Chapter 49
Chapter Forty-Nine
Ava
“ A va, hold up,” Oliver calls, but I can’t stay here anymore. I’m barely keeping it together, but I refuse to let them see me cry.
“Marco, I’m ready to go home.”
“Of course, Ms. O’Brien.” He walks to get the SUV. Oliver catches up and hands me a handkerchief.
“Thanks.”
“Listen, back there?—”
“Please, I don’t want to talk about it.” I wipe my face as I wait for Marco.
“I’ll take you home.”
“Marco is getting the SUV. I’ll be fine. Stay with Viktor.”
“He can take care of himself. I’m coming with you.” Marco pulls up in front of the house. Oliver opens my door and then sits in the front with Marco.
As Marco starts driving, I can’t help the tears. While peering out the window, I relive all the little moments with Viktor. It feels like we first met a lifetime ago. When we made this arrangement, I didn’t expect to fall in love with him. His asking me to marry him was the best thing that could have happened to me—to us. But we need to face reality. His father will never let us be happy—he’ll never accept me.
I can’t stop the tears or the pain I feel, and I don’t know how much more I can take of this. It’s too much to bear. Before I know it, we’re passing the gate. The SUV has barely stopped before I jump out. I take my shoes off and run inside. I want to be left alone, erase the last few hours, or forget them, but I must face the hard truth. But living without him would be like living without air. He’s the air I breathe. How do you choose to live without the air you need?
Upstairs, I walk to our bedroom, but at the last second, I decide against it. I can’t handle being there where everything reminds me of him—of us. I turn to my bedroom. I don’t know if I can face Viktor tonight. He will want to talk, and I can’t, not tonight. He’s going to tell me everything will be okay, but it won’t. Dinner tonight made that clear. Our relationship will not amount to anything. We must move on. I must move on.
I go to the bathroom and wash my face, which is sticky from the drink Fiona threw at me. I throw myself in bed, trying to find solace in the silence of the night, but instead, I cry. I found love in front of me where I shouldn’t have.
This was never meant to be a happily ever after.
I’m startled awake when someone lifts me off the bed. I panic and try to get down, but I recognize the musky sandalwood scent, and instantly relax.
“It’s me. Go back to sleep,” Viktor says, carrying me out of the bedroom.
“Where are you taking me?”
“Our bedroom,” he answers, like I should know.
He smells my hair as he walks. Once we’re through the door, he kicks it closed. There’s a strong smell of scotch on him, as if he’s had quite a few. He stands me in front of our bed and turns me so he can unzip my dress which pools on my feet. He snaps my bra off, shreds my panties with his hand, and then turns me back to face him. I can’t take my eyes off him as he takes his clothes off. I never stood a chance. I’ve been lying to myself. Viktor has my heart, body, and soul. He takes my hand and leads us to the shower.
We barely make it to the walk-in shower before he kisses me. We share no words, having our conversation with our bodies. He pushes me against the wall. His lips trace my neck. He doesn’t follow the pattern of his usual visceral attacks. He takes his time. His lips stop every so often to pay attention to a particular area. I hold onto the wall so I don’t float away. Next, his attention is on my breasts. He alternates between kissing, licking, pinching, and soft bites.
“Viktor,” I plead.
I feel desperate. My need for him is greater than my need for air. He continues, not interested in stopping or being merciful. He picks me up, and his fingers dig into my skin. If it weren’t for that sensation, I’d think I was dreaming.
“You drive me crazy,” he whispers in my ear.
Without warning, he thrusts inside me, abandoning his slow torture. I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him closer. I want him to fill me. This is where I want to be. I need him. He continues, and I build. With every second, my body screams for more. I bite down on his shoulder as my orgasm takes over. But he doesn’t slow down. He thrusts faster—harder—prolonging my orgasm.
“Fuck!” He groans as he finds his release.
We pant uncontrollably. He gently sets me down as our breathing evens. I’m surprised when he grabs the loofah and gently starts washing me. He takes his time, taking extra care of my sensitive areas. The heat builds. I am ready for him to claim me again.
“Always wet for me.” He chuckles.
He sets me under the shower head to rinse off while he quickly bathes himself. I can’t stop looking at him. Such a mundane act, but for me, he’s like a drug. I can’t get enough of him.
He gets under the showerhead with me, kissing me once more.
“I need you.” It’s the last thing I say before he claims me again.
“Here.” I look at Viktor as he hands me one of his T-shirts.
“I thought you said I couldn’t wear a man’s clothes,” I tease.
“You’ll only wear mine. It’s getting late. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”
“Why am I wearing a T-shirt?” I tease.
“Because if you’re naked in bed, we won’t get any sleep.” He smacks my ass.
“Fine. If I must.” I pout miserably. I lay in bed waiting for him to put on boxers. “You’re so sexy.”
“Haven’t you had enough? Are four hours not enough for you?” He mocks me gently.
“It was not four hours.”
He holds me closer. “Tonight should never have happened. I’m going to make it right. I’ll take care of everything.” I look at him. I want to believe him. But lately, it seems all he does is tell me how something should not have happened.
“It wasn’t your fault,” I tell him.
“She wasn’t supposed to be there. Even my mother was blindsided.” He kisses the top of my head.
“Your father won’t relent. He isn’t going to let us get married. I’m not the woman he wants you to marry.”
“We will be married.”
“You sound so certain. I don’t want to be the reason your family falls apart.”
“My family was broken long before you came along.”
I want to ask what he means. But I don’t have to because he continues. “My father has never been a fair man. He loves power more than he loves his own blood. Growing up, his lessons were about how to take and destroy. I’ve been groomed to rule. The only time I’ve seen a second of emotion from him was when my mother brought Oliver home. I don’t believe he loved him more. It was because he had two people who would do his bidding. It meant he had two people who would walk through a sea of flames without questioning him. That is what a Manarch does.”
“Have you always worked?”
“It was private schools during the day and how to kill and destroy at night.”
“That sounds horrible.”
“But it’s the past.”
“You’re not your father, Viktor. Don’t let him turn you into him.”
“I’m worse. I’ve done so much evil in this world.” There’s shame in his voice. I pop my head up from his chest and place my hand on his cheek.
“You’re a wonderful, thoughtful, amazing man who I’m lucky to be with. Viktor, I’m in love with you. I love you more every day.” He stares at me and I see the dark hunger in his eyes. It’s clear our conversation is over.
So much for going to sleep.