INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 70
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
It has been one week. One entire week since I became Genevieve's boyfriend. Seven exquisite days filled with constant calls and messages exchanged between us, nearly every second of the day.
I had no idea that being owned, committed, devoted to someone could be as electrifying as it is captivating. Not just anyone, but Genevieve King—the very embodiment of beauty, confidence, and a radiant spirit that lights up everything around her.
Though she doesn’t come by the office or my place as often as she used to, busy with preparations for university, she ensures I receive enough of her time and attention to stave off any jealousy over Suncrest University, affectionately known as SU.
And before you say anything, yes, I understand that being envious of a mere building is utterly absurd, but I can’t help it. I am incredibly proud of her for excelling in her exams and graduating with outstanding results, yet it doesn’t change the fact that I want my girlfriend around.
The sound of my office door opening caught my attention, and without glancing up from my computer, I muttered, "Go away," to whoever dared to intrude.
Only a handful of people have the audacity to enter my office without knocking: Aurora, Dexter, my uncle Ivan, and...
Genevieve’s dramatic gasp filled the air, prompting my head to whip around. There she was, every bit the stunning girlfriend I adored, her eyes sparkling as they locked onto mine.
"Are you sending me out?" she teased, her tone playful and light. "That is so rude."
A grin spread across my face as I leaned back in my swivel chair, pushing it gently to fully appreciate the sight before me. "Come here," I beckoned, my fingers curling in an inviting gesture.
Her face lit up with a radiant smile, resembling a ray of sunshine. The joy in her eyes mirrored the happiness swelling in my chest.
"I thought you wanted me to," she teased, mimicking my earlier words with a playful frown. "‘Go away.’"
"Slip of the tongue."
"Hmmm, maybe you should tell your tongue to be careful. You don’t want it slipping again."
"Actually, I wouldn’t mind it slipping into your mouth."
Genevieve beamed at me, and I could feel the heat rise to my cheeks under her gaze. She sashayed towards me, commanding my full attention as she always did, a mischievous smirk gracing her stunning features.
"I don’t think my boyfriend will like that."
I smirked, pulling her close between my open legs. Her hands found their way to my shoulders, and she struggled to suppress the smile threatening to spill over. "Yeah? So, if I kiss you right now, what will happen to me?"
"I don’t know. It’s his choice, you know. He’s very dangerous and a ‘mess with me and I will kÃll you’ type of person, and he’s very oppressive too."
"I think I could take him."
"No, you cannot." She shook her head. "He’s in the mà fia."
"I happen to be in the mà fia too.
"Well, he is the head of the Brà tva."
"Hmmm, so am I." My hands found their place on her waist, the familiar territory where they belonged. I stood up, lifting her effortlessly onto my desk, positioning myself between her legs. "Who do you choose to believe?"
"My boyfriend."
"And who is your boyfriend?"
"His name is Dominic Morozov."
"My name is Dominic Morozov."
We both laughed, our gazes locked in that unbreakable connection we shared, as if the world around us had vanished. It was as though nothing else mattered, and we would gladly surrender our time to this moment instead of any mundane obligation.
"You look beautiful," I whispered, my thumb tracing soft circles on her waist, my focus solely on her face.
Genevieve's expression lit up with a smug, mischievous glint as she shrugged one shoulder. "When am I never?"
Holy héll. Every time I think she can't possibly become more confident or self-assured, she proves me wrong.
Jesus Christ, my girlfriend is stunning. It’s no wonder that every guy, especially that boy Liam, seems to want her for themselves. But unfortunately for them—and fortunately for me—her eyes are only on me.
I don’t know why, but somehow, she truly sees me.
"You know what? You're right." I conceded, my tone cautious, for the truth was undeniable, and I couldn’t risk upsetting her. "You are always pretty—beautiful, in fact."
"Oh, I know."
"What are you doing here? I thought you said you were busy."
"I was. But I missed your face so much that I decided to sneak a peek."
"I don’t think you know what a sneak peek is, Baby."
"Yeah? Care to enlighten me?"
I fell silent, sensing the dare woven into her words. It’s not that I feared her wrath... okay, maybe I did—just a tiny bit.
Alright, that’s a lie; it’s more than just a tiny bit.
"I love you," I said, hoping to distract her, and thankfully, it worked.
Her smile radiated, her eyes lighting up like they always did at my words. "Ah, look at you, you found my off button."
"I know, right?" I paused, brushing a stray strand of hair from her ponytail. "But seriously, I do love you."
A slow smile spread across Genevieve's face, morphing into a grin that could rival the sun. She removed her hands from the desk, placing her palms on either side of my chest. "Can you say that again?"
There she was again, looking at me as if she didn’t see the shadows that lingered in my soul—accepting me as I was, dark and all.
Why?
"I love you," I repeated, the words flowing easily, surprisingly light on my tongue.
Perhaps it was the sheer number of times I had uttered those words in the past week, or perhaps it was the sincerity behind them that made them feel so genuine.
