Insatiable Cravings – Episode 74

 

 

INSATIABLE CRAVINGS

Insatiable Cravings – Episode 74

Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game} 

TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.

Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.

By: Chukwuma Rejoice 

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

~ Genevieve ~

Taking a break at the beginning of the semester wasn’t exactly on my list of expectations when I started at SU, yet here I was, somehow finding myself in this predicament.

It’s not my fault, alright?! I just happen to have this incredibly good-looking boyfriend who I miss terribly. Honestly, it’s quite ridiculous how much I miss him. 

So, yes, I hopped onto one of the King’s private jets and flew all the way to Moscow, Russia. It’s December, and I knew it would be cold, but I didn’t quite anticipate just how cold it would be.

As soon as I stepped off the jet, I was met with a blast of frigid air that felt like a slap in the face. Snow was falling, and everywhere I looked, everyone was bundled up in their heaviest coats.

I was clad only in Dominic’s hoodie—which has now become mine—over an oversized shirt, teamed with a pair of midnight-black boots. A shiver coursed through me, and I trembled like a fish out of water.

And here comes the amusing part: the moment I shivered, one of the two men Dominic had assigned to ‘ensure my safety’ draped a coat over my shoulders. I smiled gratefully at him, but his lips didn’t so much as twitch in response.

Utterly rude, if you ask me.

That’s why I’m not a fan of being overly nice.

The other one offered me a water flask, his deep Russian accent resonating in a way that made it sound almost alien. “Here, it’s tea. I made it, so.”

Ew, I’m not a fan of tea.

I forced a polite smile and took it from him, muttering a reluctant, “thank you.”

Soon enough, a sleek black SUV pulled up, and the one who clearly had no interest in smiling quickly opened the door for me before I could even think of blinking—yes, I’m exaggerating, but it felt that way.

As the car cruised through the streets of Russia, I indulged in one of my audiobooks while watching the snowy scenery glide by. The streets were blanketed in white, and my word, it was stunning.

••

“He gave me tea,” I exclaimed in a playful, exasperated tone as I recounted the incident to my boyfriend, who was listening with an amused smile, as if I weren’t busy rambling on. “I hate tea.”

“You can’t blame him. Which Brit would hate tea? It’s practically in your blood,” Dominic replied, gazing up at me.

I noticed he looked quite worn out, so instead of him embracing me like he usually would, I decided to let him be the one needing comfort today. He rested his head on my lap while I ran my fingers through his tousled hair, massaging his scalp in a way that made his eyelids flutter shut.

“Well, it’s not in mine. I don’t understand the fuss about it.” I rolled my eyes as though the offending tea were right in front of me. “Adrianna loves it, though.” I cringed, “ugh.”

“She’s British.”

“And so am I.”

“Really? The only thing that makes you British is your accent, and lots of people fake that rubbish all the time.” 

“Are you lot, then, Dominic?” A cheeky smirk crossed his face as he shook his head, not uttering a word. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue, darling?”

“No, not yet, but I’d much prefer a vixen instead.” Dominic winked, and a hearty laugh escaped me.

“Your flirting skills are absolutely dreàdful,” I fibbed.

“Oh?” His voice took on a competitive tone, as though he was challenging me to repeat myself. “Should I flirt with you?” he asked, a wicked smirk playing on his lips.

“No.”

Yes.

That smirk remained as he lifted his head from my lap, and without giving me a moment to react, he flipped me onto my back and hovered above me. My heart raced, pounding against my ribcage as I stared up at him, startled and slightly exhilarated.

“Why do you say no when your eyes are saying otherwise?” Dominic’s hands settled on my waist, slipping beneath the hoodie I was wearing, making me squirm in his hold. “I reckon it must be quite nerve-wracking for you. Fancy letting off some steam?” He winked suggestively, his tone flirtatious.

My interest piqued, I raised my brows, eager to see where this was heading. I remained beneath him, playing the part of a good girl—though I certainly wasn’t one, I could be when I wanted to—anticipating his next move with impatience.

I soon regretted my eagerness when his fingers began to tickle my sides, causing my body to shoot up in a vain attempt to escape, but his larger frame effortlessly pinned me to the sofa.

Laughter erupted from me as he continued his relentless assault on my belly, tickling me until I could hardly breathe. Tears stung my eyes from the sheer joy of it, my legs flailing in the air.

“Stop. Stop. Stop. Stop,” I pleaded, gasping for air. “Please, please, stop.”

