INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 31
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
I did it.
I went against my own word, and I’m torn between what’s worse: that I found it indescribably enjoyable or that I actually want it to happen again.
Genevieve King has always had the uncanny ability to throw my mind into chaos, stirring up all these strange, jittery feelings in my chest—a fact I can’t deny. I know what we did was reckless, and I shouldn’t even be contemplating doing it again.
But it’s not my fault she has this effect on me. She’s made me do things I’ve never done with any of my other s+x buddies, as she likes to call them. It’s absurd to even consider adding her to the list of women who’ve never come close to giving me what she just did.
I mean, I had my first kiss just yesterday, and now I find myself yearning to kiss her again. I know I’m heading straight for trouble.
“I’m sleepy,” Genevieve said, her exhaustion evident as she perched on the bathroom counter I had set her on. “Dominic, I’m sleepy.”
A laugh escaped me. “I heard you the first time. Stay put; I’ll be right back.”
“Right.”
I returned to my bedroom, grabbed one of my shirts—because I love seeing her in my clothes—and walked back to her. She was still there, her head turned toward the mirror as she smiled at her reflection.
“Your face is making you smile?” I asked, approaching her with a teasing tone.
“Yes.”
I helped clean her up and slipped my shirt over her. The sight made a wide grin spread across my face. “Now you can sleep.”
Genevieve glanced down at the shirt and frowned. “It’s not black.”
“Yes, and?”
“I don’t wear anything that isn’t black.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything, Vixen.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
Her frown morphed into a smirk. “Does that mean I’ll get to wear your clothes when we get back?”
I didn’t need to answer; my actions spoke for me as I carried her back to the room and laid her on the bed. She lifted her head and pressed her lips to mine before curling to her side to sleep.
Kissing Genevieve King felt more natural than breathing. It wasn’t awkward, and I didn’t want it to end; I found myself wishing it could last, even though I knew I shouldn’t.
I freshened up and climbed into bed beside her. The urge to pull her petite body against mine was nearly unbearable, but I resisted, opting instead to stare at the ceiling and suppress the desire.
However, Genevieve shifted closer, burying her face against my chest. A small, satisfied smile crept onto my face, and I couldn’t hold back any longer. I turned to my side and wrapped her in my arms.
She sighed in relief, her breathing syncing with mine as sleep enveloped me almost instantly. I made sure to place a gentle kiss on her forehead before drifting off into a nightmare-free slumber.
✷✷✷✷
“What the héll?!”
That’s what jolted me awake. I forced my eyes open, instantly blinded by the sunlight streaming through the curtains I hadn’t drawn.
Unsurprisingly, Genevieve wasn’t in bed or even in the room. Rubbing my palms over my face, I sluggishly climbed out of bed and made my way to the living room.
I didn’t need to search to pinpoint her location—the kitchen. I approached her quietly, but it was futile; she always sensed when I was nearby.
“What are you doing?” I asked, surveying the chaos on the counter.
“I’m hungry.”
“That doesn’t answer my question, Genevieve.”
“I want eggs.”
It was pretty clear given the mess of broken eggs on the counter and the charred remnants in the pan. But hey, it’s the thought that counts, right?
“I’ll take care of it.” I stepped forward, and she moved back to give me space. “I’m guessing you want them fried?”
“Yeah.”
I chuckled, finding it amusing to watch her attempt to fry an egg when cooking wasn’t exactly her forte—no judgment, though.
••
Genevieve King always loves to insist, and when she does, I often find myself agreeing with her. It’s a bà d habit I should probably break.
But not today, since we’re at a bar downtown, even though I initially said I didn’t want to come. She didn’t force me, but I couldn’t let her be here alone, especially with all the morónic guys vying for her attention.
I’m not sure what’s more irritating: her stunning beauty or the amount of attention she garners whenever she’s out.
Just like right now, she was having fun dancing while I kept my eyes on her. My phone rang in my pocket, and I pulled it out to see my sister's name flashing on the screen.
"You finally called," I said as soon as I tapped the green icon.
"Well, hello to you, too." Rory's voice met my ears. "How are you?"
"Good. You?"
"Great. Where are you? It sounds noisy."
"I'm at a bar. How are things going with you? You sure you're good?"
"I am perfect, thank you for asking. When did you start going to bars?"
That's a good question, one I didn’t have a clear answer for.
"Genevieve made me."
Aurora made a knowing sound, hinting at something I was all too aware of.
"Don't make that sound."
"What sound?" she teased.
"Whatever, just take care of yourself."
"Sure. Has she finally gotten to you?"
Yes and yes.
But I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I said, "Bye."
Before I could hang up, I heard her laugh and mutter to herself, "She has, hasn't she? I knew she could."
It wasn't long after that when the bastà rd from the day we went bungee jumping approached dancing Genevieve. It took everything in me not to push off of the wall, storm over to him, and land a few punchs to his face.
