“What does that mean?” she asks.
I shake my head, then give her a playful grin. “I’ll tell you another day.”
Her bottom lip pushes out as she pouts, and God, if it’s not the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen. “Don’t do that,” I demand.
“What?” She pouts again.
Pulling her to my chest, I grind my teeth from the effort it’s taking to not squash her against me.
Fuck, I love her so much, and I’m so goddamn thankful she’s back in my arms.
It’s hard not to fidget while Viktor undresses me for the third time in the space of ten hours.
This time when he pulls my panties down, his palms brush all the way down my legs before coming back up to settle on my hips.
His fingers dig into my skin, and a growl rumbles from his chest. “This is the sweetest fucking torture.”
My gaze goes to the bathtub. “I can really do it myself.”
“Fuck no. I’m not missing out on the opportunity to bathe you.”
Viktor takes hold of my left hand. “Get in,moyaMalen'kaya Roza.”
Holding onto him, I climb into the balmy water and sit down. Viktor rolls his shirt’s sleeves up to his elbows, exposing the veins snaking beneath his skin.
Why is that so damn attractive?
Viktor crouches next to the tub, and grabbing a loofah, he squirts body wash onto it. He starts to wash my back and shoulders while I focus on keeping the cast braced on the side of the tub so it won’t get wet.
It feels nice having his attention on me until the loofah slides down my abdomen to between my legs. My body immediately tenses, and I divert my gaze to the cast.
From the corner of my eye, I see Viktor tilting his head, his movements growing slower. “Why did you tense up?”
My mind races to think of an acceptable lie. My tongue darts out to wet my lips. “Ah… I’m just tired.”
I can feel his eyes burning on me. His hand with the loofah stills between my legs, then he orders, “Look at me.”
Destructive emotions spiral into my chest as I shake my head.
“Hey, talk to me,” his tone is too gentle for me to handle right now.
Not caring about my right arm, I climb to my feet and scramble out of the bath. Sharp pains shoot through my arm, and I bite my bottom lip to suppress the groan.
Grabbing a towel, I wrap it around me and leave a trail of wet footprints all the way to the walk-in closet.
“Rosalie,” Viktor snaps, his voice filled with brutality and tension. “What the fuck happened while you were with the Cosa Nostra?”
I do a poor job of drying my body, and when I try to step into my underwear, I fall to my side. Before my right arm can slam into a set of drawers, Viktor grabs hold of me, yanking me back onto my feet. He forces me to turn to him, then pins me with a stare that’s filled with rage.
“What the fuck happened?”
My voice is shaky as I say, “I already told you.”