INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 38
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
You ever get that ticking time bómb in your head, warning you that something majorly big and claustrophobic is about to happen, but you don't know exactly what it is?
Well, I completely relate to that messed-up instinct. If you're going to give me a warning, can you make it a little clearer for better understanding?!
The universe's answer was obviously no, which is why my head can't come to a fuckÃng conclusion about whose life needs to be eñded by yours truly.
DÃ mn universe!
Anyway, I did find my motivation to draw again. I know, it was weird for me, too. But one morning, I woke up before my alarm went off, overwhelmed by the unquenchable urge to grab a pencil and sketchbook to draw that one girl I can't get rid of.
Not if I want to drown in the deep waters of depression. The only waters I want to drown in are those dazzling ocean-blue eyes that shimmer whenever I look at them and get lost in them.
Genevieve King is one strange lady. She isn't one to give false compliments, so when she tells you that you look nice, you know she means it. For the past couple of months, she’s kept telling me that "you're beautiful," "your eyes are gorgeous," or her favorite, "you're breathtaking."
No matter how many times she says it, I'll never— and I repeat, never—get used to it. Just like I can't get used to her not being in my life. Rory says it’s "because you like her." I don’t know where the héll she got that from.
Yes, I do like Genevieve; however, my sister definitely wasn't talking about that with her weird winks and smiles she throws my way. I like Genevieve King to the extent of rethinking my decision to húrt her. Instead, my target has changed— I will have to húrt Kyle Walker.
She may never forgive me, but I can live with that instead of living without her. She is an important part of my life now, a drúg I can't and don't want to quit. I mean, why should I when she's one of the few people who has seen all of me—the not-so-good parts and the really bà d parts—and still looks at me like I am everything her heart desires?
It's weird, but the strangest part is the swelling feeling in my chest. Right now, she’s laughing at something I just said, and I can't help but be completely hypnotized by her smile.
If Genevieve King wants to kÃll me one day, she won't need guñs or knivés; her smile, that spark in her stunning eyes, and her words are just enough to do the job perfectly—those are her deà dly wéapons. If you remember when I said she would be my ruinatión, I always knew there was truth in that statement.
"So, you really cleared your schedule for this picnic?" Genevieve asked, as if she hasn't asked me a million times before. "Don't give me that look. I just want you to say it again; it's not every day a girl gets Dominic Morozov preparing a picnic for her."
That's right. This is my very first time preparing a picnic for someone, and it doesn't surprise me that I'm having another first with her again.
The air around us was cool, creating frequent gusts of wind that blew her hair. It wasn't impulsive this time; it was a pretty normal thing between us. So, It didn't surprise me when I reached out to brush her hair out of her face.
She fixed her gaze on me as time slowed, leaving me staring deep into her eyes because there was nothing better to do. Her intense gaze, however, couldn't surpass the twisted and messed-up sensation simmering in my chest. I hoped she couldn't read me like she always does because I know whatever is going on with me concerns her.
"And it's not every time Genevieve King gets to be a man's date to a picnic," I replied to her earlier statement. She arched her brows. "What?"
"A date?" Genevieve inquired. "Is this a date?"
Is it bà d that I want it to be?
No, no, this isn't right. I won't entertain thoughts this absurd; it will only prove Rory right, and I definitely don't like Genevieve like that.
Right?
"Do you want it to be?" My mouth decided to put itself to work since I was too enthralled by her.
"Does it mean it will be a date if I want it to be? What about what you want? Do you want it to be a date?"
"I don't do dates."
That was the truth. It is also true that I haven’t gone to such lengths of changing my lifelong plan because of just one person.
"Me neither."
"That's hard to believe."
"No, it's not. My standards are pretty high."
As they should be.
"Have you found someone who meets them?"
Genevieve nodded. "Yes."
It wasn’t exactly a good sign that I suddenly felt the urge to slÃt his throat, right? And the pain stabbiñg my chest was definitely just a health issue, yes?
Even those thoughts weren’t enough to quell the annoyance bubbling inside me as she smiled at me, blissfully unaware of the effect she was having. I poked my tongue against the inside of my mouth and hummed. "Who is he?"
Not that I would actually do anything drà stic to make him disappéar, you know, to meet her standards. If anyone should reach her standards, it should be me.
Wait... that didn’t sound right. I really wouldn’t mind if someone else met her standards—after all, she deserves the best.
Since she seemed reluctant to answer that question, I decided to ask another. "Better yet, does he know?"
"That he ticks all my boxes?" I nodded. Genevieve shook her head, a sad smile lingering on her lips. "Um, not yet. He might have an inkling, though."
So this definitely wasn’t a date—she had another man on her mind even while she was with me.
"Will you tell him?"
"Yes. Soon, in fact."
No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t understand why I felt so enraged by her having someone else who wasn’t me. That guy would get to see her smiles and laughter, be her solace like she is mine, and get lost in those dazzling eyes.