For heaven’s sake, I can’t breathe!

Through my blurred vision, I caught sight of the bright smile stretching across Dominic’s face, as if he were relishing the sight of me gasping for oxygen.

“Why?”

Why indeed?!

“I c-can’t… I can’t b-b-b-breathe.”

“Why?” 

Oh, I’ll have my revenge when I manage to escape this.

“Because you’re stealing my breath away,” I blurted out. 

He grinned wickedly. “Should I steal it another way?” 

His grin widened, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned closer, his breath warm against my skin. The teasing banter faded into the background, replaced by an electric tension that crackled between us. My heart raced, pounding in sync with the mounting anticipation.

Dominic’s gaze locked onto mine, and in that moment, everything around us disappeared. The laughter, the tickling, the chilly air of Moscow—it all faded away to leave just the two of us, suspended in time. Slowly, he lowered his lips to mine, and I felt the world shift beneath us.

The kiss began softly, a gentle exploration, as if he was testing the waters. His lips brushed against mine with a tenderness that sent shivers down my spine. I savoured the taste of him, a mix of warmth and something uniquely Dominic. My heart swelled with an overwhelming sense of love and longing, and I instinctively leaned into him, craving more.

As the kiss deepened, the initial softness transformed into something much more intense. He pulled me closer, his hands cradling my face, thumbs caressing my cheeks, as if he were trying to absorb every detail of this moment. I could feel the heat radiating off him, igniting a fire within me that I hadn’t realised I was missing.

I responded in kind, my hands finding their way to his hair, fingers tangling in the tousled strands as I pulled him even closer. It was as if we were the only two people in the universe, lost in our own world where nothing else mattered.

Every brush of his lips against mine was a silent promise, a declaration of our need for each other. I could feel the urgency in his movements, the way he kissed me as if he feared this moment might slip away. And God, I felt the same. I wanted to hold onto this, to etch it into my memory forever.

The kiss was slow and sensual, a dance of passion that spoke volumes without a single word. I savoured each heartbeat, every lingering touch, as if we were trying to capture time itself. My body melted against him, yearning for more, wanting to lose myself in the depths of his affection.

When we finally pulled apart, our foreheads resting against one another, I could see the heat in his eyes mirrored in my own. The world around us rushed back in, but it didn’t matter. We were still cocooned in our own little bubble, and in that moment, I knew that whatever happened next, this kiss would linger in my heart, a sweet reminder of our love and the undeniable connection we shared. 

                                         ✧✧✧✧

The next morning, I woke up expecting to feel Dominic’s warmth beside me, but the bed was empty, the sheets on his side cool to the touch. A faint ray of light streamed through the curtains, and as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes, I noticed a post-it note stuck to the nightstand.

With bleary eyes and a groggy mind, I reached for it, the slight crinkle of the paper breaking the morning stillness. The handwriting was unmistakably his—bold yet elegant.

It read: 𝑯𝒆𝒚, 𝒎𝒚 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆. 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑰 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒅 𝒂 𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑. 𝑰’𝒅 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒚 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒚, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒄𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔. 𝑰 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒔𝒐 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉.

I sighed, the disappointment settling like a weight on my chest. I’d come all this way to spend time with Dominic, only for him to be swept away by his endless responsibilities. I knew I should be understanding—I really did—but it was hard not to feel frustrated.

All I wanted was a day with my boyfriend. Just one day. Was that too much to ask?

Groaning, I flopped back onto the bed, the mattress sinking slightly beneath me. A deep yawn escaped my lips, and I rubbed my face with both hands, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. Finally, I dragged myself upright and shuffled to the bathroom.

The tiles were cold beneath my feet, sending a small shiver up my spine. I spotted a new toothbrush resting neatly by the sink. Dominic always thought of everything. As I brushed my teeth, the minty freshness perked me up just a little.

The shower was a refuge—warm water cascading over my skin, the steam wrapping around me like a comforting hug. I stayed under the spray longer than I should have, letting the steady rhythm of water drown out my thoughts. With nowhere to be and nothing to do, time felt meaningless.

Once out, I towelled off and slipped into one of Dominic’s oversized hoodies. The fabric was soft, and his scent lingered faintly on it—an intoxicating mix of cedarwood and something distinctly him. Cosy and cocooned, I wandered to the kitchen, the wooden floor creaking faintly underfoot.

