“I can’t.” The words were barely audible. “I can’t tell you that because it would be a lie.”
The admission hung between them like a lit fuse, dangerous and explosive. They were both breathing hard, both fighting against the magnetic pull that had always existed between them.
“So what do we do?” he asked.
She looked up at him with eyes full of confusion and desire and something that might have been hope. “I don’t know.”
That’s when he snapped. The careful control he’d been maintaining all evening shattered completely, and he closed thedistance between them in two quick steps. His hands framed her face, and before she could protest or pull away, he crashed his lips against hers.
The kiss was desperate, hungry, four years of suppressed longing and unresolved tension exploding between them like a dam bursting. She tasted like wine and sin and everything he’d been missing, and when she moaned into his mouth and kissed him back with equal fervor, he nearly lost his fucking mind.
Her arms came up to wind around his neck, her fingers tangling in his hair as she pulled him closer. He pressed her back against the wall, his body covering hers, and she arched against him like she was trying to merge them into one person.
This was what he’d been craving, what he’d been fighting against since the moment he saw her walking down that aisle toward him. Not revenge, not justice, not any of the noble motivations he’d told himself drove him.
Just her. Always her.
When they finally broke apart, both of them gasping for air, she looked up at him with wide, stunned eyes.
“Fuck,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” he agreed, his forehead resting against hers. “Fuck.”
They stood there for a long moment, both of them trying to process what had just happened, what it meant for the careful boundaries they’d constructed around themselves.
Finally, Anka pulled back, her hand coming up to touch her swollen lips.
“This complicates things,” she said.
“Everything about us is complicated.”
“Viktor, I can’t... I need to think.”
He wanted to push, wanted to follow her upstairs and spend the night showing her exactly how good they could be together. But the vulnerability in her eyes stopped him. She’d been through enough today, dealing with Adrian and meeting his family and navigating the minefield of their relationship. She needed space to process.
“Okay,” he said, stepping back. “But Anka?”
“Yeah?”
“This isn’t going away. This thing between us—it’s only going to get stronger.”
She nodded, looking both terrified and exhilarated by the prospect. “I know.”
Then she closed the distance between them and kissed him—hard, urgent, nothing like the careful restraint she’d shown before. It was fire and teeth and desperation, and by the time she finally pulled back, they were both breathless.
Her eyes burned into his, daring him to follow, before she turned and headed upstairs. Viktor stood there, lips swollen, heart pounding, every nerve in his body alive with the promise of what was coming next.
Chapter 11 - Anka
His lips devoured hers, desperate and unrelenting, and she met him with the same hunger. Her back hit the wall, his body caging hers in, heat pouring off him in waves. Every kiss left her trembling, every brush of his tongue had her gasping for more.
They stumbled up the stairs, half-blind, half-mad with need. Her hands tore at his shirt, shoving it over his shoulders, greedy to feel his skin under her palms. Hard muscle, warm and alive, flexed beneath her touch.
“Anka,” he rasped against her mouth, his voice rough with want. “Tell me to stop.”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered back, dragging him closer. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
He growled low in his throat, lifting her as if she weighed nothing, carrying her until they collapsed on the bed in a tangle of limbs and breathless laughter that broke instantly back into kissing. His mouth trailed down her neck, sharp nips and soothing licks, making her pulse race so fast she thought it might burst.
