All of the air seems to evaporate in the room, and I suddenly find it hard to breathe. “W-w-wait. That’s not what I meant.”
He nuzzles his nose in my hair until his lips are at the shell of my ear. “Now that I’ve had a taste of you,privighetoare mica, I want more. So much more.”
“This can’t. You can’t. We can’t.” I’m incapable of even making a full sentence right now. It’s like he has me under some kind of mythical Romanian spell that I simplycan’t break.
“The more you tell me no, the more it makes me want to destroy you,” he confesses before stepping away.
“You bullied me for years when I was a teenager. I’m not letting you bully me into adulthood,” I tell him, standing my ground.
“Oh, this isn’t bullying, Savina. This is about claiming what’s rightfully mine,” he says with finality in his tone.
I shake my head as I force myself to meet his icy blue gaze. “Things have drastically changed, Dimitri. I’m engaged to your brother now.”
“I. Don’t. Give. A. Fuck,” he says, enunciating every single word. “Until you say ‘I do’, you’re still mine.” He takes a step back. “The next time I make you come, and trust me, there will be a next time, I want to hear what you were holding back. I want to hear you cry out my fucking name.” And then he walks out of the bathroom, leaving me a shaking, trembling mess.
Why did what he said sound like a threat? And why do I think he’ll actually make it happen? But, more importantly, why do I secretly want him to?
CHAPTER TWENTY
Dimitri
THE RESTOF the engagement dinner passes by in a blur. The more I hear about what a handsome couple Pavel and Savina are and questions about how many babies they’ll be having, the more I drink. I drink until I’m fucking numb and their words don’t make sense anymore and I can’t feel my heart beating that terrible rhythm that it does every time I think of not marrying Savina.
I want to tell her that I still want to marry her. That we could make our marriage work and that I’ll somehow fix all of this and get things back to the way they were.
But then I think back to her words in the bathroom. She thinks I’m still a bully from high school. And I did make her life miserable back then. But it was only to protect her. To keep her safe. To keep hermine.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I carry a bottle of the finest whiskey money can buy back to my apartment. I scrollthrough the contacts on my phone. I have at least fifty women’s numbers saved in here. I could call any of them right now, and they would come running, willing to suck my cock and make me forget for a while.
But I don’t want any of them. There’s only one girl I want, and I can’t even have her. She’ll belong to my brother one day, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Huffing in disgust, I scroll through my phone and delete every single number. Except one. My thumb hovers over her name. I doubt she knows I have her number. I don’t even know why I saved it in my phone. I’ve had it stored for years, the digits just glaring at me, tempting me.
Before I can talk myself out of it, I’m sending her a text.
Me:Hi.
It’s simple. Stupid even. But it’s too late to take it back now.
Savina:Who is this?is her reply.
I hesitate. If I cross this bridge, there’s no going back.
Me:Dimitri
Savina:How did you get my number?
Me:I have my ways, I text back with a chuckle.
Savina:Your ways aren’t very ethical.
Me:How would you know?
Savina:I just know you.
That causes me to frown. Does she know me? No, not really. But I’m sure she thinks she does. She thinks I’m still that hotheaded teenager that bullied my way through everything instead of trying to solve it rationally or logically. Maybe I’m still like that in a way. I do use my fists to solve a lot of problems even to this day.
Me:You don’t know me at all.
