Vik by Belle Aurora

19

Nastasia

“On your left, babe,”Chessie uttered, and I blinked back into focus from wherever my mind had taken me a moment ago.

“Sorry,” I muttered before pasting on a wide smile and morphing back into the lace-teddy-wearing vixen I was. When I approached a man in his thirties with fuck-me eyes and a tailored shirt, I knew he had money to spend, and I called over the music, “What can I get you, handsome?”

It was almost eleven, and Bleeding Hearts was at capacity. With a long line outside, I knew it would be a busy night, and after witnessing the struggle of the last year where Sasha had been only months away from losing this place, I would never take our success for granted and complain about being ran off my feet.

Tonight, I took orders with a lusty smile, feeling somewhat lighter than I had been yesterday.

Moving around Anika, I reached over Chessie to get my hands on the bottle of Hibiki Whiskey. I poured carefully over the sphere of ice, making sure not to spill a single drop, because this shit was expensive.

When I handed it to tailored-shirt guy, he placed the hundred in my hand, looked me in the eye, and said, “Keep the change.”

Aww. A nine-dollar tip.

What a guy.

My face remained passive as I fought the eye roll trying to make itself known. The man looked uncertain a second, and when my lips tipped up lightly, he looked relieved. I leaned over the bar, gripped his shirt, pulled him close, and pressed a long kiss to his cheek.

I pulled away, and his lusty eyes told me I’d done my job right. When I turned my back to him and began to sashay away, I heard him call out desperately, “What’s your name?” and I smirked.

And that was how it was done.

No doubt he’d spend a cool thou’ trying to get me to talk to him over the course of the night.

It was a business transaction that suited me well. The more money they spent, the drunker they got. The drunker they got, the better the tips would be. Of course, Vik would attend to the inebriated men, approaching and doing the obligatory thing by telling them he thought they had enough, and it was time to move on. They wouldn’t, but the security footage would show this was done and done often. In short, it covered our asses from disgruntled patrons who wanted their money back or claimed we were negligent in any way.

I loved my job.

I was proud of what we achieved. It was a group effort, and Bleeding Hearts was the hottest burlesque joint in New York. Of course, others had tried to replicate what we had, but they all fell short.

We had the best dancers, prettiest faces, and most importantly, our girls were loyal to us.

“You’re a cruel woman” came from the shadows at the side of the bar.

And although my stomach dipped, I hid it under a knowing smile that said he was right.

There he was, sitting in the dark. His face lit up with every strobing light, and one look at that neatly trimmed stubble had my core clenching. I felt it gliding along my back as the memory of him kissing his way up my spine flickered through my head.

His body filled up the small space. Those wide shoulders stretched the charcoal-gray long-sleeved Henley, which, of course, was pushed up, revealing his tattooed forearms.

No.

Forearm porn? Really?

I internally sulked.

Why was he torturing me?

He couldn’t know what he was doing to me. Could he?

His eyes crinkled in the corners with his smile and those dimples…

Fuck.

He looked like Hades himself.

Dark and tempting, like sex was just a part of who he was. A quality he couldn’t get rid of, even if he tried.

I swallowed down the flurry of emotions rushing through my body, a whirlwind of sadness and excitement. Being in his presence always did strange things to me. It was almost as if I lost myself and became his.

“Just doing my job,” I said with remarkable composure.

When he licked his full bottom lip, looked around in a bored manner, and leaned forward, my gaze went down to the ink on his neck. I’d seen him bare more times than I could count. I could tell you where every scar was, describe the way his ab muscles bulged unsymmetrically. I had kissed every square inch of this physique.

As much as I was his, Viktor Nikulin was mine.

The bruises on his face did nothing to mask his appeal. In fact, they added to his magnetism, pulling the attention of most every woman who came close enough to notice him. And once they noticed him, it was hard to focus on anything else.

“How was your lunch with Frenchie?” The question was asked low, dangerous-like.

Oh no. We are not going there.

Nuh uh.

He knew he ruined it before it even began. I wanted to say something witty and sarcastic, and I tried. “I—” But nothing came out. Panic took over, and my mouth gaped a moment. He peered down at my lips, his brow rising slightly.

Ah, crap.

Flustered, I spun and walked away with my cheeks burning.

