Chapter 42

DIMITRI

She stands in front of me like an illusion. I am scared she will disappear if I take a breath. She is made of everything I want. Her expression is a mixture of surprise and shock, the kind that is indecipherable, as she gapes at me like I am a mirage too.

“What the hell,” she says, her feet losing balance. She stumbles and collides with the door.

I reach for her at once, grasping her around her waist and pulling her close. A waft of her vanilla perfume sweetly assaults my nostrils like a drug. My skin tingles at the touch of her; it has found what it was looking for. She is a part of me.

“Woah, careful,” I whisper, pressing my nose to her temple, filling my lungs with her scent. Then I enter her apartment and shut the door.

“I don’t understand… How is this—oh my god!” she exclaims, slamming her hands over her mouth.

I don’t want to let go of her ever, but she squirms and struggles, so I press my lips beneath her earlobe, my teeth scraping her skin. “Shh. Breathe, love,” I murmur, brushing the hair from her cheek. “Tell me what you feel.”

She shivers, slowly standing straight and facing me. “I…I can’t believe you’re real. Like how…why…after all these years?”

“I couldn’t wait anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Reluctantly, I release her. The second her touch disappears, an emptiness washes over me. Everything turns cold, and I don’t want to be cold after all these years.

“Remember when I promised I wouldn’t stalk you anymore? Well… I lied.” My cheeks warm at the confession as her eyes widen a fraction. “I did stalk you. I couldn’t help myself. And today when I found out you broke up with your recent boyfriend, I couldn’t stay away.”

Every time she was in the arms of another man, it had me seeing spots. I wanted to strangle the asshole who dared to touch my girl, but then I had to remind myself that she wasn’t my girl anymore.

“He wasn’t my boyfriend,” Anya says, folding her arms under her perky tits.

She is dressed in a short white dress that drapes around her body like a glove. The sexy dip of her cleavage, with half of her tits out for eyes to feast on, taunts me. I can almost see the sharp tips of her nipples through the sheer fabric. It has blood rushing down to my cock.

“What was he, then?” I ask.

Her jaw twitches, and one eyelid flutters as she tries to maintain an impassive expression. “Just someone.”

“Just someone?”

She meets my gaze, her eyes speaking with deep emotions. “You were my last boyfriend. There wasn’t ever anyone else.” Her confession stills my heart. “I wasn’t your last, though, was I?”

I step closer, and she steps back. We dance that way until she is pressed to the wall, her hands curled by her sides and her gaze bolted on me. I place a shaking palm on her cheek, noticing the trembling of her bottom lip, which she catches between her teeth.

“Miss Renée, you are my last everything. There’s no one else.”

“But I saw those women…when I—” She looks away, not finishing the sentence, and her ears turn red.

“When you?” I prompt. A teasing smirk itches to tug my lips up.

“I…I…saw those women on your Facebook.” She seems to fumble for her words. “I thought…you’d forgotten me.”

“They were just to make you jealous. A part of me wanted you to regret your decision to break up with me.”

She raises her chin, her eyes welling with tears. “I had to. It was for him…for Blake.” Her selfless attitude is still the same. She hasn’t changed in the least.

“You have a soft heart, Miss Renée.” I press my forehead to hers, unable to look away from the hazel and gold of her eyes. “No wonder I fell for you so hard and so fast.”

Her hands slowly trail up my body, running over the hard planes of my chest, before she cups my face. “Is he okay? Is Blake okay?” She is asking about him, but her eyes are on my lips.

“He’s doing good. Has a job and is finally out of my ass.”

“So, there’s no one else?”

I move my hand to the back of her neck, grabbing a fistful of her pink hair. It is soft, just like the rest of her. Plus, the color suits her. It brings out a hint of the vibrancy that lives in her soul. I pull, and her chin lifts.

“None,” I mutter, my other hand reaching to her lips, my thumb tracing wantonly over their plumpness. “Only you.”

“And what about your job?” she asks. “Did I get you canceled for a lifetime?”

“No. Luca asked me to invest in the club four years ago,” I say. “I am part owner now.”

“And that makes you?”

“Just Dimitri.” I brush my lips against hers, my tongue licking the parting of her mouth. I am dying for a taste. “~Your Dimitri~.”

Anya’s cheeks are stained with tears. She gives me an admiring look, whispering, “Thank you…for coming back.”

“I’m sorry that I let you leave me, babe. I should have stopped you, should have kissed you, should have shown you how much I belong to you instead of letting you walk out.”

“You did the right thing.”

“No, this is the right thing.” I place my mouth on her, brushing a kiss over her jaw, and she moans, curling her fingers around the collar of my shirt. “You’re the right thing. Choosing you will always be the right thing.”

My mouth trails more kisses, and the contact with her skin sets me on fire. My hips dig into her, grinding the proof of my want for her against her.

“You’re choosing me now?” Anya asks, huskiness coating her voice as the friction between our centers intensifies. Goosebumps scatter across her exposed skin.

“Now and forever, babe.” I kiss her neck, biting and sucking on her skin. “There are no other options.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more.” My hand releases her hair and runs down her body to the hem of her little dress.

Bringing my mouth to hers, I glue our lips together as we kiss with hunger to make up for the five years of torment we put each other through. The taste of her explodes on my tongue like a liquid fire that threatens to annihilate us.

I drag my hand up her thigh, squeezing her warm flesh and drinking the moans she releases. “Fuck, I need to be inside you, amore mio,” I say when we part for breath. “Please let me be inside you.”

“Take me, Dimitri,” she says. “However you want to.”