Lingering Thirst

VIKTOR

I stared at the glowing white screen of my laptop, dragging a heavy, frustrated hand over my tense jawline. Val was gone. She had stepped out of the room, leaving me stranded behind the massive mahogany desk in my home office. I was trying to force my brain to process the dense financial reports in front of me. I needed to work. I needed to scrub the lingering image of her flush cheeks and swollen lips out of my mind.

The intoxicating taste of her mouth was currently ruining my ability to focus on anything else. I never lost my iron grip on reality like this. Business had always come first. Work kept my dark impulses grounded, and nothing ever possessed the power to infiltrate my headspace once I started crunching numbers. But right now, I was a wreck over a twenty-year-old girl. A young woman whom I was strictly supposed to protect and treat like a daughter.

I gripped the leather armrests of my executive chair, my knuckles turning white. I could still vividly feel the soft, yielding curve of her ass filling my rough palm. I could still hear that high, breathy, sweet moan tearing from the back of her throat when I squeezed her flesh. Fuck. My own cock gave a hard throb against the zipper of my trousers just thinking about it. If she moaned that beautifully just from a rough kiss and a handful of ass, what kind of filthy sounds would she make if I pushed her bare thighs wide apart on my desk? The thought of burying my face between her pale legs, sliding my tongue deep inside her dripping wet pussy, and eating her out until she writhed and screamed my name was threatening to snap my self-control in half.

My cell phone loudly chimed against the polished wood of my desk, snapping me out of my degenerate, inappropriate fantasy. I let out a heavy breath. I was relieved for the sudden interruption, because what the hell was I allowing myself to think about? I reached across the paperwork and grabbed the black device.

It was an unknown number. I narrowed my eyes at the blank screen, my instincts instantly flaring to life. With a hardened, ruthless expression locking my features into place, I accepted the call and lifted the phone to my ear. I stayed dead quiet, waiting for the caller to show their hand first.

For the first few agonizing seconds, the line was nothing but static and silence. Then, a chillingly familiar voice echoed through the speaker.

"Hello, Viktor."

I leaned back into my expensive leather chair, tension pooling in my broad shoulders. "Why did you call?" I demanded in a flat, dangerous tone.

"I heard a rumor that you are back in the country, and that you are playing the role of a legitimate billionaire now." Silvio let out a raspy, irritating chuckle.

"Do you have anything important to say?" I lowered my voice to a lethal register.

"How many innocent lives did you have to waste to scrape together that much money?" His mocking tone vanished, replaced by a stern, accusatory edge.

"Just enough to get me exactly where I am sitting today." I replied without an ounce of remorse.

"There is a massive new job lined up on the east side operations. It requires a heavy hand. I thought I should reach out and bring you in on the blood money."

"I don't do that kind of wet work anymore. I stopped a year ago." I cut him off, staring blankly at the wall.

The line went dead silent for two long seconds before Silvio erupted into a fit of dark, booming laughter.

"You don't do it anymore? You stopped a whole year ago? Are you honestly trying to tell me that the great Viktor Dragos hasn't soiled his hands with fresh blood in twelve months?"

"I have zero intentions of ever getting back into the game." I kept my voice perfectly level.

"Viktor Dragos is telling me he has not killed anyone in a year. That is the greatest joke I have heard in my entire life. You are a natural predator, my friend. You are endlessly bloodthirsty. You simply cannot stop taking lives. You know that deep down in your pitch-black soul, Viktor."

"If you don't end this call right now, I might just get bloodthirsty enough to track your location and drain the life directly out of your throat." I squeezed the phone tight enough to make the plastic casing creak in my palm.

"Fine, fine. Don't blow a fuse. I will end the call. But I am certain you will be begging to come back soon enough. You cannot leave this life. You know it. It is just a massive shame you are going to lose out on this lucrative deal." Silvio clicked his tongue and ended the call abruptly.