My mind did a slow clap.

Well done.

An amused, “Hey, where’s the fire?” came from behind me.

Thankfully, my mouth-to-brain connection sparked to life. I twisted back without slowing my step and uttered a cool, “In your pants.”

Yes. Nice recovery.

Vik made a show of looking me up and down in my teddy. My nipples beaded painfully behind the lace, making me all the more aware of my yearning.

“You know me” was all he said as he leaned back into the shadows, grinning in a way that told me we both won.

My smirk was purely internal, and I know it was pathetic, but the small exchange made my night.

It was funny how a person could go from the highest high to the lowest low in such a short amount of time.

I should have known she would be the cause.

And when she approached him, my eyes remained fastened on them tightly, my back up, locked in a defensive stance.

“Vik, baby,” Lush muttered through her pouting, over-filled lips. Her lashes fluttered prettily. “Can you help me?”

Vik replied, “I can try. Someone bothering you?”

She stood close to him. Way too close. And the moment she laughed, I rolled my eyes. “No, silly.” Her hand touched his shoulder. “I’ve got an itch I can’t reach.” Her voice lowered suggestively. “I thought maybe you’d scratch it.”

Oh dear. I was this close to pounding this bitch into the ground.

So, when Vik’s voice lowered to an equally suggestive tone, and he responded a sly, “Why don’t you show me where this itch is, and maybe we can figure something out?” I gently put the glass I was holding down and began to walk.

Lifting the lip of the bar, I strode out of my workspace, a spark of anger growing inside me.

Lush turned, lifting her tiny skirt to reveal the curve of her butt. She looked back over her shoulder and pouted. “Right there.”

My heart began to race.

Yeah. This was not going to happen.

Vik and Lush?

Over my dead body.

His eyes trailed down to her butt and stayed there a long moment. I kept walking. He reached down, took hold, and pulled. She gasped as though he entered her, and I wanted to vomit. With a sly smile, he handed her the white tag and uttered a nonchalant, “There. Satisfied?”

But Lush curled her fingers around the white tag, twisted to face him, and put on a completely unbelievable shy girl routine, dipping her chin and shaking her head submissively. “Not even close,” she murmured, and my heels brought me near enough to do what I wanted.

I reached out, wrapped my fingers into her hair, and tugged. Hard.

Lush squealed, reaching up in an attempt to pry my hands off her. Vik blinked, and then he was off his chair with a disbelieving “Nas! What the fuck?”

But I was raging, and because of this, I spoke directly into her ear. “You are either a deaf motherfucker or you are just plain stupid. I have yet to decide.”

Another hard tug and Lush was brought to her knees with a shriek that had people turning to look at us. “Let go of me, you heifer!”

Vik reached for my hands, his fingers stumbling over mine. “Jesus, Nas! Let go!”

Unblinking, my fingers tightened in her hair as I bent down and uttered, “I warned you. You didn’t listen. Now I’m gonna fuck you up, bitch.”

“Help!” she cried, and Lev came rushing over from the opposite side of the club.

“Nastasia,” he tried to talk sense into me with a calm hand to my arm. “Let her go.”

“No,” I spoke through gritted teeth.

“Nas,” Vik growled. “People are getting their phones out. Let her the fuck go.”

And because I was hurting, I grated out, “Screw you.”

But he was deft with his fingers, and the second my hand came loose, I cried out, “No!” reaching for the panting bitch once more.

Lush shuffled backward with fear in her eyes and cried out, “You psycho bitch!”

Oh, honey. You have no idea.

I went to rush her but was turned upside down when I was promptly thrown over a hard shoulder. That shoulder dug into my stomach so hard it hurt. I bit out, “Let me go!”

Vik growled, “You need to calm the fuck down,” as he strode down the hall, opened a door, and walked inside the dark space. The familiar smell of cleaning supplies told me we were in the janitor’s closet. The moment he closed the door behind us, a light turned on, and I was set on my feet. My knees shook, and when his eyes flashed on me, he barked, “So, what? How does this work? You’re allowed to go to lunch with your ex-fiancé, the man you once left me for, and I’m not even allowed to talk to another woman. Is that it?”

My heart beat so fast it felt like a hummingbird in my chest.

