His eyes narrowed and his lips parted, showing a flash of his teeth. He was incredibly close and his hand was firm around my throat, holding me tightly, but still allowing me to breathe. His gaze kept flicking from my eyes to my mouth as if transfixed. Then something pushed against my lower belly, something hard and demanding.
Then his hand pushed between us and he yanked aside my panties, pulled my tampon out, and thrust into me in a single stroke. I cried out as a shock of pain moved through my hips, making way to pleasure as he settled deep inside me. Then, holding me by the throat, he fucked me hard against the back of the couch.
“You fucking ruined me,” he said through clenched teeth.
He had ruined me too and the thought of going back to living without him felt like a vise gripping my heart. I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t wake up in a bed without him or fall asleep without the weight of his body draped across mine.
“Please,” I whispered.
“It’s too late to beg me, baby.”
“It’s not, just don’t go.”
He released my throat and dug his fingers into my hips, holding me steady. His cock hammered hard and fast into me, taking me with frantic desperation. I wrapped my legs around his waist, giving into him, and he dragged me down to the floor and flipped me onto my stomach.
Then he was inside me again, our frantic breaths mingling and our bodies tangled up in desperation. The floor creaked and in the distance I heard the cry of the gulls over the marsh.
He pulled from my pussy and came on the floor beside me with a harsh groan. I lay there, a tangled mess beneath his heavy body, air gasping from my lungs. How was it possible this changed nothing? How could he take me so passionately, so desperately, and then just walk away?
“I can’t trust you,” he said, defeated. “And neither of us can undo what we did. And you can’t fix me. So it’s better if I go.”
I felt him get off me and I heard his footfalls on the stairs. Feeling cold, I got to my feet and put on my dressing gown. Then I cleaned up the floor and sank down into one of the stools at the counter.
My chest was a cold mass of pain and my body shook with sobs trying to force their way out. I bit my lip, breaking through the skin, and clenched my fists against the tears slipping from between my lashes.
He came downstairs, dressed in one of his gray suits and carrying his suitcase. For a moment, we stood there looking at each other and then he drew close to me, and tilted my chin up.
“For what it’s worth, I hate the world we’re in just as much as you do,” he said. “And I wish things could have been different. I wish you had trusted me and I had trusted you.”
He kissed my mouth quickly and then he was gone. I sat there, my body tingling and my gaze glued to the place where he’d stood moments before. Outside, the gate clanged and an engine revved twice before fading into silence.
Viktor was gone. It was over.
Chapter Sixteen
Viktor
I’d planned on taking the next plane overseas and drowning myself at the hotel bar by my penthouse. Instead, I went into my office in Charleston, met with Leonid and updated him, and had lunch in the hotel down the street. It was a sunny day and warm enough I could wear a linen shirt with my casual pants and not worry about having to carry a jacket.
The waitress who served me was a middle-aged brunette woman who gave me a long stare when I sat down. I half expected her to make a move on me when she took my order, but instead she put her hands on her hips and looked me over.
“Are you here for the auction?” she asked.
“Auction?”
“The auction they’re having out on the water. Boats, fishing gear, all kinds of things. You don’t look like you’re from around here, that’s why I asked,” she said.
“No, I do live here,” I said. “And I’m not looking to buy a boat.”
“What can I get you?” she said.
“Coffee, black. And I’ll have the soup and sandwich of the day,” I said.
She nodded and disappeared into the back. When she returned with a mozzarella sandwich and tomato soup, she set it down and stood looking out the window for a moment. Her eyes were fixed on the wharf in the distance.
“I lived on a boat for years down in New Orleans before I met my husband. It was the most free I’ve ever felt,” she said softly. “You look like a man in search of something.”
I studied her. “What makes you think that?”