Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Since I had met Viktor, I realized how desperately I wanted to hear his voice and listen to his laughter. It would have been music to my ears. I just knew it. It was little things like this we would take for granted.
“When I was younger, I used to dream of meeting my soul mate, the man I would adore and the man who would cherish me. I used to dream of our moments, the little things that would make us happy. I always thought I would be the perfect girl for him. I would never lack for anything. I would be everything he needed, wanted, and I would never give him my flaws.”
Viktor stayed silent, listening to my words. The only noticeable change in him was the way his grip clenched around my hips. He pulled me closer.
My fingers flexed over his jaw, and I touched his lips again. I couldn’t seem to stop feeling the softness and fullness of his lips, as if I were tasting his words.
My voice rumbled from my chest when I continued, my words slipping out. I told him my deepest secret. “But now all I can give you are imperfections and a body that has been used, a soul that has been bruised, and lips that have been kissed by a filthy man. I have so many flaws, Viktor. I am no longer a girl who can give her man something of her own, because I have…nothing. Everything has been taken and used.”
His dark eyes were intense, sharp, and they made my breath hitch, staring right into me, a mirror to my soul. His look screamed of madness; it was vicious and furious. Although in the deepest part of me, those eyes brought me calm. They soothed my bruised soul.
He saw the deepest cracks, his gaze whispering over every inch of it. He didn’t shy away from them, he stared…and it felt like he was appreciating them. Every flaw of mine, he cradled them as if they belonged to him.
Viktor held me closer, and my body trembled with the intensity he evoked. He nudged my cheek with his and then ran his nose down the length of the softness; he inhaled my scent again.
He slid his cheek closer and closer…until our mouths almost touched. My eyes closed, my lips parted, and I inhaled. His distinct scent, musky, with a slight touch of cigarettes and alcohol, but still holding a breath of earth, filled me. He smelled warm and mine.
His fingers slid up toward my waist, the side of my chest, and then my neck. He cupped the back of my head, and I opened my eyes. His lips moved, and I caught his words, focusing intently.
“Valerie, this collar around your neck doesn’t define you. It angers me that you wear it, it holds a symbol of your pain, but it doesn’t make me think less of you. Not ever. Baby, I don’t want perfection. I want your flaws and every bit of cracks you have inside of your heart. I want it all, because it’s you. No one is without imperfection. If you are, then you’re fake. My sweet myshka, I don’t have time for fake. I want what’s real. I want you. And you are everything I need.”
I couldn’t hear his voice, but I imagined how it sounded in my head. The command from him was overwhelming. It slid deeper under my skin and wormed its way into my bones.
His head came down again, his mouth slid closer, and I breathed, waiting for the kiss. But it never came. Instead he slightly pulled away so I could see his lips again.
“And you are wrong. There is something of your own that you can only give willingly. No one can force you.” He looked into my eyes and gave me a beautiful smile. Viktor Ivanshov stole my breath.
“Tell me, sweet Valerie. Have you ever given a man your heart?”
My heart collided with my lungs—over and over again, trying to break free. My vision blurred slightly and I blinked. A tear trailed down my cheek. Viktor watched it and then swiped it away. My throat grew tight at his words and I couldn’t seem to answer…I couldn’t seem to think.
Viktor Ivanshov made me breathless and speechless. He was my undoing.
His features hardened, but not in a mean way. More as if he were confident and subtly desperate for my confirmation.
“Tell me,” he pushed, his dark eyes boring into me. He devoured me silently, while barely even touching me.
My voice came out hushed when I finally spoke. “No.”
“Say it, Valerie.”
“No. I have never given a man my heart.”
His eyes grew molten. “Then you have something sacred that is only yours to give. Remember to never waste it on someone who isn’t worthy of you.”
“Are you?” I rattled. “Are you worthy of me?”