Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Control? I've never felt like I had control over it. It just… took over.”
“Really? When was the last time you set a fire? A real fire, not a candle or something small.”
“It's been a long time.” I lower my voice, ashamed. “I've learned to suppress my primal urges. The need to burn things, to consume everything when I'm stressed and anxious. I’m better now.”
“Maybe you don’t need to get better. If you were a real pyromaniac, you wouldn't have been able to do that.” He lifts up a beautiful cylinder box of long, thick matches. “Light them. Throw them in the fire pit.”
I sit beside a camping chair in front of the fire, take out one of the long matches, and strike it. I watch it lick up the thin wood until it almost reaches my fingers before I toss it into the pit. I do it again and again, watching the flame with exhilaration and the slightest hint of fear.
Am I like an alcoholic who just took a sip of a drink? Or have I mislabeled myself all this time?
As the growing line of lit candles fills the space with a warm glow, I walk between them. My feet are so light I practically feel like I’m dancing, free in the mesmerizing, intimate light they create.
Viktor stands, his huge arms crossed over his chest, nodding approvingly. “You're in control, Lydia. Feel the power without fear. It's not about destruction. This is about understanding and embracing what you love. You're safe.”
I swallow the lump in my throat when he says that.
I’m secure.
Sheltered.
Out of harm’s way.
My entire life, I've never felt safe, and I knew that when I lit those fires as a child and then as a teen—all that time I spent in juvenile hall, I was trying to gain some control. My mother had little interaction with me when I was younger, thanks to my father's grip on me. And Father didn't love me; he was only trying to mold me into the person he wanted me to be. His heir, the son he never had.
As the firelight casts shadows on our faces, highlighting the intensity of my emotions, I feel a sense of liberation. My fear melts away as he moves closer, his hand caressing my cheek, his touch tender and possessive. My breath quickens, my eyes darting from flame to flame, reveling in the reflection of the flickering flames in his eyes.
“I've never felt this way before.”
Viktor kisses my cheek. “You're safe with me, Lydia. Always. Let the fire be part of you, not something to fear.”
His lips brush against mine, the evening warmed by the firelight. The connection is intense, fueled by the shared moment of vulnerability and understanding… maybe even love. Safety is a beautiful, powerful mutual attraction.
He bends me back so he can kiss my neck. I let myself melt into the heat that consumes me, surrounded by flames, when he lifts me into his arms, and my legs encircle his thick, muscled torso. I never in my dreams imagined being with a man who could carry a curvy woman like me in his arms like this. But Viktor’s no ordinary mortal.
His footsteps unhurried, Viktor kisses me like we’re the last people on earth, the only two standing while the world around us burns to rubble. My tongue meets his, the sound of his deep, manly growl making my own need for him amp higher and higher with every second that passes.
This time, I didn't bite or claw. This time, he doesn’t spank my ass or dominate me. This time, he’s slow and seductive, and by the time he sits us in the chair by the fire pit, I’m so wet and eager to have him inside me, I can’t think beyond being filled by him.
He lifts my skirt and puts me bare-assed on his lap while he kisses my neck and scrapes his teeth along my collarbone. I whimper when he sucks and licks, flames of arousal growing between us. He moves me to his knee for seconds while he unfastens his buckle and pulls his hard, firm erection into his fist.
“We haven’t talked about birth control,” I whisper, a little afraid of where this will all take us.
The head of his hard cock meets my core, and I move involuntarily closer to him. I want him in me so badly I can hardly breathe.
He shakes his head, his eyes intent on mine. “Nothing between us, Lydia. Fucking nothing. You’ll have my babies, woman.” I half expect him to pound his chest and fist my hair, but he only holds my gaze.
I nod. “Yeah.”
I want children, too, when it happens naturally. I couldn’t walk away from this marriage—I tried, and I’m starting to realize… I’m not sure I want to.
With the first thrust, I throw my head back, anchoring myself on his shoulders, my arms wrapped around his strong neck. With the second, he’s splitting me open, and I whimper with need and want, my pleasure building as he thrusts in and nearly fully out of me before he plunges in my heat again and again. My head tips back, and he tears the top of my dress down so it pushes my full breasts up.