Now I’m torn between slamming back inside her tight wet cunt, or going to see what my father’s wife wants.
Why the hell is Mira Volkova here?
Okay I know why. That’s a very stupid question.
It’s more like it would be weird if she didn’t come and seek me out to talk in private.
She could have spoken to Leif. I don’t know anything he doesn’t. But maybe I care less than he does about compassion, so I won’t spare her feelings with the truth.
I maintain eye contact with Anastasia, feeling as aroused as I am pissed at the intrusion, along with the reminder of Viktor.
I noted the moment she thought about him and I didn’t like it.
She looked embarrassed.
“Desmier, what should I tell her?” Ehlga calls out again in a tentative voice, cutting into my thoughts.
Fuck it. I’m going to have to go down there.
I grit my teeth and straighten, hating all of this. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
When I slide off the bed, Anastasia covers herself as if just realizing she’s naked.
Something must be wrong with my head to make me choose this over sex.
The Desmier I know would have chosen fucking and made Mira wait.
But perhaps this is more about my respect for Ehlga. She endured the worst of me during my teenage years. This is one area of my life I don’t think she should have to deal with any more than she is. It’s too sordid.
I grab some clothes I’d thrown to the side and put them on. Then I cast one last glance at Anastasia and walk to the door.
When I step out of the room, Ehlga catches a glimpse of Anastasia on the bed with the sheet covering her and her cheeks flush.
“I’m so sorry to disturb you two. I didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t want to be rude. She seems quite fragile.”
“That’s okay. Did she say what she wants?”
“No, not so much. Just that she wanted to speak to you. I’ve just left her in the living room with a cup of tea.”
By Odin.What the hell am I going to do with this woman I never really wanted to speak to?Ever.
Not only that. It’s barely eight-thirty. I got home after two in the morning because I was busy as fuck at the office. With my takeover, I’ve had meeting after meeting after meeting with all sorts of people. I didn’t realize I was going to be so busy, but it is what it is.
“Alright, I’ll go see her.”
Ehlga nods and I head to the living room.
I find Mira standing by the large Van Gogh painting hanging over the fireplace. Vittoria Butyrskaya used to fuss over that one a lot. It was one of her favorites. I left all her paintings up on the walls the same way I left the classic books in Pavel’s office.
Mira was admiring the painting, but turned to face me when I came in.
She looks terrible and just as fragile as Ehlga described. And thinner than when I saw her at the wedding. As if she hasn’t eaten since. Someone could easily snap her in half.
Despite that, the black fur coat she’s wearing and her hair in that tight bun maintain her elegance.
“Good morning.” Her accented voice has a slight quiver to it.
“Good morning.”