“Talk,” Vik demanded, but I didn’t have the words, only raw emotion.

I was sick of this.

I hated it.

Why did it have to be like this?

Heartsick, I lied. I lied so hard. “You know what, Vik? I don’t care. Okay? I don’t care anymore. You see who you want to see, talk to whoever the hell you want to.” My heart stuttered as I said the words, “Fuck whoever you want to fuck. I don’t care.”

But I did.

Oh God, I did. And it broke me on the inside.

Vik’s lip curled. “You don’t care?”

“No,” I tried to say as adamantly as I could, but my voice shook.

He paused. A whole minute of silence went by, the space around us being filled with only my rough panting. Until he asked coolly, “Then why are you crying?”

What?

Was I?

I swiped at my cheek.

Oh shit. I was.

Tears fell from my eyes. They did nothing to break through the anger we aimed at one another, a smoking gun of animosity.

He stalked toward me. “Is that it?” I walked backward until I hit the cold wall. Still, he advanced, his face contorted with rage. “We done?”

No, we weren’t done. We were hurting, and because of that, I spoke through gritted teeth, and my voice croaked, “Screw you.”

“Screw me?” When he came close enough for me to breathe in the heady scent of his cologne, I swallowed hard, and his eyes went to my throat as he pressed the length of his body into mine, reaching up to grip my chin. “No, baby. Screw you.”

Lightning fast, I was spun around and pulled back into him, his growing erection pressed into my ass, and I wept quietly, needing him so badly. Needing to feel connected to him.

He felt what I was feeling. I knew he was, because when he nudged my knees apart and reached between my legs to palm my mound, I threw my head back against his shoulder with hitching breaths, and he sighed lightly, rubbing my pussy through my lace panties. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. You remember the rules, kiska?” I did, and my core pulsed. “If you’re angry, you don’t get to take it out on me, unless…?”

I refused to give him the satisfaction.

But when his hand glided up my back to my nape and he gripped me hard, holding me in his grasp, my breathing stuttered, and I found the words.

My voice was little over a whisper. “Unless we’re both naked.”

His chuckle was dark, cruel. “That’s right.” The hand at my mound pressed harder. “You need this, don’t you?” His voice lowered. “You need me.”

I did.

I really did.

When his fingers tangled in my hair, I moaned out, “What are you waiting for? Fuck me already.”

Reaching under my teddy, he pulled and the three small snap buttons between my legs broke apart, he hooked his thumbs into the sides of my panties and pulled. They fell to my ankles in a pool of lace, and I stepped out of them on shaking legs.

“Can you feel it?”

I could. There was a thrum in the air. A thickness. An intensity. He pawed my ass cheek, gripping it hard enough to make me wince. His breath warmed my cheek as the sound of his zipper lowering reverberated in the janitor’s closet.

“Fuck, this is gonna be good.”

A knock sounded at the door. It was Sasha. “Nas, get out here. You and I are going to talk.”

I yelled out, “Go away!” at the same time Vik boomed, “Not a good time, Sash.”

But my brother knocked again, sounding pissed. “I’m not asking again.”

At that moment, Vik’s fingers circled his thick cock, and he pushed me flat against the wall. The hot head of his length glanced my searing flesh, and then he pushed, entering me from behind. My moan was loud, embarrassingly so, and when I clenched around him, Vik ground out, “Fuck.”

A pause.

“Maybe we should talk about this later,” Sasha uttered, clearly unimpressed.

But Vik gripped my hips, pushed his front into my back, and began thrusting. “Fuck off, Sash.”

The feel of him, filling me up, stretching me, had my mouth parting as I panted out, “Don’t be a pussy.”

His growl had me grinning darkly, and when he drove into me rough and fast, the only sounds in the room were of our bodies slapping against each other mingled with heavy breathing. He fucked me so hard I saw stars, and I chuckled coarsely. “Is that all you got?”

“Don’t push me, baby,” Vik snarled in my ear, and I gasped quietly. When one arm circled my waist firmly, holding me in place, he used the other to push down on my lower back, making my ass stick out, and when next he pushed into me, the change in angle hit all the right spots.

“Oh God,” I moaned.

Vik laughed knowingly at the shell of my ear as he huffed out, “Found it.”

