Valerian stopped.
“Why the hell are you stopping?” I was going to murder him dead!
He grinned up at me. “Because I like you angry.”
“I will literally pull a gun on you!”
I had one in my dresser.
He smirked.
I narrowed my eyes.
And then I lunged for my dresser, but he tackled me to the floor. The gun went tumbling, but I noticed that the knife I kept hidden under my bed beckoned.
“Oooo…” Valerian pinned my wrists above my head. “Not so fast, we wouldn’t want to get blood on the carpet.”
“Oh, we really would.” I clenched my teeth.
He leaned down to kiss me.
I fought him.
But it was impossible not to respond as he covered my body with his heavily muscled one. And then he was shimmying out of his jeans, tugging them down with one hand while holding me in place.
I squirmed beneath him and glared when he stopped kissing me for a few minutes and whispered, “You’re glorious. You know that, right?”
“Because I fight you? Or because you piss me off?”
“Because I see you.” He sobered. “I’ve only ever seen you, not the girl you want others to see, but the angry one who just wants to be heard, who wants her own life, the life I can share with her.” And then he was kissing me again, and my mind grew more muddled.
Because he was right.
He was hot and hard against my thigh, I tried to move my body to inch closer, but he just laughed against my mouth and then. “Do you need me?”
“Yes.” I tried to move my arms.
“Good.” He released me, and all hell broke loose, between me scratching his back in a vain effort to get closer, and him kicking off the rest of his jeans while still trying to claim my mouth in between.
We joined in an ugly tangle of moans and bodies sliding together. His first thrust filled me completely, his second almost sent me over the edge, and then he moved faster like he couldn’t help himself, his eyes almost frenzied as he leaned over and kissed me.
Closer, I needed to be closer.
But we were as close as two people could get.
And still, I craved more.
“You’re mine, Violet.” His voice was hoarse, his eyes drilling into me. “No matter what happens, you’ll always be mine.”
I moaned as his hips drove forward.
Gazes collided, locked.
I watched him own me.
And I felt a small part of myself give in.
And that small part was enough for me to experience the most mind-blowing orgasm I’d ever had.
And enough for me to scream his name.
“Valerian!” It was out before I could stop it.
He went over the edge so hard that I felt him pulsing inside me like a million tiny heartbeats.
He didn’t know. He was mine too. I was just too scared to say it, and too broken to confirm what he already knew.
I loved him.
I loved Valerian Petrov.
The new Petrov king.
And I only had four more hours to show him before he went back alone, and I stayed in Chicago with my distrust and broken heart.
I was a fool if I ever thought he would let me go.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Falling in love with your best friend is distracting, it’s terrifying, like falling out of an airplane and hoping they remembered the chute. —Valerian Petrov
Valerian
Vi always had a taste.
Most people focus on smell.
But the way she tasted always felt like home to me; even when I took her virginity, it was what I focused on.
The fact that she tasted like she always did.
Like she was mine.
Like she was just waiting for me to love her.
I could give her a million reasons why I’d believed it had been okay to hide my secrets, but the one truth that remained was that she was right—I should have trusted her with this a long time ago, but a part of me wondered if she would have hated me even then just like King did. For knowing that one day I would go away.
And come back different.
One day, I would have no choice.
I’d had to live with that sword hanging over me, but I’d wanted our friendship to be pure, untainted by a future I’d despised.
I sighed and pressed a kiss to her neck then slowly pulled out of her. Her chest was heaving, her eyes filled with tears like she wanted to cry or maybe just scream at me for loving her.
Good, let her scream.
Instead, she just stumbled to her feet and mumbled something about needing a shower.
I followed her.
Didn’t she know? I would always follow her.
She turned on the spray, and even though I’m sure it was freezing, she stepped under it. With a sigh, I opened up the glass door and followed.
Her back was to me, but her shoulders were shaking.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “Does it matter that I love you? That I would die for you?”