INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 29
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
Life’s unpredictability has never been a foreign concept to me, but I never imagined that losing my self-control the way I did would be part of that equation.
Genevieve King took from me the very thing I always believed I would hold onto, especially when it comes to her, no matter how desperately I wanted to.
I also never thought I would wake up to an empty bed. I turned over, expecting to see her beautiful face in the morning light, only to find the space beside me vacant.
I got out of bed and started searching for her. I found her at the back, gazing out at the sea, her face hidden from view. Deciding to make some coffee before joining her, I walked to the kitchen and set some water to boil.
The air was still chilly from the night before, as if the rain that hadn’t fallen last night was finally going to come. I quickly brushed my teeth and returned to check on the water, preparing to make two cups of coffee.
Once I was done, I stepped out of the apartment and headed toward her. When I reached her side, watching her lovingly gaze at the water, I cleared my throat to announce my presence.
Genevieve looked up at me, her face calm and illuminated by a bright smile. She took the mug of coffee I offered her and muttered a soft thank you before turning her attention back to the sea.
“Sorry I wasn’t there in bed. I couldn’t sleep,” she said, slowly sipping the hot liquid.
“Yeah, why?”
I couldn’t help but wonder if my insomnia had rubbed off on her, and if I should stop sleeping next to her to help her get back into a proper sleeping routine.
But I doubted that was the reason. It was probably because of what had transpired between us last night. The passion had been intense, a heat that couldn’t be extinguished without both of us getting what we desired.
And we did, by the way.
That seemed to be the case, as she replied, “Because of last night.”
“I know; I just wanted to hear you say it.”
Genevieve playfully elbowed me in the stomach and rolled her eyes, causing me to chuckle.
Cold air nipped at my face, the only exposed skin, as I glanced over to her and asked, “Aren’t you cold?”
She usually wore a hoodie, but today she was just in the oversized tee she had put on after… well, you know.
“If I say yes, will you give me your hoodie?”
“Yeah, if you want it.”
“Then yes, I am cold.”
I quickly unzipped the hoodie I wore and handed it to her. She slipped it on and inhaled deeply, as if taking in my scent.
“So, what do you have in mind for today’s activities?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“I have nothing planned. Absolutely nothing. I just want to do nothing but read.”
Read?
For the entire day?
How could anyone do that?
Wouldn’t she get bored?
I had to ask, “All day?”
Genevieve nodded. “Yeah.”
“Really?”
“Don’t act surprised,” she said. “This is what a vacation is supposed to be, isn’t it?”
I suppose she had a point. Vacations were meant for lounging around, but reading all day seemed a bit excessive, if you asked me.
I doubted she did, though.
“Yeah, but…”
“No buts.” Genevieve cut me off, just like she did last night, without a hint of fear, almost making it seem like I wasn't who I am— the Brà tva Dón. Then she added, “While I read, I have movies I want you to watch.”
Unfortunately, movies and I were not on good terms. Even Aurora hadn’t managed to make me enjoy them, despite her persistent attempts to make me watch them. I could never say no to her puppy-dog eyes when they pleaded for attention. Nonetheless, I found movies pointless—why watch one when I could be working?
“Yeah, I’m not a movie person,” I told her.
“I know that,” she replied.
“So why do you want to make me watch not one, but several movies?”
“Because I don’t want you to be bored.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“Of course, you will be fine when you’re not bored.”
I fixed her with an intimidating gaze, but she just smiled back at me. “I’m not watching any movies.”
Genevieve laughed as if I’d just told a joke. “Yes, you are.”
••
I found myself reluctantly watching a slew of movies I knew nothing about while Genevieve immersed herself in her Kindle, her head resting on a pillow in my lap.
Having her so close made the situation much more bearable, if not enjoyable. I even offered to feed her snacks since she complained about not wanting to change her position. So, every minute or so, I'd pop a chip into her mouth, watching her chew as she became completely absorbed in her reading.
Staying in and doing nothing wasn't so bad after all. It took some getting used to, but it felt nice to lounge around all day with someone who made me smile.
Though we exchanged no words, we shared a comfortable tranquility in the silence. Still, as peaceful as it was—aside from the TV—hearing her soft voice would have been even better.
I had to force myself to focus on the screen instead of Genevieve's lovely face. Movie after movie, I bounced my attention between the first girl aside from Rory who had lain on me and the flickering images on the TV. I watched her read, captivated by the various emotions that played across her features.
My concentration finally settled on a particularly engaging scene in the movie, but when I glanced at her, my focus shifted completely.
Genevieve had drifted off to sleep on my lap. As I gazed at her, I realized I might have lulled her to sleep with my fingers gently brushing through her hair.