My gaze remained locked on them as he spoke to her. She even laughed at something he said, which only fueled my brewing angér. I couldn’t focus on anything else happening around me, especially not the girl who tried to talk to me.
But at least that made those blue eyes clash against mine, and she finally left the idiót, not before throwing him a smile.
"Who called?"
Oh, so she had been paying attention to me while she danced. New information that may or may not have cooled my rage just a smidgen.
I wasn't about to just give her that info after she let that boy talk to her, so I retorted, "Someone."
Genevieve rolled her eyes as she replied, "Oh, really? I thought it was an animal; thanks for clearing up that confusion."
I couldn't help but laugh, even though I was upset with her. That’s the kind of power I keep saying she has over me.
"Do you like that boy?"
I needed to know, like I needed to breathe. I know it’s irrational to equate those feelings, but it illustrates how desperate I am for her to be only mine.
And yes, I said it!
"Eww, no."
Those two words leaving her mouth delighted me beyond measure; however, I couldn't let it show just yet.
"You seem fond of him."
She looked up at me with a challenging expression. "It's called being polite."
"I don't like your politeness, then. Quit it."
Genevieve beamed one of her signature smiles. "You know, jealousy really suits you."
No, it doesn’t.
I mean, I'm not jealous.
I mirrored her wide smile, and her eyes dropped from mine to my lips. "Yeah, and I bet he’d look good with a búllet in his head."
I expected her to say something—anything—that would tell me not to do it. But all she did was smirk, anticipation and mischief gleaming in those chaotic blue orbs of hers.
Anticipation for what, you may ask. I think I have an idea.
..
Genevieve was seated like the innocent girl she is not, staring out the window as I drove us back to the apartment. It was drizzling, and it looked like it would finally rain tonight.
"Have you ever danced in the rain?" Her question surprised me both because it was sudden and out of the blue.
"No."
"Why?"
"Why should I?" I corrected. "Dancing is lame; I don't do that, and rain is not that big of a deal."
She glanced at me. "What? Rain is great! I love it when it rains."
"That's because you are used to it. It rains all the time in the UK."
"No, it doesn't."
She knows I’m right.
I pulled over the car right in front of the apartment, and she jumped out before I could properly park. I watched her as she rounded the car to come to my side under the now pouring rain.
"What are you doing?"
I asked because I had a feeling she was about to make me do something I hadn't done before.
"Let’s dance."
I scoffed, stepping out of the car. A chuckle followed my scoff. "Yeah, I'm not doing that."
"I wasn’t asking." Genevieve took my hand in hers, pulling me further away from the car. "Trust me, this is fun."
"It doesn't sound or look like fun."
"Do you trust me?"
She knew exactly what she was doing, hitting me with that question while her piercing, hypnotizing gaze was locked onto mine.
She understands the power her eyes hold over me, and now she was using it to her advantage.
"It's fine if you don't."
See? She's doing it again.
I must admit, she has a knack for manipulatión. Not that I would classify this as manipulatión, but I know I should.
I sighed, feeling resigned. "Fine, I trust you."
It's strange, though—I do trust her. I mean, I sleep in the same bed with her, and that’s quite a lot on my part.
Her eyes sparkled with victorious excitement. "Yay."
By now, we were both drenched, standing directly under the frigid downpour. Her hair clung to her face, making her look even more breathtaking.
How can she look so beautiful, even when soaked to the bone?
It's a mystery I’m certain I will never solve. I simply allowed myself to enjoy the sight of God's favorite creation standing before me, staring back at me.
"You do know how to dance, right?" she asked.
Yes and no.
Yes, Aurora had forced me to learn ballroom dancing when she was leaving middle school back in Russia. And no, I didn't want to, but if it meant seeing that bright grin on Genevieve's face and the sparkle in her eyes, I'd do it a million times over.
"Dominic," Genevieve pressed.
"Is there anything I can't do?"
"I’m sure if I put my mind to it, I’ll find out." She smiled. "Hold me."
Her orders were becoming more frequent, to the point where they didn’t even sound like orders anymore. Regardless, I wrapped my arms around her waist, and she positioned her hands as well.
We began to dance, moving to the rhythm of the pouring rain, smiles lighting up our faces. This wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be. Everything I did with her turned out to be an exciting adventure.
There wasn’t any music playing, but we were in sync with our movements. For once, I was grateful for the sound of the rain that I had always despiséd. For once, I didn’t hà te it. For once, I didn’t roll my eyes and cúrse at it; she made that possible.
Genevieve King was weaving herself deeply into my life, and I feared that once she reached my soul, it would be too late to back out.
That is, if she hadn’t gotten to it already.
She didn’t give me a chance to dwell on that thought when her lips met mine. I hadn’t been prepared for her to kiss me, but I didn’t hesitate to reciprocate immediately.
Let me focus on the present. If she ever reaches my soul, I’ll find a way to deal with it. I always do.
TBC
No comments