Page 92 of Hateful Vows
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Francisco,” I tell him and he takes the hint of dismissal, nodding before leaving, but not before he squeezes Irina in his lanky arms. Her usual detached attitude is fully absent on her face. I wait until the kid disappears.
“Since when do you cater to my desires,vipera?” I jab, testing the waters.
It doesn’t have the desired effect. Irina Dobreva-Ventura doesn’t fight me this time, and it’s like a missing limb in our relationship. She tentatively steps forward until she’s in front of me. And drops to her knees. “Since I almost lost you” are the words she breathes as her chin wobbles and tears fall on her cheeks.
“Cuore mio.”
Her forehead drops to my thighs, her back racked up with a tremor. Then, her fierce brown eyes ensnare mine.
“I love you, Dante. I’ve loved you for a long time and was too prideful to tell you. And then, you were gone, and I was so scared. I’ve come to need you. To crave you. I can’t ever let you out of my sight again. If you die, I won’t survive it. You call me ‘your heart’, but you’re mine. Without you, it doesn’t beat.”
Taken by the force of her admission, I pull her up to sit on my lap and don’t give her time to push me away or worry about my injuries and health. I kiss her like I’m starving.
It’s the first time in weeks. And it feels like the first time altogether.
After a squeak of surprise, she yields to me, cheeks wet with fresh tears but I don’t stop. She tastes like home, her skin soft under my hands draped across her neck. Her pulse beats steadily under my fingers. I pour my love into her mouth, feeding on how she feels in my arms. Like my missing piece. She’s thinner than I remember and I don’t like it. It speaks of how hard she pushed herself to get to me and though I’m grateful, I need her healthy. I need her safe, glaring at me across our living room, sharpening her tongue with witty insults.
I feed on her panting breaths; I devour her plump lips.
“I’m here,” I tell her between harsh kisses and softer ones, a perfect mirror to what we’ve been and what we’ll become. “I’llnever let anything come between us ever again. Not even death,cuore mio. Now kiss me. Fuck me. Please, remind me that I’m alive.”
My lips descend on her neck where I inhale deeply, her perfume settling my nerves and quieting the latent craving that constantly lives inside me.
“Have you even been cleared for such strain on your body,malysh?”
Irina and I look up at the same time, but now that I have her body against mine, I refuse to let go, clinging onto her frame like if I let her stand, she’ll leave and avoid me again.
Aleksei’s mouth is set in a hard line, the scar shifting with all minute movements of his lips. I’ve missed licking them. His crossed arms over his chest give him an air of authority as he leans against the threshold of the bedroom. Just like Irina, he looks exhausted, grey under his eyes.
It makes me want to own him again, remind him that I’m okay. That he is, too.
The relaxed, grey sweatpants and black tee-shirt he wears are a contrast I’m not used to when it comes to the austere Russian man. I narrow my eyes. The tee-shirt, the pants. They belong tome.
My nostrils flare and my cock stirs to life. Thank God for small mercies, I’m still capable of being shamelessly horny.
“Come here,” I hook a finger and beckon him forward.
Aleksei’s never been able to resist the commanding tone of my voice when I boss him around. He prowls into the room. Giddiness spreads through me and fills me with a joy I haven’t felt since I saw my best friend die in front of my eyes.
My stubborn lover walks up to us. I fist his tee-shirt and pull him down, locking our mouths together. He lets me but holds back for a second before he melts against my tongue. His hand snakes into my hair, reverent. Like he needs proof that I’m alive.
Aleksei’s kiss is probably better than heroin. Despite my body’s constant need for the drug, and my thoughts pulling at my attention to focus on it. I force my brain to remain on them. On Aleksei’s tongue gliding against mine, on Irina’s warm core settling against my hardening dick. On how hard they fought to get to me, and what I’d do for them.
“Please,” I whisper against his mouth. “Please, remind me that I’m alive. I love you both. And I need to—” My voice cracks. “I need you to love me back.”
Aleksei lets a pained whimper escape his chest while Irina’s mouth descends on my neck, licking and sucking at the pulse point, my blood thrumming wildly against her tongue.
“You don’t exert yourself then,malysh.”
“Yes,Lyosha.”
“I’m serious. I can’t… I can’t lose you. Either of you.”
I nod solemnly.
Then, I’m standing, my wife deftly removing my linen shirt while kissing the expanse of my chest. She lets go just enough to remove her dress and discard her underwear. Her glorious body greets my greedy gaze. But Aleksei is greedy, too. He frames my face with his strong hands, kisses me savagely, then pulls at the strands of my trousers and glides them down like they offend him.
We’re limbs and tongues and passionate love as we tumble into the bed. They force me to sit against the headboard.