He found it, all right. And as he drove into me hard enough to have my face hitting the cold brick, my pussy squeezed around him, and his voice tight, he ground out, “Oh fuck. I’m right there, baby.”

So was I.

And when he took my hips in his hands and pulled me back into him, piercing me over and over again with his thick cock, I came closer and closer to finding rapture. Harder and harder, he thrust up into me until it was almost painful.

It was funny what a little pain could do.

Like a switch flicking, I went from ready to there, and throwing my head back, I cried out, “Yes.”

Not a second later, my walls were torn down, and beneath them, heaven was revealed. My pussy tightened for the longest time before I let go, and when my core clenched spasmodically, my soul left my body.

The moment I came, Vik’s thrusts were pulled out of time, and his hips jerked fitfully as he held his breath a moment, then groaned, “Fuck yes, baby. Do it. Milk me.”

He pushed the length of him into me, not willing to retreat, taking in my release as if it were his own. His groin pressed at my ass, and he ground against me, pulling a second wave a pleasure from me. My body shook as he drove impossibly deep, and when my core clenched, wringing out the last of my orgasm, Vik pressed his forehead to the crown of my head and spoke quietly through gritted teeth. “Fuck. I’m gonna blow.”

Yes.

There was nothing better than feeling him lose himself inside me.

My stomach clenched as the arm at my waist flexed, and he stilled a moment before I peeked over my shoulder to see he gritted his teeth and winced. He stopped breathing, and for a second, so did I. And then I felt it.

His cock, hard as rock, began to jerk in me, and he panted erratically, his torso tensing then releasing as he fought the bliss my body brought him. He breathed heavily, then groaned lightly as the last of the spasms hit, and when his body went slack, we stayed as we were, connected and panting into the small, dimly lit room.

It took approximately three minutes before it hit me like a brick to the face.

As ecstasy left me, shame took its place.

I felt the exact moment Vik noticed the change in me, and his arms loosened their hold. With a disappointed sigh, he pulled out of my body, letting our combined releases drip down between my thighs.

Before I even had a chance to gather my thoughts, Vik bent down a moment, took my hand, and placed my panties into my open palm, curling my fingers around them, and when he spoke next, his tone was heavy with frustration. “I don’t get you. One second, you’re hot, and next, you’re cold.”

I didn’t turn.

No. Like a coward, I kept myself facing the wall. Kept my back to him.

The sound of his zipper lifting had my sad eyes shutting tightly. “You need to stop and assess.” He buckled his belt. “Decide what you want from me.” And at last, he sighed wearily. “Because I’m tired, Nas.”

So was I.

It was a bone-deep weariness. The kind where you can barely keep your eyes open. Like living life in a vacuum.

He closed the space between us, and I felt him hesitate. When he put a gentle hand to my hair and stroked lovingly, as much as it healed, it burned.

The melancholy in his words flayed me. “I know I haven’t been myself, and I’m sorry for that. I got regrets as much as the next person. But it doesn’t alter the facts.” His pause was slight. “You’re my girl. Always have been, always will be. Nothing’s ever gonna change that.”

Quietly, he took the few steps away from me, opened the door, and left me to my thoughts. On shaky legs, I stepped back into my panties, pulled them up, re-did the buttons between my legs then promptly made my way out of the closet and down the hall. Walking into Sasha’s office, he took one look at me and stood, appearing somewhat like a disappointed parent.

“Finally,” he uttered, then asked, “You want to explain to me why you almost scalped Lush?”

“Martha,” I uttered roughly, walking over to the locker and retrieving my purse. “Her name is Martha.”

“I don’t give a fuck what her name is, Nas.” Sash pinched the bridge of his nose. “She’s already talking about her—” He scoffed at the word. “—'injuries,’ like she might consider litigation. So, sit down and talk to me.”

No. I wouldn’t be doing that.

When I turned and sauntered away, my brother called out, “Where are you going? Nastasia?”

But I was barely hanging on by a thread and when I walked the long hall and passed the bar, Anika mouthed, “Are you okay?”

Disregarding everyone and everything, I strode out the back to the parking lot, where I got into my car and drove home.

And that was where I stayed for three whole days.

On the fourth morning, I woke up and stupidly picked a battle I might not have been able to win.