Page 103 of Obsessive Vows

And yet, I feel him before I hear him.

The door doesn’t creak. His footsteps are silent. But the moment shifts. Like the air has been claimed.

Like I have.

“Still awake,kiska?”

His voice is silk and shadow.

I turn slowly from the window, where I’ve been watching the snow fall onto the dark pines. Viktor leans against the doorframe, sleeves rolled to his forearms, shirt unbuttoned just enough to hint at the tattoos beneath. His hair is slightly tousled. Silver at the temples. Sharper than it was a year ago. More dangerous.

God, I’m still so stupidly in love with this man.

“Barely.” I give him a look. “Your daughter is a menace.”

“She takes after her mother.”

“She takes after your stubbornness.”

He’s across the room in three steps. One hand on my hip, the other sliding around the back of my neck, drawing me in. His mouth brushes my jaw.

“You’re tired,” he murmurs, but his hand is already dragging the silk of my nightgown up my thigh.

“I’m exhausted.”

“You’ll survive.”

His mouth finds mine.

It’s not sweet. It never is. Not with him.

It’s a claiming. All over again.

We never did the soft honeymoon thing. Not even after I saidI dowith shaking hands and a four-month-old in my arms. He was possessive the night we married, and more so the night he held Sofia for the first time.

He’s never let me forget it.

And I never want him to.

His mouth moves lower.

My hands slide up his chest, fisting in his shirt.

“I could make you beg,” he says against my skin. “But you’re mine already.”

“Then show me,” I whisper.

He does.

Slow at first. Like he wants to memorize every breath I take, every place his hands leaves burning. But it doesn’t stay that way.

He flips me onto my back and drags me to the edge of the bed, eyes locked on mine as he spreads my thighs wide and slides his mouth between them. He licks me like he owns me—slow and deliberate at first, then with the kind of ruthless intensity that leaves me gasping, writhing, begging.

My fingers twist in his hair, hips grinding against his mouth until I break apart with a cry that’s more animal than human.

But he’s not done. Not even close.

He climbs over me, kisses me like he’s sealing a promise in blood, then drives into me in one hard, claiming thrust.

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