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“I love the idea of her. Of who she was and what she was with Alessio. Yes, I felt something for Ayla. I care deeply for her, still do. I was in love with the idea of love. I wanted what they had. I craved it more than I can ever describe in words. I would go as far to say I was jealous of them, and the more time I spent with Ayla, around them when they were together…I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. I mistook that feeling for love. But since meeting you, myshka, I know the difference now. I know what it means to love…and to be in love.”

Ayla was my infatuation. Valerie…well, she was more. So much more.

Valerie nodded but otherwise stayed silent. The contesting emotions of her soul flashed from her hazel eyes. It was quick and gone before I could comprehend the look she gave me. I didn’t know what it was, but I couldn’t have her doubt my feeling for her. If she was insecure about Ayla, it was my duty as her man to erase those thoughts.

I cupped her cheeks, lifted her face up, and our gazes locked. I held her there and leaned forward, my mouth brushing hers so lightly it barely touched. She sucked in a shuddering breath. I kissed the corner of mouth again and her pouty pink lips parted. “She was my addiction. You are my obsession,” I confessed, my voice a little gruff.

Valerie hesitated for a moment before speaking her mind. “It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”

Just like her, I thought so too. Until everything had finally become clear to me. The difference was intricate, difficult to really understand. But once you’d gone through both emotions, traveled down both paths…it was easy to separate the two.

“No, it’s not. Addiction is something you can get over with time and therapy. It’s not easy but it can be done. You’re addicted to something for a time, until you find something else to be addicted to. Therapy is key. One way or another, you can and will break that habit if you truly want. But once you are obsessed, you can’t ever get over it. It’s embedded deep inside you—your soul. It becomes a part of you. No amount of trying can pierce it out and replace it with something else. It’s like carving out a part of yourself, your heart. It will leave you bleeding. It’s a wound you can’t easily stitch back together. And when you bleed non-stop, you will eventually stop breathing. An obsession becomes the key to your survival. So, Valerie…I am utterly and irrevocably obsessed with you. To some people, it’s not even fucking healthy. It’s toxic. They would tell you to run far, very far away from me. I am what people call a predator, sweet myshka.”

There was a soft, almost hopeful look on her face. At the expression, the beating organ in my chest swelled like a fucking love-sick puppy. Me—Viktor Ivanshov—officially pussy whipped and love-sick. Who would have thought? This wasn’t exactly how I predicted my future, but the turn of events wasn’t so bad. I liked this. Us. Valerie and me.

I brushed the hair back from her face, tucking the golden locks behind her ears. Valerie leaned into my touch, almost unconsciously. As if she were drawn to my touch, just like I was to hers.

Her palm landed on my chest and she gave me a smile, stealing my breath right from my goddamn lungs. Fuck, I was a weak man when it came to her. One fucking smile and I was ready to fall to my knees in front of her.

“Even if I had a chance to run away, I wouldn’t. I can’t. My heart is right here, forged with yours. It belongs with you. You’re my home, Viktor.”

Yeah, this must be love. This had to be love.

“Myshka—”

Her gaze was filled with adoration and honesty. I could see it all, a reflection of my own. Her hand stroked my bare chest, her fingers absently dancing across the edge of dark ink etched into my skin.

Her voice was a hoarse whisper when she spoke again. “Viktor, you’ve touched me in places that your hands and your lips can’t reach. You’ve touched me from the inside, held my heart and made love to my soul. And that’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever experienced. We have stumbled along the way. We experienced grief. We experienced passion. We’ve seen it all together, and I am not leaving. I want you. I love you. I truly do.”

My mouth crashed down on hers, drinking in the essence of her. I swallowed her words, drunk on her. She gasped into my mouth and then melted into my arms, her lips moving in sync with the kiss I bestowed on her. We kissed in a frenzied rhythm. Our lips created a whole fucking melody. She consumed me. Fiercely. Utterly. In return, I stole every breath from her. Like a starving thief, craving for something I never had, but now belonged to me, I stole her heartbeats, each of them.

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