The Rose's Soul

Viktor bit his lip so hard that he could taste blood.

Why did she have to go with him? Why did the boss take her away?

The sound of her screaming played in his mind, and he got hard all over again. He'd wanted to make her scream, but not only in pain but also in pleasure. He'd wanted to bite her, and make her climax on him over and over again.

But she was already engaged.

"Viktor."

Viktor turned around in anger, only to be humbled at the sight of the speaker.

"Master Aleksandr. What brings you here?"

"Annika. Where is she?"

Damn, thought Viktor, what was with the Stanislov brothers and this bitch?

"Master Dimitri has possession of her now, Master Aleksandr. He collected her just a while ago."

"Fuck."

Viktor looked on in shock as the heir to the Stanislov throne ruffled his hair and cursed, obviously irked.

"May I ask why she is important, Master Aleksandr?"

Aleksandr glared at Viktor.

"Because she is my bride-to-be, Viktor. She has been promised to me from birth."

Annika sat on the floor in her room, steadying her breathing. What the hell just happened? What did she let him do? Why did she let him make her feel that way?

She got wet all over again just at the thought of it. What he did with his tongue... how the sensation exploded when he made her move her hips...

No, scratch that. She'd wanted to move her hips. In fact she wanted to hold his head there and have him eat her out.

She looked at her hands... the same hands that delicately held and caressed a violin surely put a few marks on Dimitri a few minutes ago.

Shit. And she was hungry.

She leaned on the door and hugged her knees to her chest as a flurry of questions bombarded her mind. Why her? Why now? And... if he cared so much for her, why did he keep her in such a horrible place?

A knock at the door jolted her back to reality.

"Annika? Are you ok?"

Dimitri. It had to be him, as his voice sent a ripple of desire straight through her.

"I'm fine," she said.

He chuckled. "Sure. That's why you're leaning on the door, thinking of me."

She swallowed a gasp.

"How are you sure that I'm thinking of you?"

"Because you're wet at this precise moment. I can smell you, Annika."

Annika bit her lip, stifling a moan. He was just making her torture worse.

"You want me to come in there and fuck you senseless over and over again."

Her fingers darted to the source of her discomfort and pleasure, and she played with herself.

"You want me to eat you out. And I want to, on my dining room table."

One finger slipped in, and she let out a soft moan.

"But I won't."

She stopped. Not because she had to, or because she was angry at his statement. No, she stopped because he spoke that statement without arrogance or a sense of conviction.

He said it gently, with a tinge of regret, and it touched her heart.

"Not that I care, but may I ask why?" she whispered.

He chuckled again, and her breath caught in her lungs.

"You do care, Annika."

"Answer my question, Dimitri."

She felt him lean on the door, and heard him sigh.

"I am not going to take you until I marry you," he said. "I know you want me to, and god knows how much I want to, but I refuse to touch you until there is a ring on your finger and a mark upon you stating that you belong to me, and me alone."

A lump formed in Annika's throat, and she struggled to find words.

"When that time comes, our first week of marriage will be spent indoors. The second, outdoors. The third, fourth and fifth in a country of your choice. All five weeks will be spent exactly the same way... consummating our marriage and christening any surface we can find."

Annika closed her legs and blushed a fierce red.

"I'm...not that experience. I doubt I'll last that long."

"Don't worry Annika," he said. "It's amazing what the human body is capable of when the right stimulus is introduced."

She twiddled her fingers and tried to even her breathing. She was wetter than before, but she didn't need to fulfill herself. According to him, he was going to do it for her for five weeks straight.

"How long do I have?" she asked

"For what?"

"To be a single woman."

Dimitri laughed.

"You never were single in my eyes," he said, "but I will give you a month's time."

"Three months," she said.

"Two, and not a day more," he said. "I've waited a long time, Annika. I can't last three months, but I can bear two."

She sighed.

"Fine," she said. "Two months to do as I please."

"And two months for me to coerce you into shortening the time. After all, I have to court you."

He stopped leaning on the door, and knocked again.

"Just open the door a little," he said. "I have your dinner... and a gift. I suggest you use it wisely."

She obeyed, and Dimitri gave her tray with her dinner, a glass of red wine and a plate of strawberries... and a violin case. She closed the door.

"Oh my god," she said, opening it. "My violin."

"I would like to hear you play," he said. "And not for an audience. Just for me. Can you do that for me?"

Tears formed in Annika's eyes as she looked at the violin once played by her mother. Memories of how she taught her from the age of four, and how she'd play it for both Annika and her father.

She'd promised her that when she grew up she'd play it for her husband. She never broke her promises.

"Yes," she said. "I'll play it for you in the morning."

"Thank you. Good night, Annika."

"Good night, Dimitri."

His instinct had been right. Annika responded better to kindness and honesty than to arrogance and lies.

Sadly, the base of their meeting was nothing but lies.

Dimitri looked at the moon through his window. Aleksandr would find him soon, and see that Annika was with him.

But Annika would already be attached to him by then, and if he played his cards right, she'd already be his wife.

And Aleksandr would never lay his hands on her.

Aleksandr pounded his fist on the desk, causing the figurines on it to fall.

Damn that Dimitri! he thought. As if relinquishing the title and responsibility to him was not enough, he took the one thing that would have made it worthwhile.

Annika Vladmiri. Daughter of Stefan and Amelia Vladmiri. Heir to the Vladmiri throne, unknown to her.

He was sure she didn't even know what she was.

The fact that she was promised to Dimitri was no longer relevant when he gave up his position. The head of the Vladmiri clan was supposed to marry the head of the Stanislov clan, not the former head, or just a member.

It was forbidden.

"Damn it!" he yelled, pounding the desk again, this time with even more force. It broke and fell at his feet, ruined.

"Henry!"

His assistant rushed in.

"Remove this and use it for firewood. Order another one, due to arrive tomorrow, do you hear me? No later."

"Yes, Master Aleksandr," Henry said. "I shall send the servants in and place the order immediately."

Henry rushed out, and Aleksandr sat on his chair. Dimitri was going to regret the day he found him.

He would make sure of it.