INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 61
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
Life has a way of throwing curveballs, and right now, mine feels as unpredictable as ever. Just two hours ago, I was at the base, drowning in my own misery, and now I find myself cradling Genevieve in my arms.
How did I shift from despair to this unexpected serenity?
I can still picture the glare I shot at Sal when he brought up Genevieve—wondering why she hadn’t been around. The air in the base was thick with tension, everyone, including Dexter, tiptoeing around me, their unease palpable. It was clear: Genevieve’s absence weighed heavily on them, and my perpetual scowl didn’t help the atmosphere.
I’ve often thought of her as the calm in my storm, but that would be a grave misrepresentation. No, Genevieve King is the storm itself—a ferocious hurricane capable of wreakiñg havóc in its wake, especially on me.
Her eyes hold a power that continually astounds me. Those mesmerizing ocean blue orbs, wild and tumultuous, could rival the North Sea in their ferocity. I know the dangérs of navigating the depths of her gaze, yet I find myself willingly drowning in them.
She embodies everything I shouldn’t desire and everything I can’t resist. From that first kiss, I realized that once I tasted her, I would never be able to want anything else.
Genevieve was meant to be the bane of my existence, merely a pawn in my quest for revenge. Little did I know she would become the focal point of my every desire, the woman who would face down every nightmare that haunted me, ultimately becoming my salvation.
Yet, I can’t help but wonder: Will she still look at me with that same love if she discovers I am her damnatioñ? Will her eyes continue to shine with affection when she learns of the brutà l plan I’ve devised for Kyle Walker, her father?
If it comes to that, will she walk away without a second glance? Such a thought strikes me with a pang of paÃn that I know I wouldn’t recover from. But what about her?
Will she forget everything that transpired between us? The laughter, the teasing, the eye rolls, the shared tears, the scolding glares, the tender kisses—will all of it fade from her memory?
As if sensing my turmoil, Genevieve playfully ruffled my hair before brushing it from my forehead, only for it to fall back into place. A laugh escaped her lips, light yet tinged with something deeper. "If you keep looking at me like I’m about to vanish, I might just do it."
A painéd whimper escaped her lips, and as I registered the sound, I glanced down to find the source of her discomfort. It dawned on me that my grip on her waist had tightened more than intended, an involuntary reaction to her words.
"Sorry," I murmured, loosening my hold just a fraction but not entirely.
She pouted, a playful annoyance evident in her voice. "Are you going to keep saying sorry? Because it's getting really annoying."
"Sorry."
"Dominic," she drawled, an adorable frown creasing her beautiful face.
I knew I could resist if I tried hard enough, but I was too drained to put up a fight. My palm glided over her smooth cheek, and she sighed, leaning into my touch, craving more.
My Vixen missed me as much as I missed her.
As my fingers roamed her face, my gaze fell to her glossy lips. The temptation to claim them was overwhelming. Just a month or two ago, I said I am addicted to her, and now, after five long days apart, the urge was maddeñing.
I leaned in, the need to taste her growing insatiable, as vital as the blóod coursing through my veins. Just as my lips were about to meet hers, she turned away, causing my mouth to graze her cheek.
I pulled back, shocked and speechless. Her single action pierced my heart like a searing blade, and I was certain she knew the impact.
"We can’t," she said softly.
"We can’t—or you can’t?"
Is she already over me?
Is this the love she has professed for me? Or has someone else captured her attention? Is it Lima?
Genevieve swallowed, her lips glistening as she attempted to shift off my lap. I tightened my grip on her waist, drawing another whimper from her. "Dominic, you’re right, I can’t."
"Why?"
"B-because..."
She stuttered. Why was she stuttering?
I felt frustration bubble inside as I blurted out words I shouldn’t have. "Have you replaced me?"
As soon as the words left my mouth, embarrassment crashed over me. Good Lord, I sounded like a heartbroken teenager pining for an ex.
And Genevieve isn’t even my ex! So why the héll did I sound like that?
"With Lima?" As I cursed myself for that outrageous slip, another thought tumbled out.
Confusion flickered across her face before she scoffed, followed by that absurdly soothing laughter I had grown to love. "It's Liam."
"Do I look like I care what his name is?"
"Actually, yeah, because this is the second time you’ve brought him up in our conversation."
"I’m not bringing him up. You’re the one acting uncharacteristically friendly with him."
"Maybe because we're friends. He's not a bà d guy, Dom."
"I don’t care." I snapped. "He likes you."
"I know that."
"Stop hanging out with him."
It wasn't a request; it was a command. From the look on her face, it was clear she wasn't about to comply. But she didn’t voice her dissent; instead, she cradled my face in her delicate palms, an assuring smile gracing her lips.
I steeled myself for whatever she was about to say, though I wasn't prepared for her actual words. "I am yours, Dominic, even if you are not mine. I wasn’t lying when I said I love you because I do—deeply. Liam is nothing but a friend to me." Her fingers wove into my hair, massaging my scalp. "And the day I replace you is the day héll freezes over."
Doesn't that mean never?
"I am yours, too, Vixen."
"It doesn't feel that way, though." Her voice was low, her gaze averted from mine. "You know what? Let's not talk about this. You need to take your medication, or else your body will only heat up more."
Once again, she tried to slip away, and this time, I let her go. I rose, sensing she wouldn’t elaborate on her earlier statement. Genevieve busied herself with arranging my medication and some food on my desk.
