His Bratva Princess

Chapter 18

Sofia's Pov

I sleep most of the plane ride while Viktor does work on his laptop. Other times, I'm eating, looking out the window and watching Gossip Girl. Viktor tries to make attempts to talk to me, however, I stick with 1 to 2 worded responses. We land on Victor's private landing space where Nikolai and Dimitri meet with us and escort us back to Viktors home. I look around, noticing security has doubled since I've left. It's clear he has hired more people to prevent me from escaping again. I look at Viktor, in his fresh Armani suit and Gucci sunglasses, who takes long purposeful strides to his home. I don't think he's slept at all. Yet, he still looks absolutely beautiful.
"Thanks Nik and Dimitri," I smile at them as they place my bag down. They nod and abruptly leave as Viktor begins removing his tie. I gulp and look around the house, well, mansion. His home lacks personal items. It feels more like a hotel, rather than a home. I guess I will have to change that.
I make my way upstairs where my new room that I share with Viktor is. I am surprised that all of my stuff is already put away neatly. There is no sign of suitcases or anything. I open the cupboard doors of the walk in wardrobe to see that all of my clothes have been organised accordingly. The dresses remain together, shirts together and so on. My shoes are also organised. I look to his side of the wardrobe to see the boring sight. Armani suits in black, grey, navy and white. Plain tees that consist of the colour grey, white, navy and black. A couple pairs of jeans and heaps of chinos. His shoe rack consists of designer shoes. I open the draws and feel my face turning hot seeing brand new lacey lingerie sets in the draws and some raunchy sleepwear pieces. His draws consist of boxer shorts and designer underwear. So he gets all the comfy shit and I get the sleepwear that makes me feel as if I'm selling myself to him.
I decide to pick out a white crop top and sone booty shorts to wear for the day and a pair of comfy fluffy slippers. It's what I normally wear to bed at home. I walk to the ensuite and start the shower up. As I shower, his words resonate in my head from our prior fight. I would get on my fucking knees for you in front of a million men. His words shocked me and also made me feel things I have never felt before about a man. It was his version of romantic. In the Bratva, you never get on your knees for anyone. That's what the tattoos on his knees mean. But what he has said and done on multiple occasions do the complete opposite of the meanings behind his tattoos. I finish up quickly in the shower and get changed, he isn't in the room when I exit the bathroom and I sigh. 
Ignoring the talking from downstairs, I decide to explore my new home. There is around 8 bedrooms, 2 studies, 5 bathrooms and a room that remains locked which piques my curiosity. After exploring, I descend the stairs where Viktor stands talking to a bunch of his men, some of whom I don't recall seeing. This man has not slept in probably 48 hours but he decides to have a random meeting.
As I enter the same space as the five men in the living room, they briefly look at me and then avert their eyes as soon as they see me. Viktor looks at me, looks down at what I'm wearing, then clenches his hands at his sides whilst his eyes turn dark.
He steps away from his men and storms over to me and gets in my space, as if he's shielding me from their eyes. Not that they're looking anyway. It honestly completely slipped my mind that this probably isn't the best outfit to wear with guests and Viktor's over protective nature. I didn't think anyone else would be here and well, Viktor has seen more of me then anyone else has so I didn't think it would be a big deal.
"What the hell are you wearing?" He growls at me with anger rolling hot from his body.
"My pyjamas," I say with innocence.
He rubs a palm over his face and looks back at his men who are all looking anywhere but in our direction.
"Go somewhere else, where no other man is at risk of seeing you," he orders and looks down at my chest. I follow his gaze and my face turns hot immediately. Why didn't I think that white would be see through without a bra? My nipples are raised and easily seen through my see-through crop top.
"I honestly didn't know anyone was going to be here. I thought this was my house too so I wore what I normally wear to bed," I shrug.
"Everyone, out!" He commands. He doesn't need to say it twice before they're all respectfully leaving the house.
"Vik-" he cuts me off my grabbing the back of my head and kissing me. I still in shock but he continues, fisting my curls in his hand. I slowly allow him access and respond to his advances by kissing him back. He groans and lifts me into his arms and wrapping my legs around his waist. He ascends the stairs with me in his arms and leads us to the bedroom. He pulls down my crop top with his teeth and latches on to a peaked nipple and begins sucking.
I throw my head back and moan loudly at the sensation. My whole body tingles from the effect. I've never felt like this before. I've never even felt this feeling before. How does he know how to do this? Who else has he done this with? I feel my high coming down as my insecurities and overthinking surfaces.
Viktor senses the change and pulls back and sits me on the bed. He frowns and sits down next to me.
"What's wrong?" He questions.
"I- ugh, umm... nothing," I sigh and clench my eyes shut.
He grabs my chin between his thumb and index finger and forces me to look at him. I don't want to cry but I feel my chest tightening and my throat closing up.
"Sofia, tell me. Please? Did I do something?" He's confused by my sudden change in mood. One moment I was moaning and gripping onto his hair and the next I was silent and reserved.
"How many women have you been with?" I question.
He stares into my own eyes and doesn't respond. It's as if he doesn't want to respond.
"Sofia..." I cut him off quickly before he can ramble and make any excuses.
"How many women, Viktor?" I snap.
He sighs and tries to grab my hand but I pull away from him. I create a space, so he is unable to reach for me. He doesn't like that.
"I don't know," he responds.
"You don't know?" I scoff.
"Maybe 50?" He offers as a response. I gasp and feel my heart pull into two. Fifty women. How am I ever going to compete with that? My whole life I was promised to the one man and I kept my promise by remaining a virgin and not seeing anyone. He didn't allow me to see anyone. There was a time when we were younger when I genuinely loved him so much and he rejected me.
"You've slept with that many women when you knew you were getting married to me?" I question.
"Sofia-" I cut him off again.
"Get out," he doesn't budge. "GET THE FUCK OUT!" I scream.
He stands slowly and swallows. He then walks to his closet, grabs some clean clothes and leaves the room whilst I lay on the bed with tears falling from my face.

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