The Mafia and His Obsession Read Online Lylah James (Tainted Hearts #4)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Funny, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Tainted Hearts Series by Lylah James
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Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 104367 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 522(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 348(@300wpm)
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Viktor pushed the tray away and scooted closer, until our knees were touching. I swallowed against the sudden lump in my throat.

He took something out of his pocket, a tiny round container. I blinked in confusion when he didn’t explain.

But when Viktor opened it, I knew what it was. And it made my heart clench.

I looked up to see him intensely focused on his actions. Viktor applied the lavender-scented salve over my bruises. He made sure to cover all the red purplish marks, his touch gentle and soothing.

I have never had a man touch me so carefully before, as if he was scared to break me.

When he looked up at me, Viktor stared at me as if I was someone precious. Like he truly cared. And I believed it.

I believed the look in his eyes, and I held it close to my heart.

Viktor rolled up the sleeve on my other arm to check the damage too. This one had fewer bruises, but he still took care of them so sweetly. He didn’t say a word—not that he needed to.

His hand trailed down toward my hips. His touch left me shivering, even though I felt hot.

Viktor looked at me questioningly, and I swallowed nervously. Pulling away, I rummaged through my drawer. Finally, I could use his pen and my notepad again.

Without another look at him, I quickly scribbled down.

Thank you. I will do the rest.

Viktor’s hold grew tighter around my hips, but then he let go…only to touch the top of my collar. I knew it was bruising badly where Valentin had gripped my throat.

Viktor continued his gentle care. Dipping his finger into the salve, he brought his hand to my neck, slowly applying it to my itching, flaming skin.

His hand trailed across the collar, and his eyes grew darker. I wondered what was going on through his head.

In my dreams, he stole me away from here.

Would he do the same in reality?

Our eyes connected, and of my own accord, I moved closer. Like our bodies weren’t our own anymore, we moved toward each other—so close, almost touching.

His lips were inches from mine, his fingers lingering over my neck, his touch featherlight. So different from Valentin’s.

My eyes fluttered closed, but Viktor pulled away. He rubbed a hand over his face, looking frustrated for a second.

I missed his touch instantly, and I shook my head, trying to clear the web of thoughts. Thoughts of him—and us.

Viktor squeezed his hands into fists, his jaw and body locked tight. Hating the tortured expression on his face, I took the notepad in my hand again.

His eyes drifted toward it, and he waited for me to write.

Why are you here?

It appeared like he was clearing his throat, and then he was speaking. I watched his lips, listening to his words through the silence.

“Valentin came back, and I knew—” He paused and then sighed. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

I wasn’t okay before, but I think I am now.

With a heavy heart, I stared at my lap, staring at the pen pressed against the paper. I had replied without thinking. The truth has spilled out, and when I looked up, Viktor’s eyes meeting my own—I saw him truly looking at me.

I knew he wasn’t just seeing a face.

He was seeing my soul, because I chose to bare it to him.

Viktor opened his mouth, and then he closed it again, as if he was lost for words. Wanting him to continue speaking, I scribbled down on the paper.

Where is Valentin?

He took my free hand in his and then spoke. “He is drunk and passed out.”

Is that why you are here? Because he is passed out?

Viktor nodded without saying a word. I didn’t know what to say either. We both knew it was wrong—this was wrong. So wrong, yet we continued to play this game.

His fingers entwined with mine. “Valerie, I am sorry—”

I lurched forward, dropping the notepad and pen on the bed as I covered his mouth with my free hand, stopping his tirade of words.

I was on my knees beside him on the bed. In this position, I towered over him a little. Viktor had to look up into my eyes, and I hope he saw all my unsaid words.

His fingers tightened around mine, and he pulled me closer, our chests touching, our breathing harsher. My heart pounded as I stared into his dark brown eyes. My chest heaved with each labored breath.

I wanted to succumb to his embrace and forget everything. My palm stayed on his lips, our eyes looking, searching—doing the talking for us.

Finally, he moved. The mattress bent under his weight as his body came even closer. Until the other side of my hand was pressed against my lips.

My body locked tight, my eyes widening. Viktor watched my reaction—his focus only on me.


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