When I opened the fridge for a glass of water, my eyes immediately caught another post-it note stuck to the door. My initial frown melted into a soft smile, my cheeks warming as I read it. 

It said: 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒐𝒏, 𝒑𝒖𝒕 𝒂 𝒔𝒎𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒇𝒂𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔. 𝑾𝒉𝒚 𝒅𝒐𝒏’𝒕 𝒘𝒆 𝒅𝒐 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒖𝒏 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕? 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒑𝒊𝒄𝒌, 𝒂𝒍𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕? 𝑹𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒘𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒏𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒚𝒐𝒖

I chuckled under my breath, my fingers grazing the edge of the note as if it were something precious. Months ago, before we were even a couple, I’d offhandedly mentioned in Dominic’s office that I’d always dreamed of receiving handwritten notes from my significant other. Clearly, he’d taken it to heart.

Dominic had confessed his feelings for me in a letter—one I still kept tucked safely away—and now here he was, adding another to the collection. Every little thing he did for me only deepened the feelings I had for him.

Was it strange to love someone this much? Sometimes it felt almost overwhelming, as though my love for him was too intense, too consuming. It scaréd me, the thought that such passion might lead to heartbreak. But no, I was overthinking. Dominic wouldn’t húrt me. He couldn’t.

He loved me, I reminded myself. And his love wasn’t ordinary. It was fierce, possessive, almost obséssive. Some might find it alarming, but I found it endearing.

Yes, I probably needed help.

Dominic lived in two worlds—the ruthléss màfia underworld and the polished business elite. In both, he was a dévil. I’d heard stories about his ruthléssness, his merciléss approach to those who crossed him. Even in the corporate world, where he wore the mask of a gentleman, his wrath was something to be fearéd.

I should have run the first time I realised something was off about him. I should have bolted when he shót a man right in front of me, or when he beàt someone senseléss for touching me, or when he nearly killéd a man who held a kñife to my throat. Any sensible person would have been terrifiéd, but not me.

But I didn’t.

Instead, I stayed. Perhaps I was drawn to the chàos, to the dañger. I wanted to see and know the thrill in knowing that this man, so untouchable and unyielding, was utterly undone by me. And I did. Except, somewhere along the way, my goal shifted, and now we’re here—madly in love.

And now, here I was—madly, irreversibly in love with a man who was capable of unspeakable viólence. And yet, the thought of living without him feels impossible.

 There’s a knock at the door, interrupting my thoughts. I get up to answer it. It’s room service—Dominic and I are staying at a hotel rather than his uncle’s house.

I’d meant to ask him yesterday why we weren’t at his place, but I’d been too preoccupied with hugging and cuddling him to remember.

I thank the waiter, take the tray, and close the door. Just as I sit down to eat, there’s another knock at the door.

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries wafted into the room as I accepted the tray from the waiter. I thanked him and closed the door, eager to dig in. Barely had I sat down when another knock came at the door.

I rolled my eyes, irritation bubbling to the surface. Who could it be now? Rising from the sofa, I strode to the door and swung it open.

Standing there, looking as imposing as ever, was the last person I expected to see. Ivan Morozov.

The last time I’d seen Dominic’s uncle, he’d been lying in bed with a broken ankle, watching me with a calculating gaze. Now, fully healed and towering over me, that gaze hadn’t softened one bit.

He looked me up and down as if assessing whether I had any right to be here. Not one to back down, I met his stare head-on, then broke into a wide, deliberately cheerful grin.

“Good morning,” I said brightly, as though I were thrilled to see him.

“Morning,” he replied curtly, his thick Russian accent making the word sound almost begrudging. “Where is Dominic?”

“At work,” I said, tilting my head. “Shouldn’t you have called or texted before dropping by?”

“I wanted to surprise him.”

“Dominic doesn’t like surprises.”

“He’s my son; I know what he likes.”

“I thought he was your nephew.”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“Well, I do.”

“You enjoy having the last word, don’t you? I can see why he’s so taken with you.”

Not sure how to respond, I settled on a cautious, “Thanks?”

A faint smile ghosted across his lips before he surprised me with an unexpected question. “Do you play golf?”

“Yes. Why?”

“Let’s play golf together.”

Now? 

I raised an eyebrow. “That’s no way to ask a lady out.”

Ivan smirked, stepping forward. His attempt to intimidate me fell flat, and he chuckled instead, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Fancy a round of golf?” He hesitated, reading my expression, then added reluctantly, “Please?”

TBC

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