who I really needed to talk to.
Mobsters owed fealty to someone, something higher than themselves. In my world, there was no one higher. I was no mobster. I was worse than that.