His kisses made me breathless, and I kissed him back, determined to steal his breath. He had left his mark on my soul and I wanted to leave mine on his, so this way—we would be one.
I smiled against his lips and he pulled away just slightly, so he could rest his forehead against mine. His chest heaved and his hands dropped to my hips, holding me, anchoring me to him.
I wrapped my legs around his waist. My eyes opened to stare into his dark ones. There was always something there, a touch of insanity. Some days he looked unhinged, a beast clawing from deep within. He had the power to crush someone’s neck with his bare hands, and I knew he had done it before, maybe more than once. Other days, he looked calm. But never less deadly.
Viktor Ivanshov was the type of man who lived on the adrenaline from making men whimper in fear, their blood running cold, and then he would stab his knife in precisely. A clean death. Although I had a feeling he liked it messy sometimes. There was a darkness in him that I should have feared, but I had never felt safer than right here in his arms.
He placed a chaste kiss on my lips and I moaned in response when he pulled away. A few minutes ago, he was a man set on killing Valentin. His face had hardened and his eyes—they had held so much cruelty, darkness, a promise of pain and blood for my husband.
But now, that look has disappeared, replaced by a boyish charm. The corners of his lips lifted with a small smirk, his signature move that gave him the perfect arrogant look. He knew exactly the effect he had on me. Viktor was so sure he could make my knees weak, and there was no denying it—he was absolutely right.
He made my knees weak, my heart sing, and he forced my soul to dance.
It was perfect in the most imperfect way. Our time together were filled with cracks and flaws, forbidden with a touch of perfection. It was toxic for both of us.
But damn it all to hell, it was us. And I didn’t want anything else.
With his tight grip on my hips, he lifted me off the bathroom counter. I kept my legs around his waist as he carried me out of the bathroom. Halfway to the bed, my towel slipped away and fell to the floor. My naked body pressed against his suited one. My softness molding around his roughness.
His hands went to my ass, and he squeezed the firm globes. When my breath hitched, he chuckled in my neck. His lips grazed tenderly over the throbbing veins.
Viktor set me down beside the bed. He reached for the dress lying on the chair and handed it to me. He settled on the edge of the bed and watched me. I did quick work of dressing myself, and he handed me the comb. All of it was done in silence.
I dressed. He stared. I breathed. He breathed. Thousands of words were left unsaid, but we understood the silence. It was comforting.
When I was done, he gripped my wrist and pulled me onto his lap. The sun was up across the horizon; our time was now limited. He had to leave before anyone would catch me outside my bedroom. It was a dangerous game of cat and mouse we played.
Viktor sniffed my hair and then buried his nose in my neck, filling his lungs with more of my scent. “You are such a caveman,” I said.
Even though I couldn’t hear my voice, I felt the vibration in my throat and jaw. I was finally getting a hang of how loud or soft I spoke.
“What can I say? You bring out that side of me. If I beat my chest and growl harder, would you let me fuck you? Tarzan style?” he rumbled. I looked up and found mischief in his eyes. God, how I wanted to treasure this moment.
My hand swatted at his chest, and he threw his head back, laughing. I watched him laugh freely, his whole demeanor transforming, and it made him look so young, so free, so handsome. He was beautiful.
My fingers traced his jaw and then his lips. “I wish I could hear your laughter,” I tried to whisper. “I bet it’s beautiful. Rich, rough, and dark, just like you.”
I watched his mouth say my name. Valerie. I touched the softness of his lips, stopping the rest of his words. “I want to hear you say my name, Viktor. I want things I can’t have, but I can’t stop myself from wanting them.”
I used to think that my deafness was my power. I had learned to make it my strength and used it against my enemies, those who wanted to torture and rip apart my soul.