I dumped the phone back onto the desk with a guttural groan. I glared hard at the row of expensive business strategy books lining the shelf opposite my desk. Leaving the dirty business of the mafia was known to be exceedingly difficult. Honestly, it was supposed to be impossible. Yet, exactly a year ago, I had achieved the impossible and walked away from the organized crime syndicate.

But even I, the ruthless Viktor Dragos, could not sever the ties with ease. Leaving the organization meant exposing my civilian life to severe dangers and getting myself assassinated instantly. No one just walks away clean. I was merely holding an inactive status, and I firmly planned on maintaining that peaceful front until the day I finally died. Let the past stay buried.

I was done with the brutal underworld that had systematically taken everyone I ever loved away from me. But as my chest heaved and my pulse pounded a harsh rhythm in my ears, the ugly truth set in. I knew Silvio was right. I was far too bloodthirsty to embrace peace. The violent darkness was stitched into my DNA, and ignoring it was a losing game.

VALENTINA

I stirred my iced vanilla latte absentmindedly, staring blankly at the condensation dripping down the plastic cup. Carmella sat across from me in a bright yellow booth at our regular off-campus cafe shop. The espresso machines hissed loudly in the background, but they were no match for Carmella's voice. She just wouldn't stop rambling at warp speed about how much I was going to like Dalton, the guy she was currently setting me up with.

"Seriously, Val, he is so ridiculously handsome. He plays lacrosse, he has this perfect jawline, and every single girl he has ever hooked up with swears up and down that he is good in bed." She grabbed my hand across the table, shaking it for emphasis.

"So, he is basically a massive playboy?" I pulled my hand back and frowned at her.

"No way, not a playboy. You know I would never subject you to a toxic player. From everything I have gathered, Dalton is actually a nice, sweet, and loyal guy." Carmella waved her hand dismissively, offering an encouraging smile. "Just give him a chance."

My facial muscles relaxed a tiny bit, and I offered a slow nod. I was sitting here physically with Carmella, wearing a cute floral sundress and a fresh layer of lip gloss, but mentally, I was stranded in a different mansion. I could only think about someone else. Someone forbidden, older, and wildly off-limits.

"Oh my god, look! He is here." Carmella suddenly whispered excitedly. She readjusted her posture in the vinyl seat and smoothed down her own hair.

I turned my head slightly, looking over my shoulder to see Dalton navigating through the crowded cafe tables. He spotted our booth and flashed a bright, white-toothed smile as he approached.

"Hello, ladies." He offered a warm, polite greeting, aiming his smile at me first and then switching to Carmella.

"Hi there." I returned a tight, polite smile.

Dalton stood awkwardly for a moment. He glanced down at the empty wooden chair sitting on my side of the booth, then shifted his gaze back to my face, silently asking for permission.

"Oh, please do sit. Have a seat." I quickly moved my purse off the chair, getting his unspoken question.

"Thank you so much." He smoothly pulled the chair out and sat down, turning his full attention to the center of the table.

"Okay, formal introductions. Dalton, this is Val, my ultimate best friend in the whole world. And Val, this is Dalton." Carmella gestured between us like a proud game show host.

"It is nice to meet you in person, Val. You look even more beautiful now that I am sitting close to you." Dalton rested his forearms on the table, leaning his upper body toward me to close the gap.

"You look handsome as well. Carmella told me you were good-looking, and seeing you now, I think she is more than right." I forced a bright laugh, trying to match his energetic, flirty energy.

"Well, it seems like the two of you are hitting it off and clicking well already. I think I should just leave the both of you alone now. I actually have somewhere else I need to be. You two should stay and get to know each other better." Carmella grabbed her tote bag, stood up, and threw me an exaggerated wink behind his back.

"Bye then, thanks for the intro!" Dalton waved at her enthusiastically as she turned around and hurried out the front glass doors of the cafe.

Dalton turned his body fully toward me, clearing his throat lightly. "So, Val. I see you only have your iced coffee over there. Would you like to order something else? A pastry, maybe a sandwich?"