A chuckle escaped my lips as I completely ignored the TV to take in her beauty, my eyes greedily absorbing every detail. The Kindle slipped from her hand and landed on her face, causing her to groan sleepily and shift onto her side.
With a smile, I picked up the Kindle and turned it off before looking back at her. I gently tucked her hair behind her ears, but she stirred again, prompting me to quickly withdraw my hand to avoid waking her. Her pink tongue darted out, moistening her lips, which sent a wave of memories from last night flooding back to me.
I had always known that Genevieve King possessed a seductive charm capable of captivating anyone, and she had certainly proven that yesterday. She demonstrated that some women could drive a man wild, not just mentally but physically as well.
Yet, I wasn’t about to pat myself on the back for falling for her allure. I wasn't one to yearn for something for too long only to have it once; my dilemma lay in not wanting to start at all to avoid the inevitable ending. But it had happened, and I couldn't say I regretted it.
I might have stared at her for a bit too long, but the peace it brought to my heart lulled me into a gentle sleep, which was strange since nightmares had plagued my dreams just days before I began sharing my nights with her.
When I finally opened my eyes, it was past noon, edging toward two in the afternoon. Genevieve was still resting on my lap, but I knew she wouldn't stay asleep for long, meaning it was time to prepare lunch.
She could be quite cranky when she was hungry.
I carefully slipped away from her and made my way to the kitchen. I was still busy preparing when Genevieve wandered in, a question on her lips.
"What are you making?"
"Some salad," I replied, plating some for myself. "Do you want some?"
"Yeah, no, I'll pass." She grimaced. "I'll just make myself some noodles."
I anticipated this, so I prepared her noodles before mine. As I opened the microwave, I retrieved a bowl of spicy noodles. "I might have already beaten you to it; take it."
Genevieve King had a passion for spicy food, just as she had a passion for herself—of which there was plenty.
"You made this for me?"
"Yep." I reached into the fridge for the drink I had prepared for her. "And here’s a strawberry milkshake to go with it."
Her face lit up with a bright smile, and I instinctively mirrored it. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"So, you still won't tell me how you make your perfect strawberry milkshake?" Her hopeful expression was hard to resist.
This wasn’t the first time she had enjoyed my milkshakes; in fact, she had tried many before declaring strawberry her favorite. She hadn’t stopped asking for the secret since, and my answer had remained the same for months.
"Yes."
"Yes, you will tell me?"
"No, Vixen."
"Is it a secret family recipe?"
"No."
My mother used to make milkshakes for me when I was little, and after she passed, I tried to recreate it for my baby sister. It didn’t taste the same, but it was good nonetheless, so I kept making it for Rory. The first time I made it for Genevieve, her smile lit up the room, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
In that moment, I resolved never to share the recipe with her. If she could make it herself, I would miss the joy of watching her face light up with every sip.
"I don't know why I keep asking," she muttered.
"Yeah, you should really stop," I replied.
She shot me a look, rolled her eyes, and returned to her food. Even so, she made sure I caught her quiet murmur: "Jérk."
A few minutes later, we finished lunch and tackled the dishes together. Well, I washed while she rinsed and dried. Once we were done, Genevieve insisted I tell her everything I had watched that day.
That’s how we spent the rest of the afternoon. I talked more than I ever had in my life, yet not once did boredom flicker across her face. It felt nice to have her undivided attention.
★★
For dinner, we were having burgers. I knew it wasn’t the healthiest option, but if I didn’t make them myself, Genevieve would just order takeout again.
After a quick grocery run for buns, I was ready to prepare dinner. In the kitchen, I was frying the beef patties while stealing glances at Genevieve, who was handling a knÃfe in a way that made me uneasy.
She was merely slicing tomatoes.
But still, it felt reckless.
"Be careful," I reminded her for what felt like the thousandth time in just five minutes. "That knÃfe is really sharp."
She shot me a glare, clearly annoyed that I sounded like a broken record. Still, I didn’t mind repeating myself if it meant she wouldn’t cut her fingers.
"I’m just looking out for you."
"Yeah, for the millionth time. I’m not a baby, Dominic," she whined dramatically. "I know the knÃfe is sharp. I won’t cut myself."
It was as if she jinxed it. No sooner had the words left her mouth than she hissed in paÃn, dropping the knÃfe onto the cutting board.
I let out a hiss of my own, rushing to her side and taking her hand in mine to inspect the cut, but there was nothing. Flicking my gaze back to her, I let out a sigh, which she met with a smile. "Genevieve..."
I didn’t get to finish my thought as she cut me off by kissing me. That smile of hers remained as she kissed me again and again until I have had enough.
Which was a blatant lie; I could never get enough of her.
