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Her bare fucking snatch, glistening in the moonlight, like she came all over herself seconds before the picture was taken.
A new message from Mikhail bumps the picture higher in the chat.
Someone’s been a naughty girl.
My mouth curves into a deep scowl as I fire back a text.
Did you fuck her?
I didn’t set any rules about fucking Valentina. In fact, I distinctly remember saying that Mikhail and Ezra could claim her, heart and body, as long as one of us convinces her to stay in the Bratva for good.
That doesn’t mean I wasn’t looking forward to being the first man to claim her, though. Anger surges through me as I imagine Mikhail impaling her with his cock and holding his hand over her mouth so that I don’t hear them fucking in the library.
Are they in there now? Is he balls deep this fucking second?
Not yet. But you need to get in there, fast. She’s gonna ruin that fucking bench if she keeps this up.
How long has she been in there? How often? I toss my phone to the mattress and throw my legs over the side. Fuck sitting here. I need to know more about what my wife’s been up to.
I throw on the first pair of pants that I find and leave my bedroom. The hallways are empty save for the few guards on patrol. I ignore them as I make my way to the library.
The door is wide open, and I step across the threshold and into the cold night air. The library is one of the oldest rooms in the house, and the tallest. The rafters reach higher than other sections of the house, allowing for picturesque windows to reach high up above and filter natural light inside.
The walls and floor are covered in marble, making the room colder than the rest of the house. A lack of insulation on the outside wall doesn’t help matters.
Why Valentina likes it here, I’ll never understand.
I ignore the icy floor and make my way to the back where all the window seats reside. Every single bench is empty, and I check the image on my cell phone to find the one Valentina sat in. I didn’t ask Mikhail when the picture was taken, but as my eyes sweep the wood, I realize I don’t have to.
Running my fingers along the seat, I touch a damp spot and groan. I lift my fingers to my face and inhale, catching a whiff of Valentina’s arousal.
This is the exact spot where she exposed herself and played with her pussy until she made such a pretty little mess of herself.
My cock twitches in my pants, impatient for release.
“You think you can come without us finding out, zhena?” I grit my teeth as I undo my pants and allow my cock to spring free. Gripping my shaft, I pump slow and steady, picturing Valentina lying naked on the bench in front of me. “We see everything you do. One of us is always watching, always listening.”
Even if we weren’t keeping constant tabs on her, there are security cameras recording footage all over the house, including Valentina’s bedroom, but I’ve yet to check them. I have no doubt Ezra has been keeping tabs on her, though, as part of his job. He monitors all of the security footage across the estate, or instructs his team to do so. The bedrooms, however, I know he monitors himself.
If she’s been masturbating at night, he’ll know about it.
I glance up at the camera secured to the corner of this room. I wonder if he’ll replay the footage of whatever happened in here, too.
I’ll have to get him to send me a copy.
Pleasure zips up my spine as I stroke myself faster, imagining Valentina panting as she watches me, her lips parted in a pretty little o. Her fingers slide inside her dripping wet cunt, and she gasps like it’s a surprise that it feels fucking amazing.
“Just wait until I get my cock inside you,” I growl, my movements growing frantic as my balls tighten. I haven’t come since she first arrived a few days ago. I vowed to save it for her, but fuck, I can’t wait any longer or I’ll drown her in cum. “You’ll turn into my perfect little slut, won’t you, zhena? Begging for it every single day.”
I hiss as I explode in my fist, ropes of my seed painting the bench white. I squeeze my shaft and pull every last drop from my cock, adding to the depraved display.
Mikhail would call this a masterpiece, the sick fuck.
On a whim, I snap a picture and send it to the group.
She’s next.
Three pulsing dots signify someone’s incoming reply.
