By the time Dimitri, Ravi, and Stepen returned, my fury had turned into a cold malleable thing, and I suddenly understood how easily it could be to kill someone in such a state. I was angry. I was angry with Dimitri for putting me in such a position. I was angry with Nina and her condescending tone. I was angry with Madame Elise because not only had she touched Dimitri, she also masqueraded as a friend. But mostly I was angry with myself and my traterious heart, for if I felt nothing for Dimi, then none of this would have mattered.
Dimitri graciously bid our guests farewell, whilst I hung back, offering them each a small smile. Stepen’s gaze was filled with concern as it swept over me, and for one of Dimitri’s youngest men, he was far more perceptive than anyone gave him credit for. I smiled at him, hoping to reassure him in some way that I was indeed okay.
The front door shut with a light thud, but it held the same gravity as the sound of a gunshot. Dimitri turned quietly in his positioning, turning to face me. Henla muttered her farewell and disappeared out the back entrance, which told me that she wasn’t wholly unaware of his moods.
He was angry, but so was I. I wasn’t just angry, I was furious, and I allowed that fury to consume me, bubbling over into my demeanor, igniting each word that spilled from my lips.
“Who told you to make tomato soup?”
Dimitri’s voice was deceptively soft, his movements seemingly slow and at ease. But I knew this man. Had spent each night pinned beneath him as he unleashed his desire upon me.
I stood my ground.
“No one.” My voice rang out steady and true.
“Don’t lie to me, Vedman.” My vision blurred at the way he spoke that word, turning everything into fractured hues of red and gold.
“Oh, no,” I spewed my venom back at him - my rage. “I am not the one who lied here.”
I blinked and Dimitri stood before me.
“Who told you to make the soup?” His demand was laced with his own rage, his fury breaking free from the hold he normally kept it firmly held under.
“No one.” I barked my answer, pushing my frustration on him in the same way he was pushing it on me.
I felt a pressure against my throat and I had to blink, clearing my vision to truly understand what was happening. Dimitri’s palm was wrapped around my throat, and in the split-second it had taken me to blink, he had me pinned against the kitchen wall. He wasn’t hurting me - simply holding me by my throat in a posture that couldn’t be described as anything other than dominant.
“Why the fuck did you make the soup, Corinne.” Dimitri growled my name, low and fierce, and I hated that even though his hands were on my neck, the combination of his palm pressed against my throat, and the way he growled my name, had me clenching my thighs together, seeking something that only my captor could give me.
“Because I saw a vision - a memory - a loop, that showed me what your dinners used to be like, and I thought I could do something nice for you, you brute!”
My throat pressed against his palm with each word I spoke, each breath I swallowed, and I knew that my nipples were pebbling against the lace of my bra - the satin of my dress. Dimitri seemed to notice the change in my breathing as well. His pupils dilating as they flared with desire, the golden flecks in his green orbs calling to my baby blues.
But I wasn’t about to allow Dimitri to lay me down - to pin me beneath him as he moved at an unrelenting pace in and out of me - no. Not when he had seated me next to Madame Elise and his childhood friend. One had already laid with him, whilst the other would cut off her left hand to do so. He couldn’t be so callous? So oblivious?
“What did you see?” His body pressed into mine, and I parted my thighs slightly, allowing him to slip his thigh between my legs. My breath caught on an inhale, but I still managed to answer him.
“Fuck you, Dimitri.”
“You’re angry.” His statement sounded amused, and it was the final straw. I pressed my palms against his chest and pushed him away.
His chest barely moved, despite me throwing my full strength behind it. His gaze settled on mine, and I watched him regain control of himself as he stopped away from me, releasing my throat.
“What did you see?” He asked again, and although his demoaner was far more civil, rage still coated his gaze.
I flew towards him in a fury, my fist connecting with his chest, and it only took Dimitri a minute to restrain me. It probably would have taken less time had I not caught him by surprise.
“Fuck you, Dimitri.” I screamed. “You left me with them.”
His chest vibrated against my back as he wrapped his arms around me, banding his forearm across my chest, and I knew that there was no way he didn’t feel the stiffness of my nipples. And just as the thought had entered my mind, he brushed his forearm across my chest once more. My breath hitched at the movement.
“Are you laughing at me?” I squealed against him, finally registering why his chest had been vibrating.
“Are you jealous, Little Vedman?” His breath heated the shell of my ear and my traterious body arched up against him, begging him to touch me in ways that he alone knew.
“Let go of me.” I hissed the words as I lifted my heeled foot and kicked back against his shin. He shifted his leg in time, and instead, my heel met only air.
He chuckled against my neck and I shivered at the feel of it - of him.