INSATIABLE CRAVINGS
Insatiable Cravings - Episode 35
Subtitle; {Loving You Is A Loosing Game}
TAGS: Age-gap, Mafia, Forbidden Love, Drama, Tragedy and Betrayal.
Settings: United Kingdom, Russia and others.
★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★
~ Dominic ~
No one warned me that surrendering my self-control could be so intoxicatiñg, so exhilarating, that it would lead to a sense of ultimate satisfaction.
It’s been two months since that unforgettable trip to Male—a journey that shifted the landscape of my life in ways I never anticipated.
Genevieve King has woven herself into the fabric of my existence, a persistent presence I can’t shake, no matter how hard I might try. And truthfully, I’m not sure I want to. I find myself drawn to whatever this connection is between us, even if I can't quite define it.
And even if I wanted to put a name to it, I wouldn’t know where to begin. All I know is that I relish her company, even beyond the passionate moments we share.
"What’s going on in that head of yours?" Rory’s voice sliced through the quiet, jolting me back to reality. "Let me guess—you're daydreaming about that strawberry blonde with a name that starts with G and ends with E."
I didn’t even need to glance her way to sense the knowing smirk on her face. It had become her favorite pastime to tease me about Genevieve.
"Don’t you have anything better to do?" I shot back, my tone half-heartedly defensive.
"Apart from poking fun at you? Nope!" she laughed, unabashed. "But seriously, why aren’t you dressed? You’re going to be late."
And that’s precisely what I dread. Another elite gala, another exclusive soirée where Dominic Morozov is expected to shine.
Truth be told, I had no intention of attending. But my sister, equally invited and bursting with excitement, declared she wouldn’t go unless I did.
“Dilémma” doesn’t even begin to capture the predicament I’m in.
"Dominic," Rory whined, her voice dripping with playful exasperation. She stood in front of me, adopting her best puppy-dog eyes paired with a pout that could melt glaciers. "Come on."
I made sure she noticed me roll my eyes in annoyance before heading into the bathroom.
"Should I pick out your clothes for you?" Her voice broke the silence of the room, easily carrying to the bathroom where I was.
"No."
"Okay," she replied, though it was clear she was lying. "Which color of tuxedo do you want?"
None. I’d rather wear my hoodie, crawl into bed, and either work or chat with Genevieve—whatever happened to work out.
"Blue. We’re going with blue."
I stayed silent, knowing she wouldn’t listen anyway. Once I finished showering, I stepped out to find a note that read 'WEAR THIS' next to the suit she had chosen.
It was blue, just as she said, and not wanting to deal with her antics this evening, I slipped it on. It looked stunning on me, but that wasn’t surprising.
"Look at you," Aurora announced as she entered my room. "If you weren't my brother, I'd hit on you." She added a wink, which made me grimace.
"Sorry, you're not my type."
She scoffed. "I’m everyone's type."
Her confidence was blinding—she definitely got that from me.
"Can we go?"
"Like I have a choice," I replied lazily.
✧✧✧✧
When we arrived at the gala venue, I wanted to tell the driver to turn back, but I bit my tongue until we got there.
While I enjoy the attention, there are times I crave solitude, away from the blinding flashes of cameras capturing every moment.
I pushed through the crowd, striding into the open doors like I owned the place. It’s a good way to exude power without causing hà rm.
The flashes didn’t stop once I walked in. I forced a polite smile, greeted those who acknowledged me, and managed a few smiles in return.
Ugh, this is tortúre. Who actually enjoys this?
Whatever twisted equation led me here, my sister was undoubtedly at the center of it. She is what people call a social butterfly.
Aurora Morozov can make friends anywhere she goes. Her princess-like appearance and gentle voice are deceiving—deep down, she’s a lioness waiting for the right moment to pounce.
I know this firsthand; I trained her and was once a victim of her wrath. Yet, when she wants to, she transforms into a diva, prancing around in the fanciest pink imaginable with a dazzling smile.
Speaking of dazzling smiles, I’d rather be at home right now, talking to Genevieve.
Will she be awake by now?
If so, what might she be doing?
Reading, of course.
A barely audible sigh escaped my lips—the same lips that hadn’t touched hers in hours.
One taste that fateful night left me craving more. It’s not my fault she's intoxicatiñg, nor is it my fault that she's unbelievably sweet.
Just the thought of her and those delicious lips sent warmth through my once-cold body. The good news? I felt warm. The bad news? I was also feeling rather… hà rd.
Great!
Just superb.
I surveyed the crowd, my boredom escalating with each passing second.
For reasons I couldn’t quite grasp, my gaze drifted to the second floor. My breath caught in my throat.
Genevieve King was here tonight, and—surprise, surprise—she was wearing a blue dress.
The unsurprising part was how the dress clung to her body like a second skin, accentuating every curve and contour. Her hair cascaded down in loose waves, just the way I liked it. She looked stunning.
Hypnotically gorgeous. Bewitchingly exquisite. It was even worse because she was laughing at something her best friend, Julianna Nelson, had just said.
This gala had suddenly become infinitely more interesting.
I pulled my phone from my pocket and typed out a message.
Me ≈ Blue? Shocking. Did you run out of black?