"Gen." No response. "Gen." Still nothing, not even a glance. I closed my fist around her forearm, turning her to face me. A startled gasp escaped her lips as she looked up at me, wide-eyed. "What do you mean by ‘you don’t feel it anymore’? What the héll does that even mean?"
"You're húrting me, Dominic."
"You’re doing the same to me, Genevieve."
"Let go." She struggled to break free, but it was futile. "Dominic, let me go. You're seriously húrting me."
As those words left her mouth, I released her as if she had burnéd me. A single tear slipped down her cheek, and I stepped back, cursiñg myself for inflicting yet another woúnd.
"You should take your medication. I’m going home."
"Please, don’t." I pleaded sharply, grasping her wrist. "I’m sorry, baby. Please, don’t leave. Can’t you see how miserà ble I am without you?"
"Don’t do that."
Confused, I asked, "Do... d-do what?"
"That." Her eyes darted across my face. "Don’t make that face. Don’t emotionally blackmà il me to stay. I can’t do this; it húrts... it húrts so much."
The more I realized the paÃn I was causing her, the more I longed to gut myself with a kñife, to feel at least a fraction of the tormént I inflicted.
Her face was streaked with tears, her body trembling as if she were clinging to the last thread of her composure.
"I’m stúpid, aren’t I? Falling in love with an emotionally unavailable man—what is wrong with me?" Genevieve sobbed.
Her cries would echo in my dreams, or should I say my nightmares?
"There is nothing wrong with you."
This... this was the very reason I despÃsed love. All it did was complicate everything and weaken people. I hadn’t been like this before; now, tears spilled from my eyes at the sight of my shattered Genevieve.
My beautiful, beautiful Vixen.
"Then why don’t you love me?" she groaned, aggressively brushing her hair back. "God, I sound pathetic. I sound like a desperate loser."
I shook my head, the words I wanted to say trapped in my throat. When I lifted my hands to pull her close, she stepped back, creating a chasm between us—both physically and emotionally.
"I should go," she breathed. "The prescriptions are right there. You just have to heat up the food and take the medication."
"No."
"No?" she repeated, as if unsure she had heard correctly.
"If you’re leaving, I won’t take anything."
"Dominic, I’m the one who should be acting like a child here, not you. Stop being stubborn and just take your medication."
"No."
"Dominic," Genevieve snapped, her frustration palpable.
"If you leave, I won't take them."
"You're being childish."
"I learned from you." I shot back, a hint of defiance lacing my tone.
She let out a heavy sigh, a sound laced with resignation. "Dom, you can’t toy with your health. Please, take the food and the medication."
"No."
"Goddà mn it!" Genevieve exclaimed, slapping her palm against my desk, her glare burning through me, dried tears still lingering on her cheeks. "I’m leaving, and I don’t care if you take them or not."
No, that wasn’t how I wanted this to unfold.
Desperation clawed at my mind as I searched for anything that might anchor her to this room. The only thought that flickered through my consciousness was bound to provoke her. "Really? Is that how little you love me?"
It worked.
Genevieve halted, slamming my door shut with a force that reverberated through the office before marching toward me. "You did not just say that."
"What if I did? Am I wrong? If you’re willing to abandon me while I’m sick, it just proves how little you care."
I was an à $shole.
"What do you know about love? You can’t even acknowledge the glaring truth that you love me, so how dare you belittle my feelings for you?" Her palm struck my chest, causing me to stagger back. "You’re utterly oblivious to your own emotions, yet here you are, lecturing me on love. What do you know about love, Dominic Morozov? What exactly do you know?"
She was furious, her blue eyes blazing with a mix of añger and húrt. I knew I should apologize, but her words hung in the air, too charged for me to speak.
I wanted to mend the rift I had created. I reached for her face, intending to soften the moment, "I..."
"Don’t touch me." Her voice was low, but the clarity was undeniable. If I had any doubt, her body language made it clear. "Don’t you dare touch me. I don’t know why I keep putting myself through this. I should just forget you and move on with my life, but it's proving impossible. Maybe if I try harder, I can succeed. Perhaps I should stop waiting around for you to keep húrting me. I deserve better than this, Dominic."
She did. She truly did.
"That’s another reason I can’t accept it. I don’t understand what you see in me that makes you think you love me. I’m not worth it, Vixen."
"You don’t get to decide that. I do! Whether I’m worth it or not, that’s for me to determine—and I have. I love you. I f+ckÃng love you, Dominic, and I can’t stop loving you anytime soon. Yes, I may be a foól for falling, but in my defense, I had no say in what my heart desires, and it desires you."
"Then make it stop."
I loathéd this back and forth.
"I can’t!" Genevieve's voice echoed through the walls, the sound reverberating in the dimly lit office. Tears threatened to spill again, but this time she held them back. "I’m going home."
I should have remained silent and let her go. That would have been the right choice. But instead, I found myself moving toward her as she reached for the door, my hands encircling her waist, my gaze locked onto her still furious yet questioning eyes. "You want me to say it, don’t you?"
"What?"
With every ounce of strength I could muster, I forced out the words she so desperately wanted to hear. "I love you. I love you, Genevieve. I. Love. You."
It was a mere concession, a desperate attempt to soothe her, yet in that moment, it felt achiñgly right.
TBC
No comments