INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings – Episode 82
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
“Hi, baby.” The sound of her voice pulled me from the depths of my work, and I raised my head from the glow of my laptop screen.
My gaze swept over her, taking in the entirety of her presence—from the tousled strands of her hair, swept up in an effortless style, to the polished tips of her black boots. She wore a form-fitting black lace long-sleeve top that clung to her upper body like a second skin, paired with lacy leggings beneath a daringly short mini skirt. The ensemble was undeniably alluring, a striking contrast to the mundane surroundings of my office.
As she stepped closer, the faint scent of her floral perfume filled the air, wrapping around me like a warm embrace. My heart raced; she was breathtaking. Genevieve leaned in, planting a soft peck on my cheek, and an electric warmth surged through me, igniting a blush that crept up my neck
Just a simple kiss, yet it turned me into a schoolboy, fumbling for words… or rather, thoughts.
And she knew it. I could see the playful smirk dancing on her lips as she batted her eyes at me, teasingly.
“How are you doing?” Genevieve asked, her smile radiating warmth that was impossible to resist. “I hope you’re hungry because I made you something.”
“What? You cooked?”
My skepticism hung in the air, palpable, judging by the raised eyebrow she shot my way—one that I couldn’t help but meet with a smirk of my own. “Yeah. Is it so surprising, huh, Dominic?”
Not scared, at all.
“Of course not, Vixen. Just a little astonished, that’s all.” I slid back in my swivel chair, watching her take a totally non-threatening step closer. “Have I told you how absolutely gorgeous you are today? You are simply stunning.”
“Hmm, of course I am.” Sarcasm dripped from her voice, and I couldn’t help but mirror her smile, a nervous excitement bubbling within me. “Anyway, yes, I cooked for you. It’s an apology for yesterday.”
I rose, closing the distance between us, and wrapped my arms around her waist, pulling her closer—because resisting her was an impossible task. “An apology, huh? And what did you do for me to earn such a generous gesture?”
If I claimed ignorance about her need to apologize, I’d be the biggest liàr in history.
“You like this, don’t you?”
I nodded, a grin spreading across my face. “Very much.”
“Hahaha, you are funny.”
“I know,” I replied, feigning innocence.
“I didn’t mean that.”
“Oh, I know.”
“Jérk.”
“You love this jérk.”
“Yeah, thank your lucky, fortunate stars for that.”
Her laughter echoed in the room, a sweet sound that wrapped around me like a favorite melody, and in that moment, I knew I wouldn’t trade this feeling for anything in the world.
I tightened my grip on Genevieve’s waist, pulling her flush against my body. My free hand rested gently against the side of her neck, feeling the warmth radiate from her skin. She beamed at me, her smile as radiant as the sun breaking over the horizon.
I revel in this. Who knew that being in a romantic relationship could evoke such a serene yet chaotic blend of emotions, an intoxicatiñg mix of everything I could ever wish for.
I never want to lose this. But will I truly get what I want.
“You are doing it again,” she said, her tone teasing yet serious.
Confused, I arched an eyebrow. “Doing what?”
“That thing when you think too loud.”
“Hmm, really? And what exactly am I thinking about, my dearest Genevieve?” I leaned in slightly, intrigued.
“I don’t know, my dearest Dominic.”
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, spreading warmth across my face. “But you just said I’m thinking too loud.” She stared at me, clearly puzzled. “If I was thinking loud, Baby, then you’re supposed to hear me, are you not?”
“I said what I said, Dom. You were also giving me that faraway look—the one you’ve given me like three or five times. It’s getting créepy, Honey.”
Honey? Did she just call me that? Or is this some British term of endearment?
“I thought you liked créepy. That’s why you’re with me
Her laughter danced in the air, a melodic sound that made my heart leap. She shook her head, her soft palms cradling my face. “I’m with you because I love you. And yes, I do love creepy, but not that look.”
Do I know this look she speaks of? Not at all.
But do I know what thoughts lead to that look? Unfortunately, yes.
The thought of losing her is unbearable; it gnaws at me every single second. In my mind, a ticking time bomb looms over this relationship that I cherish so deeply.
“By the way, are you ready?” Genevieve asked, a rush of pànic, feàr, and anxiety flickering in her eyes.
I stepped back, playing the clueless card with exaggerated innocence. “Ready for what?” Her glare pierced through me, unspoken words heavy in the air, and for a moment, I felt the weight of her gaze. “Kidding. How could I forget about the meeting with your amazing, totally not annoying sister and her husband?”
“Adrianna isn’t annoying.” She paused briefly, a flicker of mischief sparking in her eyes. “Okay, maybe she is a tiny little bit.” She even demonstrated with a playful space between her thumb and index finger, as if emphasizing her point.
I chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the room, because the way she delivered that line was nothing short of hilarious. “A tiny little bit, you sure?” I teased, enjoying the playful banter. My girlfriend nodded, a smirk dancing on her lips. “If you say so.”
“By the way, aren’t you curious about what I made for you?” Her voice was laced with excitement, a hint of secrecy hanging in the air.
“If I say yes, will you tell me?” I leaned in slightly, intrigued.
“No. You will have to wait until I serve it.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief.
“Alright, I can do that.”
With a playful toss of her hair, Genevieve sashayed out of my office, issuing a light-hearted command for me to stay put until summoned. I listened, not out of fear—because I am certainly not afraid—but because I understood the importance of following her lead.