Genevieve glanced at her phone instantly. The smile that had graced her face while talking to her friend widened as she read my text.
Vixen ≈ What, are you back to stà lking me?
Me ≈ Who said I ever stopped?
Vixen ≈ So you’re admitting it? You stalkéd me?
Me ≈ No, I told you it was a coincidence.
Vixen ≈ Coincidence, my foot. There’s no such thing as coincidence in Dominic Morozov's dictionary.
Me ≈ You know me too well.
Vixen ≈ Do I now?
Me ≈ Yeah. So tell me, who gave you permission to look this good?
Her smile didn’t fade; instead, it transformed into a playful grin. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lower lip.
Me ≈ My, my, my! Did I just make Genevieve King blush and render her speechless?
Vixen ≈ I’ve done much worse to you.
Her words ignited a fire within me. They might seem innocent to outsiders, but we both knew they were anything but.
Yep, blue bà lls, here I come.
Me ≈ Hey now, behave. We’re in a public place.
Vixen ≈ We?
Her eyes scanned the room, clearly searching for me. Just when I thought she wouldn’t spot me, her ocean-blue gaze locked onto my brown eyes.
Delight shimmered in her bright blue irises as she beamed at me. Her gaze roamed over me, and she mouthed, "You look so good I could eat you."
"Wanna bet?" I mouthed back.
"Is that a challenge?"
As an expert in lip-reading, I immediately deciphered Julianna’s words to Genevieve.
"Who are you smiling at?" Julianna didn't wait long for a response before she directed Genevieve's gaze toward me. The moment she spotted me, fear flickered across her face. "How is he here?"
Genevieve turned to Julianna, her expression unyielding. "What do you mean? He's Dominic Morozov; he has more right to be here than both of us combined."
"Yes, but why is he here?"
I thrive on the féar I inspire in others, especially when they struggle to conceal it. There's an indescribable thrill that comes from witnessing their unease.
"I would assume he's here for the same reason we all are—he was invited."
"Right. But did you know about it?"
"Him being invited? No. Remember, my mother practically dragged me here. If I had known he was coming, I wouldn't have needed convincing."
A grin broke across my face, impossible to suppress. I couldn't deny it; had I known she would be here, I would have arrived much sooner.
"There’s nothing I can say that will change your attraction to him, is there?"
"Not a chance."
"Why's that?"
"Look at him," Genevieve replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "He’s ridiculóusly handsome. And on top of that, he’s a genuinely good person."
I nearly choked on my champagne, and Genevieve noticed.
She tilted her head, a teasing glint in her eye. "Eavesdropping, are we?"
"I could never."
It’s not like I was fixated on her the entire time she walked into the bathroom. I had better things to do than watch the stunning girl who captured my attention, like enduring the boredom that threatened to swallow me whole.
And trust me, I didn’t enter the bathroom with the intention of running into her; I just found myself there. Shocking, I know.
There she was, reapplying her lip gloss. "You do realize this is the girls' bathroom, right?"
Once again, she recognized me before I even spoke.
"Is it?" I replied, stepping closer and standing behind her. I wrapped one arm around her waist, turning her to face me. "You look beautiful."
"I know, but thank you."
The temptation was irresistible, so I tilted my head to capture her lips, but she leaned back just out of reach.
Genevieve smiled, mischief dancing in her eyes. Those same eyes that were locked onto mine. "My boyfriend wouldn’t like that."
Annoyance surged through me at her words. Her lips parted, a soft whimper escaping them, and I realized I was gripping her waist a bit too tightly.
"I'm joking," she laughed. "No boyfriend yet, just you."
I tried again to claim her lips, only for her to turn her head at the last moment. A frown spread across my face.
"Just put on my lip gloss,"
Excuses, excuses.
"I don’t care," I said, pressing my lips against hers.
It was an instant relief, like a bucket of ice-cold water poured over me after a fiery encounter. I melted into the kiss, pulling her closer to my eager body.
Genevieve seemed to forget her resistance as soon as our lips met, kissing me back with equal fervor.
But approaching footsteps made her pull away, her gaze darting toward the door.
I needed to assure her. "No one is coming."
Her eyes flickered back to mine, a slow smirk playing on her lips. "Well, not yet." Then, she winked.
I was momentarily confused until it hit me. "You little tease."
"Yeah?" I nodded, leaning in closer. "How naughty are we talking?" Her voice dipped low, dripping with s+dúction. She knew exactly how to push my buttons.
"Don't do that."
"Why not?" Genevieve feigned a pout. "I enjoy seeing you all hot and needy."
I took a deep breath, desperately trying to regain my composure. Then, I brushed my lips against hers, whispering, "You’ll be the déath of me."
It wasn’t just a dramatic statement; I sensed it might become a reality sooner rather than later.
"Literally or figuratively?" she asked, gazing up at me through her lashes.
"Honestly, both."
"That’s good."
"I don’t think so."
"Well, I do," she replied, planting a teasing peck on my lips. "You have no idea how much I want to undress you right now." My breath caught in my throat. "But I can’t. However, when the time comes, I’ll make sure it’s worth the wait."
"Every moment with you is worthwhile, Genevieve."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
TBC
No comments