She smiled, biting her lower lip. "I’ve been waiting all day to do that."
"Can I talk now?" I asked.
"Sure," she chirped.
"You shouldn’t—" Kiss. I sighed again. "Genevieve."
"What? I’m listening."
No, she wasn’t. Her body was here, but her attention was elsewhere.
I tried again. "You—" Kiss, followed by her giggle.
Okay, that was it. I let my hands settle on her waist and lifted her onto the kitchen island. Genevieve looked triumphant, as if she had finally achieved her goal as I captured her lips, tasting her again after what felt like an eternity.
Yes, I was desperate for her lips right after waking up, but she hadn’t given me the chance to act on it. She didn’t even allow me to take the lead, like I had the first time we kissed.
No, as soon as my lips met hers, she pulled me in, leaving me no choice but to surrender to the waves of intense desire. Her fingers tangled in my hair, tugging lightly as we devoured each other’s lips, hungry for more.
Even as I stood between her legs, I didn’t feel close enough to fully savor the moment. I stepped closer, pulling her flush against me until it felt like a piece of paper couldn’t slip between us.
Genevieve King didn’t just taste sweet; she tasted like everything I shouldn’t want. She embodied freedom, like falling off a cliff without a care in the world. Her fiery mouth was quickly becoming my newest obsession, and I sensed she was aware of that.
With each tilt of our heads, our tongues danced for dominance, and since she was far more experienced than I was, she always emerged victorious, grinning each time.
Genevieve tilted her head to the side, granting me more access to sink my teeth into her delicate neck. A soft whimper escaped her throat as she gripped my shirt tightly. I returned my lips to hers, my hold on her waist tightening, the intensity of our kiss escalating.
Every ounce of my already frayed self-control was put to the test as I reluctantly pulled away. She whined, her lips forming a sad pout that I fought hard not to kiss again.
"Not fair, Dominic," she said, sliding down to her feet.
I glanced up from the meat I had resumed frying and smiled at her. "Life is not fair, Vixen."
••
"We should play a game." The suggestion floated from her lips, light as a feather, though I knew her intentions ran deeper.
Over the months I had come to know Genevieve King, I realized that she thought carefully about everything she did or said. That was simply who she was.
Deciding to play along as if I were oblivious to her motives, I asked, "What game?"
Her fiery ocean-blue eyes sparkled with mischief, and she smiled innocently. "The kissing game. You in?"
Such a tempting offer—why wouldn't I be?
"I don't think that game exists," I replied.
"It doesn't. I just made it up."
A chuckle escaped me, but it was soon cut short when Genevieve straddled my legs for the second time since last night. My hands instinctively found their way to her waist, a habit I couldn’t shake whenever she was near.
She lowered her gaze from my eyes to my lips and asked, "Who do you think will win?"
"I don't think there can be a winner in this game."
"You're right, Dominic. It's a win-win situation." A grin tugged at the corners of her lips. "I get to kiss you, and you get to stop being all serious on me."
"I don't think I can do that. You go all Genevieve on me too."
"I don't."
"You're doing it right now."
"What am I doing?"
"Driving me to the edge."
"Dangeroús. I like that."
"I know you do."
Genevieve let out a light sigh, her slender fingers slipping through my hair, unraveling my resolve. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, and I watched with rapt attention. "Kiss me, Dominic."
And I did. But here's the thing: I had never kissed a girl—or anyone, for that matter—before this moment. I had my first sexuà l encounter at fifteen with a classmate all the boys wanted but couldn’t have.
It didn’t end there; as I moved through life, I found myself with more girls at my disposal, yet I never once kissed them. Even those encounters felt more like obligations than pleasures.
But here I was, locked in a kiss with an eighteen-year-old girl who had an undeniable effect on me and knew it. It felt wrong, even siñful, but who cared about that when the most beautiful girl was in my arms, reciprocating my desire?
Literally, no one.
The kiss grew more intense, passionate, and needy. Our lips and tongues danced together, neither claiming victory. We barely had enough oxygen, forcing us to pull away simultaneously to breathe.
Our gazes locked, speaking volumes about our desires. The longing was poised to become a need, threatening to spiral into an addiction I couldn't control.
The hunger we felt for each other was indescribable and undeniable. I couldn't explain it to myself, but the magnetic pull between us was undeniable.
Genevieve leaned in, claiming my lips as if they were hers alone. I felt owned in that kiss, as though only she had access to me. I held her head closer, deepening the already profound connection.
My hands, seemingly driven by their own will, began to move under her hoodie, causing her to gasp at the sudden contact. It was then I noticed she had also unzipped the hoodie I was wearing.
She pulled away again, her palms resting on my chest, halting my advance. A single word from her lips froze time. "Wait."
TBC
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