How she moved against me.
Those soft, beautiful sounds of pleasure that danced from her lips and made her arch against me.
Fuck! I can’t stop picturing it.Over and over again. How she spread her legs wider and how her fingers pressed into my side when I ran my fingers over her sweet, honeyed clit.
“Fuck!” I snarl out loud, frustrated with myself, on edge, and pushed to my limits.
And she’s a virgin. A fucking virgin. Could it actually be any more perfect than that? No man has ever touched her, ever tasted her. I would be the first.
The problem is that she still doesn’t trust me. And why should she? I’m a criminal. I come from a world that terrifies her. To her, I am dangerous, a risk that might not be worth taking.
But that sweetness. That softness.
I have no right to want her. I haven’t earned her trust or the right to take something so personal from her.Something so special.
But I still can’t stop thinking about it.
It’s consumed me for three days now. Three days since I kissed her. Three days since we have had any kind of real conversation because we’ve both been avoiding each other.
Shoving the chair backward, I stand up, wanting to punch something to release some of the pent-up agitation inside me.
Punching won’t help anything, though.
Heading downstairs, I decide I’ll have a whisky. At least it might take the edge off. Just to settle the thoughts and stop my head from spinning out of control.
I storm down the stairs with a figurative dark cloud following me. I can’t remember the last time I was this moody. It’s been ages. Maybe…yes. When I fought with Anka. Dammit. That was not a good time. I don’t need to go back there.
Like some kind of taunt toward my own thoughts, as I reach the bottom of the stairs, who should come through the front door—Anka.
“Hi!” she says happily, smiling as she closes the door behind her. “I wanted to pop in and see how things were going,” she says, walking over to me to hug me hello.
I wrap one arm around her, stiffly hugging her back.
“Jeez, what’s wrong with you? You’re as tense as a plank of wood,” she groans, pulling a face at me. “That was a horrible hug.”
“Nothing,” I huff, letting out a heavy breath and trying to adjust my face, which I’m sure looks exactly how I feel. “How are you?” I ask, forcing a smile onto my face.
“Right. Nothing,” she says sarcastically, not impressed with me for lying to her.
I think the lying was the biggest failure between us.
I lied to Anka about so many things. Every time I opened my mouth to speak to her, it was a lie, and it was all with the single-minded goal of controlling her.
When I found out she was with Viktor, I wanted to tear the world down and drag her back to my side. My ego was destroyed. My ego wanted to take revenge. How dare she be with my enemy!? How dare she stab me in the back like that!? I was horrified, and I went out of my way, did everything I could, to make sure she left him.
I lied.
I threatened his life.
Essentially, I made her choose between her own happiness and me killing the guy. And at the time, I might have meant it. But I knew he was too strong for me to take down like that. I told her otherwise, though. I made her believe that his family was too weak to stand up to me, and they would never have been able to protect him.
I gave her no choice in the end. She had to leave him. She had to come back to me.
And ultimately, it was all my ego. Me, controlling my family. What I did was cruel, and I have spent night after night obsessing over how much darkness I had in me to allow myself to do something like that to someone I love.
It broke her. It hurt her. And I thought she would never forgive me.
But she did.
