Page 18 of The Mafia and His Obsession Part 2 (Tainted Hearts 5)
“Does this answer your questions, Valerie?” he questioned. I could feel the growl coming from his chest. My lungs squeezed and my heart stammered. “Does my kiss prove what you do to me? Do you see now how completely obsessed I am with you? Your sweet voice, your pretty eyes, your body, the way you dance? So graceful. So elegant. Beautiful and utterly mesmerizing. Or shall I show you in another way? Maybe instead of kissing your lips, I should put my mouth between your legs. Fuck your pretty cunt with my tongue. Maybe when your cum is dripping and glistening from my lips, maybe then you will really understand what you do to me.”
I couldn’t find my voice. My throat was dry, and I could only gape at Viktor. I shouldn’t have been surprised. He had a filthy mouth, and he had done filthier things to my body. But the way he spoke, so strong and sure.
I swallowed and finally found the courage to speak. “No. You don’t…have to do that. I have no doubts. I believe you.”
“Do you really?” Viktor countered rapidly.
I nodded. Touching our foreheads together, I held his eyes with mine. “I really do because I feel the same way.”
“I know,” he said smugly. I rolled my eyes and swatted at his chest jokingly. He grasped my hands and held them there, right over his beating heart.
Viktor had awakened the sweet echoes inside me, the same that had been silenced for the longest time. I had endured pain for years. Misery had been my constant. Heartbreak after heartbreak, day after day, until I was in tattered pieces. But now, my heart was singing love songs, and I was a melody to the symphony of his soul.
Is this love? I thought.
In his eyes, I saw the same question.
I think it is, I replied silently. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was a forever type of love.
Chapter 7
I was in Viktor’s arms; his lips were pressed against the side of my neck, and I felt my pulse beating. My heart was erratic in his presence. Valentin wasn’t home. He was off somewhere, dealing with some business. I knew what this meant. Viktor was silent, as if he could read my thoughts and he knew too.
When Valentin wasn’t home, wasn’t causing me pain—he was off terrorizing someone else. We were all a victim to his sick games. I wondered who else was slowly wishing for their deaths, the same thoughts I used to have.
Until Viktor.
Now, I didn’t want death. I wanted to live. For him. For us. For a new beginning, far and away from these walls.
I love you.
It had been a week since I realized what my feelings truly meant. The word love was a hard realization. Love. A simple word with a heavy meaning. It bound Viktor and me together. My soul belonged to him, and he owned my heart.
I knew he felt the same way, or I liked to believe he did. The way he looked at me, the way he cradled me, made love to me. His touches spoke his silent words. His gaze said a quiet everlasting vow.
I was scared of heartbreak, of losing him. But now, I would gladly walk through fires to be with him.
Viktor moved in my embrace, and he switched his position until his head was on my stomach and he was lying horizontal on the bed. He nuzzled into my belly button and then laid there with his eyes closed. He looked…calm.
God, he was beautiful. In a ferocious, dark knight type of way.
Viktor Ivanshov was my solace. He was the center of my universe, and if he ever walked out, he would take the sun with him and leave me in the dark.
But I knew he would never leave me.
My fingers whispered over the stubborn strands of his hair that laid limply over his forehead. I caressed the stressed lines and smoothed them out. Viktor’s lips twitched into a small smile.
While Valentin was my tears, Viktor was my smiles. I never knew in this lifetime I would feel anything else other than heartache, but I guessed this life was far from over.
I was brought back to the present when Viktor grasped my breast. He squeezed, and I let out a small laugh, knowing he wanted my attention on him. Glancing down at his face, I saw that his eyes were open and he was staring at me intently.
“What is it?” I questioned, soothing the furrowed lines between his eyebrows.
Viktor lifted his hand up and he palmed my cheek. His touch was warm. The way his thumb moved over my cheek in a gentle caress, it was my favorite thing.
His expression was almost forlorn, as if he were stressing over something. His lips moved, but I didn’t catch the words quickly enough. I tapped his mouth with my index finger, indicating for him to repeat. He did, slower this time.
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