Sinful Addiction

XLVI

ELENA CASSANO

Though I didn't want to open my eyes, I did for some reason. The reason being Ruslan Vetrov who was humming a low, melodic sound.

The sunlight shone through the blinds and reflected off his beautiful, hard face. I used to hate the fact that he had such a handsome face and seemed so unattainable but now I loved that he was unattainable to everyone but me.

The television was playing in the background, the news anchor was talking about the murders that happened as of this morning. And the culprit was lying next to me. His long legs dangled from the bed, the duvet covered the hard-on he was sprouting.

A lit cigarette hung from the edge of his lips, eyes occasionally glancing at the words on the laptop but his pure focus was on me.

I finally gave it like I always did and glanced up at the hulk-like man lying on the bed, naked with warm eyes and tempting promises lingering in his touch.

He raised a brow when we made eye contact almost like he was daring me to make the first move. I couldn't help but smile—a sleepy, incoherent look on my face as I stared at him.

The man who I had always known to glare at people especially me—smiled back. A dazzling soft smile which one would often show to a loved one. Something only I got to see.

"Good morning."

"Dobryy den'" He corrected me with a sleepy chuckle which sounded like the sound of heaven bells ringing. A tatted hand caressed the side of my cheek affectionately and told me in a low murmur. "Your little friend Dallas came over and asked for you earlier. Thought he was gay."

(Good afternoon)

With narrowed eyes, I attempted to pull away from his touch but the man held my chin in a strong vice.

"Ruslan. What did you do to him?"

His hand slowly moved to my neck and he tightened his grip in a way that made shivers travel down my body. I released a breathless sigh when the look in his eyes heated into oblivion. "Not yet. Tell me that little boy is not interested in you."

"He's not." This Russian man couldn't be possibly jealous over Dallas, could he? "It doesn't matter if he's interested in me because you're mine." I suddenly mumbled out of nowhere.

His heated blue eyes softened just as quickly as the fire died down in his body. He became relaxed, curving his whole body around to meet my eyes. A light forehead kiss. "Da. I'm yours." He whispered so lovingly I almost melted like a cold sundae in the middle of July. "And you're mine, hm?"

"Yes." I wouldn't even disagree with that even If I was drugged.

"Good." A muscle ticked in his hard jaw before he breathed a slow sigh. "I don't want to see that man around you again, kosehchka or else I won't be responsible for my actions." Before I could respond, he flicked my chin gently. "And it's not up for debate. No more of that, da?"

I pouted but nevertheless agreed. "Yes sir." His dark blue eyes deepened and he shook his head with eyes full of amusement.

We looked at each other in silence for a second, not moving. So much emotion filled inside me that I almost forgot to breathe. "You're so goddamn beautiful, it hurts sometimes, baby." He whispered in a hoarse voice as if the fact pained him physically.

He brushed his sensual lips over my nose and inhaled a deep, resigned sigh. "Sometimes, I just want to stand there and look at you. Nothing else."