Page 14 of Viparious

But he hears me, and I don’t know what answer I’d prefer. One where there’s some faceless person who experienced what I never will or confirmation that he’s not capable of the emotion. The usual hard edge comes back as he answers too easily.

“No.”

I focus on his chest and trace his tattoos as I attempt to settle my heart and break it at the same time.

“So, you’ve never loved anyone?”

The pause is too long. My mind prolongs it, slowing time down when he only has two acceptable answers. No or me.

Why do we ask questions to hurt ourselves? It’s like there’s some innate desire for pain. You get told not to touch the fire, and it becomes all you can focus on until the flames lick your skin. That’s what I’m doing now, I can see the flames dancing after they’ve warned me they’ll burn, but I want to sit inside of them.I need to sit there because I’ve foolishly allowed myself to believe that there’s a chance they won’t hurt me. Fire isn’t sentient, Vlad is, and his damage won’t leave a scar. It will shatter me into a million pieces.

Kissing my temple, he hugs me closer, and hope wraps itself around me along with his arms.

“That’s not what you asked.” I look up like a foolish idiot. Only to watch as he kills that hope. “You asked if I’vebeen inlove. That means there was a time I didn’t love the person.”

It’s not enough for my hope to die, he crumbles the ashes with gentle hands stroking my back, and his voice is the softest it’s ever been.

“Anyone who has the love I’m capable of has had it since I met them. There’s never been a time they weren’t my responsibility and under my protection.”

His rigid mind assigns jobs to feelings. Everything serves a purpose rather than enjoyment and he shrugs when I point out, “That’s a responsibility, not love.”

I only focus on the examples I’ve seen as I argue, “No, it’s not, you love your family, and you soften for them. You allow them everything they need to be who they are.”

Cupping my nape, he tilts my head up and gives me insight to his beautiful brain and heart.

“Because it is my responsibility, and I will protect who they are. Not an image of who I want them to be.”

I sit up and kiss his cheek for proving that I’m right. He’s not mercilessly cruel, we have hope however delusional or misplaced it is. He may never love me, but at least our child will have a good father. Maybe not a good role model, but he won’t force them into constraints and deny them like I’ve witnessed my entire life.

The belt is useless to cover myself, so I cross my arms so I’m not flashing anyone. He holds the loops at the side and pulls me closer with his smirk back on his handsome face.

“Where do you think you’re going, meelaya?”

He’s hard again, and I stare. I can’t look away for some reason, I’ve seen his dick multiple times, but he’s never been this relaxed before. He’s never allowed me to do whatever I want without saying something dumb.

I don’t let my hands go to his biceps as I stroke along his shoulders, or my resolve will disappear. The smirk is deeper when I look back up and I cut off the arrogant shithead.

“I’d love to fuck you again, but I have things to do.”

His laugh is full of disbelief as he parts my robe and holds my hips, rocking me against the air yet somehow stoking my lust.

“Youfuckedme? I’m sure everyone heard my name being screamed not the other way around.”

I should smack him in the face, just once to see if it will reset his brain to work correctly and not say stupid shit.

I already know I’m going to pay for my mouth as I lean down, but I can’t stop myself.

“I’ll scream someone else’s next time, lapachka.”

He abruptly pulls me forward and locks his legs around mine as his hand whips out, holding my throat. The momentum has me half laying on him and my hands slip from his shoulder. Grabbing my wrists in one hand, Vlad holds them at my back, and his tone is deadly.

“Try it, meelaya. It will become extinct, and you’ll forget your own name because you’re so full of me.”

His threat shouldn’t make me rub my thighs together.Twisting my wrists to disguise the reason for my fidgeting, a dark laugh touches my cheek, and he kisses up my neck to my ear.

“Don’t play games, moya koroleva, you won’t like the outcome.”

There’s a fucked up part of me that loves when he’s covered in blood, seeing the violence in him painted on his skin for everyone to see, and knowing that it will never touch me. It’s intoxicating because it shows I have power while we both refuse to admit it.

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