"No, not really. I am honestly pretty full. But you should definitely grab something for yourself if you need to eat." I replied, picking at the paper straw wrapping on the table.

"That is true, but I am perfectly fine for now. Honestly, just sitting here and listening to your voice makes me feel way better than any edible treat possibly could right now." He shot me a charming, perfectly practiced smile.

Under normal circumstances, a college freshman would have instantly fallen for those smooth words. It was a killer pickup line. I would normally have giggled and appreciated his confident choice of words, allowing the butterflies to swarm in my stomach. But my stomach felt painfully hollow. The singular, dominant person I could picture in my mind's eye was my father's wealthy best friend. Viktor Dragos.

As Dalton kept talking about his classes and his hobbies, I couldn't help but aggressively analyze him. I kept noting exactly how much higher and lighter his voice sounded compared to the dark, gravelly, commanding baritone of Viktor's voice. I studied his frame, noting his average height and lean muscles. He was fit, but his build was insignificant next to the massive, terrifying wall of sheer muscle that made up Viktor's towering body.

And as my eyes flicked downward toward the table, a dirty, invasive thought crashed into my skull. I was just so certain that whatever Dalton was packing in his jeans was in no way comparable to Viktor's massive cock. Not even remotely close.

Damnit. I squeezed my thighs tightly together under the table. The sole reason I had agreed to dress up and meet Dalton today was fueled by the desperate hope that dating someone appropriate would act as a cure. I needed a distraction to force my brain to stop obsessing over Viktor's brutal dominance. I wanted to stop remembering how hard he had kissed me last night. I wanted to forget the burning sensation of his raging, rock-hard cock grinding heavy against my soft stomach through his sweatpants. I wanted to purge the sudden lust that made my pussy throb and weep for an older man who treated me like property. Yet, sitting across from this conventionally attractive boy, my plan was failing.

"Hey, are you okay over there?" Dalton's concerned voice sliced through my filthy daydream.

"Yes, I am totally good." I replied way too quickly, pasting a fake smile on my face.

"Glad to hear it." He mumbled, looking relieved.

"I have actually been noticing you around campus these past few weeks, and I have sincerely liked you a lot from afar. You have no idea how happy I was when Carmella told me she was planning on officially introducing me to you today." Dalton pushed forward with a warm grin.

"You are easily one of the most popular, hottest guys at school, and you actually have your eyes set on me?" I leaned my chest closer to the edge of the table, desperately pretending to be swept off my feet by the conversation.

"Is it that you don't know how gorgeous you look? Or are you just playing the humble card with me?" He laughed softly, flashing his perfect teeth.

"Do you have a girlfriend right now?" I threw the direct question onto the table, needing to keep his mouth moving so I didn't drift back into a fantasy about Viktor.

"No. But I am hoping I will be having one soon. You." He delivered the line smoothly, holding eye contact.

Despite his smooth delivery, I could not help but notice a slight waver in his tone. He didn't sound confident. And even though he was staring right into my eyes, pouring on the charm, his gaze made me feel nothing. It was empty. Dalton's blue eyes didn't ignite a single spark inside my chest, let alone make me feel even a quarter of the wet, desperate heat that Viktor's dark, predatory stare incited between my legs.

My internal alarm bells started ringing loudly. This intense desire is a massive sin, Val. You cannot be fiercely craving your own father's best friend. It is dangerous and sick. You need to snap out of this sexual trance right this second. You need to forcefully pull that dominant older man out of your head and focus your energy on building a normal, healthy relationship with a nice boy like Dalton.

I mentally scolded myself, taking a deep breath of the coffee-scented air. I firmly set my jaw, cementing an unbreakable determination. I was going to cut Viktor Dragos out of my persistent fantasies forever. I would date this boy in front of me, and I would cure myself of this madness.

Well, at least I tried to convince myself that I possessed the strength to actually do it.