I let out a relieved sigh, basking in this rare moment of peace and tranquility with her in my arms. Wrapping my hands around her ribs, I pulled her close, but not too tight—just enough to let her know she was cherished. Genevieve didn’t hesitate to reciprocate, her warmth enveloping me. As always, I buried my head in the crook of her neck, inhaling her intoxicà ting scent.
"You’re never going to stop doing that, are you?" she asked, her tone light and shaky with laughter.
"Nope." I replied, popping the 'p'. "I love the way you smell, Vixen."
"And I love the way you smell too."
"Yeah, I know that. That’s why you’ve stolen almost all my hoodies."
Genevieve gasped dramatically, slapping my arm playfully. "Borrowed," she corrected, dragging out the word. "I borrowed them."
"Haven't their return date passed?"
"Nope, not yet. They still have your scent."
"So, you’ll return them when they don’t smell like me anymore?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. She nodded. "And what happens next?"
"I’ll wait for you to wash and wear them, then take them back." Genevieve said it so casually, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Duh."
Duh?
"You can take as many as you want, Baby."
"Thanks," she beamed, her sweetest smile directed at me. But this was Genevieve we were talking about; sweetness wasn’t her forte unless it was sugar going into her mouth. I knew something was coming. "But I don’t need your permission."
Ah, there it was.
I shook my head, at a loss for words, stepping closer to her. She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, tilting her head, waiting for my response.
DÃ mn her perceptiveness; she could read my every unspoken thought.
"Do you have plans tonight?"
"Yeah."
I sighed, disappointment washing over me. I had wanted to take my girlfriend out on our first date as an official couple.
"You’re not going to ask me what my plans are?"
I flicked my gaze from the ground, which had suddenly become fascinating, back to her. Confused and curious, I asked, "What are your plans, Genevieve?"
"I’m having dinner with Liam."
F+ck, that name.
I couldn’t escape it.
Liam, Liam, Liam, Liam, Liam—every dà mn time.
Okay, maybe not every time; perhaps I was overreacting and exaggerating. I shouldn’t feel this way about my girlfriend having dinner with a boy who had liked her since who knows when.
Yeah, I was fine. I was A-OK.
Maybe if I repeated it enough times, it would become my reality.
God, I just wanted to put a bullét in his head—just once. I was certain the sight of his blóod spilling would soothe me greatly.
"You have that look in your eyes again, Dominic."
"What look, Vixen?"
"This one." Genevieve tilted her head, indicating my eyes with a pointed glance. "The one that says, 'I want to see what he looks like bleéding out,' and I don't like it."
"I don't like you spending time with him, but you don’t hear me complaining."
"You actually do, about twice a day. You're always going on about how I should cut ties with him."
"I don’t complain."
"Ah, but you just did."
"No, I didn't."
"See? You’re doing it again."
"Genevieve," I said, my tone sharpening as her lips pressed together at the authority in my voice. "I don’t mind you going to dinner with Liam because I know you’re mine. But," I paused for effect, letting the weight of my words settle in. She registered the emphasis on 'mine'. "If I see him laying a finger on you under the guise of friendliness, I might just slÃt his throat and savor the slow démise that follows. That is, if he doesn’t succumb to the initial cut. Understood, love?"
"You’re a psychópath," she shot back.
"I prefer to think of myself as creative."
"Creative, my foot. You..." Her words faltered as I captured her lips with mine, silencing all protest.
The kiss was slow and sensual, a gentle exploration of lips that felt like the world had narrowed down to just the two of us. I could feel the warmth of her breath mingling with mine, igniting a fire deep within me that I had been trying to contain. Genevieve’s softness was intoxicatiñg, and every brush of her lips sent shivers racing through me.
But as I lost myself in the sweetness of her taste, a primal need surged to the forefront of my mind. I craved her. Obsesséd with the way her body molded against mine, I deepened the kiss, letting my hands cup her face, fingers tangling in her hair. The world around us faded, and all I could hear was the pounding of my heart, echoing the urgency that was building between us.
Genevieve responded instantly, her breath hitching as our kisses grew more urgent. She leaned into me, craving more, and I felt her warmth radiate against my chest. It was as if she could feel my desire, matching it with her own. Her hands found their way to my shoulders, then slid down my arms, pulling me closer, as if she wanted to become a part of me.
With each passing second, our kisses intensified, a dance of passion that made everything else disappear. I could hardly think; all I knew was her—the way she tasted, the way she melted against me. Every flick of her tongue against mine sent a jolt of electricity through my veins. I was lost, consumed by the need to have her, to show her just how much I craved her.
"Genevieve,” I murmured against her lips, barely able to hold back the urgency in my voice. "I asked a question."
"What?" Her eyes sparkled with desire, and she pulled me in closer, her lips crashing against mine with a fervor that took my breath away. It was a perfect storm of longing and need, and I knew then that I would never let her go. "Ugh, fine, he won't touch me. Now, kiss me."
TBC
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