A few moments later, the stillness was broken by a text from the most beautiful girl in the world, my girlfriend, Genevieve—shhhh, don’t tell Rory I said that. The message instructed me to come downstairs. I made my way to the dining table, my heart quickening at the sight that greeted me.
The table was adorned with dishes, artfully arranged, each one a visual feast. But as I took in the vibrant colors and enticing aromas, a wave of dréad washed over me.
“What is with the face?” Genevieve asked, her gaze flitting between curiosity and a tinge of nervousness, her brow slightly furrowed.
How should I put this?
“Baby,” I cooed, my tone as gentle as I could muster, hoping to soften the impending blow. “I’m sure it will be very delicious, but I can’t eat it. I’m allergic to seafood.”
“What? You’re allergic to seafood and you didn’t tell me all this while? Dominic, I spent hours—literal hours—in the kitchen, and I hàte that place, making this for you only for you to hit me with a ‘I am allergic.’ Why am I just finding out about this now?”
Her voice rose, tinged with frustration, and I could feel the weight of her disappointment.
“I’m sorry?” The apology slipped out, though I felt it wasn’t the right thing to say.
She shot me a look that made me instinctively back away, not out of féar, but a keen awareness of her displeasure.
“I didn’t think it was important or necessary to tell you because I didn’t think this day would come. I’m really sorry, my love.” My honesty was as clear as the air around us. “And you didn’t even have to do this; I wasn’t màd at you about yesterday.”
“But I already did, Dominic. And it would have helped if I knew that the man I’ve been dating for almost five months is allergic to seafood.” Her gaze swept over the dish—a colorful medley of rice and shrimp—her disappointment palpable. “This was a complete waste of time.”
I gently pulled her toward me by her wrist, resting my head on her shoulder, hoping to convey my sincerity through the touch. “I’m really, really sorry for not mentioning my one and only allergy. How can I make it up to you?”
“By telling me things I need to know about you.” Her voice was firm, yet a hint of vulnerability lingered beneath the surface.
Yep, that’s going to be hard.
“That can happen,” I lied, a knot of anxiety tightening in my stomach as I fearéd she might see through it. But she didn’t call me out, or maybe she chose to let it slide.
She turned to face me, and I could see the hurt etched across her features, a battle between her emotions and her composure. “Promise me that’s the only thing I don’t know about you.”
Oh, no.
“Dominic, I need you to promise me.” Her gaze bore into mine, demanding honesty.
“I promise.”
••
“I don’t get it. What do you see in him?” Adrianna’s glare pierced through the dim light of the room, her disdain unmistakable. “He’s an àsshole.”
“A cute àsshole,” Genevieve chimed in, her tone playful, almost conspiratorial, as if she wasn’t supposed to be on my side . “I mean, look at him.”
“Unfortunately, I am. He will húrt you eventually, Vie. He doesn’t even know the meaning of love, let alone how to feel it.”
It’s astonishing how much restraint I’m exercising to keep this incessant chatterbox from being silenced forever. She hasn’t stopped her relentless prattle since we arrived, her voice grating against my nerves like nails on a chalkboard.
One bullét would put an end to this.
“With all due respect, I do love your sister. That’s precisely why I’m here.”
“And am I supposed to get on my knees and worship you for being here?” Adrianna shot back, arms crossed defiantly.
“If you want.”
“God, I hàte you.”
“It’s mutual.”
“Oh, really?” She sassed, raising an eyebrow. “Anyway, let’s assume I buy into this ridiculóus nonseñse between you two, because I love my sister too much to deprive her of something—or rather, someone—she’s supposedly in love with.”
Just one bullét.
“That thing you’re thinking of won’t happen.” Both sisters united against me, their eyes sharp as daggers. I flicked my gaze between them, feeling a twinge of unease.
Genevieve knowing what’s swirling in my mind isn’t unnerving; it’s her sister that sends a chill down my spine.
“And what am I thinking, Mrs. Carrington?” I shot back, feigning nonchalance, except it wasn’t an act.
“Oh, so now you need me to spell it out for you?” Adrianna tilted her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you want to be with him?”
Enraged, I stepped forward, aiming to intimidate her, but before I could say anything further, a commanding voice resonated through the tension-laden air. “Step away from my wife, Morozov.” Xavier Carrington approached, unflinching, his presence radiating authority as he invaded my personal space, mirroring my earlier move. “Weren’t you taught manners?”
“I wasn’t. I was too busy being raised wrong, right Mrs. King?” I shot back at Adrianna, who merely rolled her eyes in response.
Xavier smirked, a twisted satisfaction dancing on his lips. “It’s Mrs. Carrington.”
“Oh, I forgot.”
“Ah, just like I’ll forget that you mean anything to my sister-in-law and proceed to rúin your life.”
Now that sparked genuine amusement within me. I erupted into a fit of laughter that echoed off the walls. “Rúin my life, you say?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And how do you intend to do that?”
“Hmm, I don’t know. Maybe by sending your case file—containing all the evidence that you’re not just in the Bràtva, but the head of it—to the FBI and CIA, who, by the way, I work for.” His smirk widened, a devílish glint in his eyes, as if he relished the power he held over me. “How about that?”
Alright, maybe I need just two bulléts.
TBC
