The Mafia And His Obsession: Part 1 by Lylah James

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 25

 

 

Viktor

 

The truth stared right at me, glaring. I fought against the urge to scrunch the paper up and throw it away. And then I wanted to shake some sense into Valerie.

This is wrong. I am married.

I mentally laughed. Married? Fuck no. She was married by name, but it fucking meant nothing.

Valentin only wanted to corrupt her innocence—mold her into something she wasn’t.

I had been way past raging when I walked into Valerie’s room. In her presence, little by little—I felt myself warming up again.

But now, I remembered everything Valentin said.

He had stumbled into the library, holding a bottle of rum in his hand. It was probably his second or third bottle, because he was drunk enough to fall flat on his ugly face.

His drunken words—it snapped something in me. For a moment, I had almost forgotten that I was supposed to be Konstantin.

Tightest pussy ever.

You gotta try it sometime.

Best lay I ever had.

Made her bleed. Sweetest fucking thing.

Maybe I’ll fuck her ass tomorrow.

Collared the little bitch. Made her my whore.

He told me in detail how he broke her and how he intended to break her more.

I sat there—listening, raging, and wishing I could give him the worst death.

If he thought hell would be his final destination, his final death—then he needed to rethink, because by the time I was done with him, hell would be his heaven.

He was going to beg me to send him there—but I wouldn’t.

The marks he left on Valerie, he needed to feel those marks ten times worse.

I knew my silent myshka would be hurting—my heart clenching and my chest hurting at the mere thought.

When Valentin fell into his drunken slumber, I couldn’t wait anymore.

And now—I just wanted to hold her.

I glanced at her written words again and up at her face. Her hazel eyes, they were filled with so much sadness. As if saying the words had broken something in her.

It might have been the truth—but we could turn this wrong into something right.

Only if she was willing.

“Do you want me to leave?” I asked, hoping and wishing she would say no.

Valerie looked down at the paper again, and I saw her tear fall. A single drop, wetting the paper, right over the word “wrong.”

She looked up, another tear trailing down her cheek. Her tears were my undoing. They had the power to break me.

Valerie didn’t answer. She bit on her lips and looked down again, her fists clenching around her notepad.

I knew she didn’t want me to go—but I needed her to make a choice.

Standing up, I gave her a final glance and turned around—walking away.

I was crossing the middle of the room when I heard rustling and then feet padding quickly across the room. I swiveled around, just in time to catch Valerie in my arms.

She wrapped her arms around my waist, holding on tight. I blinked in shock, my body frozen in place. I could only hold her in my embrace.

It was almost in slow motion as she went on her tip-toes, moving closer until our lips were inches apart.

And then she closed the little distance between our lips.

She kissed me. Slowly and softly. So gently. A chaste kiss, just our lips touching, meeting, and making slow, sweet love.

It wasn’t a kiss I was accustomed to. I had never had someone kiss me like this.

My lips didn’t move against hers, too shocked to respond. Valerie shyly pulled back, her cheeks red, beautifully blushing. She stared up at me through her thick eyelashes, biting on her pink full lips.

Her chest heaved, her lips parting as she took in deep, harsh breaths. Her arms grew tight around my waist, and then she was letting go.

I let her.

Valerie took a step back, her hand coming up to her lips. She appeared surprised too at her action.

She took another step back. When the distance grew between us, my arm lashed forward, gripping her wrist and stopping her retreat.

Our arms were outstretched. My hand trailed down from her wrist until our fingers were laced together.

I didn’t think she would, but her fingers gripped mine back, accepting my hold. We stayed like for what felt like hours—but I knew it was seconds. This was us—our moment.

“Pull me closer,” I said, my voice low and rough to my own ears, filled with unsaid emotions. “Tell me not to leave.”

Her fingers tightened around mine, and she blinked, her lips parting and her breathing accelerating. “But I am going to give you a warning.” I looked into her eyes. “If you pull me closer, I am going to kiss you. I am going to really kiss you, Valerie.”

I waited.

She stopped breathing.

Maybe I did too.

And when Valerie stepped toward me, we breathed.

She pulled me closer.

Another step and my heart thumped harder.

Finally, we stood inches apart. So close, our chests touching—our bodies molding into each other’s embrace.

I brought my free hand up, holding the back of her neck and pulling her toward me. She gasped silently and then I kissed her.

I really kissed her.

I kissed her the way I’d always wanted to.

And I kissed her the way she deserved to be kissed.

Her lips parted, and I took the chance to explore her. There was nothing soft and gentle about the kiss.

It was a kiss that wasn’t meant to be forgotten. Our tongues danced together, swirling, teasing, and making us crave more.

The kiss—it told her was she mine.

I deepened the kiss, and she returned it with the same fervor.

This moment, it was intense, passionate, wild, dangerous. And it felt so fucking right. More right than ever.

I fisted her hair, keeping her face angled just right. With one of our hands laced together, her other hand came up to my face. She touched me—oh so gently. Her fingers feathered over my rough stubble, holding me into our kiss.

We anchored each other.

Valerie deepened the kiss, and I captured her bottom lip, biting softly before plunging my tongue into her mouth again.

We were both gasping for breath when we finally pulled away. Valerie sagged into my arms, burying her face into my chest. Our clasped hands stayed locked together, between us, right over my wildly treacherous beating heart.

I didn’t believe in fate and destiny. That shit didn’t work for us, made men. We controlled our own lives. I controlled my own fucking life. It was in my hands, and I decided what happened to it.

But right this moment, against my own beliefs, I just knew this was it.

The moment we laid eyes on each other—this was meant to happen.

Our fates were sealed. Together.

My fingers feathered over her skin, right over her fucking collar. Gripping the back of her neck gently, I made her look up at me.

I dropped my forehead to hers, and we breathed together, lost in this forbidden moment. When I knew her eyes were on my lips, I finally spoke.

“There is no turning back, silent myshka.”