Whoever that messed-up person is, he would have the most amazing girl all to himself, and I would lose her.
"Hey, I was joking!" Genevieve's laughter pulled my gaze back to her. Her next words knocked the air out of my lungs—in a good way, of course. "No man is capable of taking me from you."
Maybe it was just me, but that sounded a lot like a promise. I couldn’t complain because I preferred it this way anyway.
"That wasn’t cool."
"You should have seen your face; it was hilarious."
"No, it was not!" I protested.
"It was, too."
I scoffed and rolled my eyes in exaggerated exasperation, earning another laugh from the beautiful goddess beside me, who was clearly enjoying herself at my expense.
"Aww, look who’s mà d. Do you know how adorable you look when you frown like that?" Genevieve shifted in front of me on her knees. "What? It’s not like I’m lying; you’re so cute." When I didn’t respond, just sipping my fruit mocktail, she took the cup from me, stealing my breath away as she used my straw while pinning me with a piercing gaze. "This is nice. What’s in it?"
Being the genius I am, I knew she wasn’t actually interested in the answer, and she proved me right by straddling my legs with a possessive confidence, as if she knew no one else had the right to do this but her.
Genevieve’s lips curled into a sedúctive smile, her gaze fixed on my mouth, causing my chest to rise and fall at an alarming pace, revealing just how much of an effect she had on me. "How about I make it up to you? Would that be okay?"
"Gen..."
"Shhh," she whispered, her index finger resting on my lips. I glanced down at her finger before my gaze flicked back to her ocean-blue eyes, only for her to wink suggestively at me. "So, should I?"
I suppose she saw the answer in my eyes because she tilted her head and claimed my lips—but not in the way I expected. It was just a light brush. When Genevieve noticed how her actions affected me, she shrugged nonchalantly, as if completely oblivious to what she had just done.
My gaze stayed on her as she picked up the cup and sipped from it again, coating her tongue in the sweet taste of the drink. She came onto me again, pecking me on the lips, not giving me a full kiss.
"Is this your plan for making it up to me?" I inquired. "If it is, then you're doing a bà d job."
"That's too bà d; I haven't even started yet." Another peck on my lips was followed by a sensual and slow short kiss that made me groan. "What? Should I stop?"
I was about to answer when she cut off every coherent word on my tongue by flicking her tongue against my lips. Although it was quicker than a millisecond, I tasted the drink on her tongue, making me crave her kiss even more.
That pretty much did it. I cupped her face in my palms, wasting no time in pressing my lips against hers. I bit down on her lip, eager to taste her on my tongue. She gasped, and I used that as an opportunity to enter her mouth.
I wrapped my hands around her waist, pulling her closer to my body while deepening the kiss. Our tongues fought for dominance, and the air was filled with pleasurable tension as she ground against me.
She drove me mà d with blissful ecstasy. The kiss was hot, passionate, and sensually paced—not too fast and not too slow.
The hunger and lúst we had for each other was glaringly clear as I shifted on my lap, repositioning her to drive me completely núts.
My eyes fluttered closed for a brief second when her clothed body pressed against my very er+ct bulgé, which threatenéd to burst if not freed from my pants, accompanied by a groan.
"F;ck, I want you so bà d," I told her under my breath, my hands fixing her in the position I wanted her in on my lap.
And surprisingly, she let me.
"And what are you going to do about it?" Genevieve King asked teasingly, moving on her own accord, sensually slow against my clothed eréction. "Huh? Tell me; I'd love to know what you plan on doing about that."
"Why tell you when I can show you?" My rhetorical question was barely out of my mouth before I rejoined our lips in an intense make-out session, our tongues moving together sinfúlly in sync.
Everything about her was siñful; I liked it more than I should. I craved it more than I should. I craved her even more.
Trailing her lips along my neck, marking me as hers, I threw my head back, enjoying her wet lips against my skin. "Whoa, can't wait."
Her tongue on my neck was heavenly—a blissful paradise where I received nothing but pleasure from the one and only Genevieve King, who had her hands wrapped around my shoulders, ignoring my attempts to stop her movements. With closed eyes, melodious sounds escaped her mouth.
And mine, by the way.
I could feel how wet she was right now, and I was sure she could feel how much I wanted her too. I decided to give her the attention she needed on her throbbing core, but not without a price. As if she read my mind, she shook her head, wordlessly telling me not to do that. However, I did it anyway—playing with the flimsy material covering her.
"What do you want?" I dared to ask with an egocentric smirk. "Tell me, Genevieve, and I'll give it to you."
I was going to make her say it. After all, it was only fair after she got me to admit that I wanted her back in Male.
"You." And she said it.
"I'm here, Vixen. What exactly do you want?" I couldn't help but continue to tease her, placing a kiss on her face dangeróusly close to her lips. "Tell me, Genevieve."
"F+ck me."
"What's the magic word?"
If she can use it on me, I can as well use it on her.
Genevieve opened her mouth to say something; however, a phone rang, cutting her off.
TBC
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