Page 37 of Letters From Victor

“Oh God, Victor!” I cried out. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop!”

He groaned, digging his fingers into my flesh as he pounded into me. “Never,” he growled. “I’ll never stop. You’re mine now, Barbara. Mine to worship, mine to cherish.”

The coil of tension in my core wound tighter and tighter with each thrust. I was teetering on the edge, so close to shattering completely. Victor adjusted his angle to grind his pelvis againstme with each stroke. Every muscle in my body tensed until, at last, without control, I exploded.

“Victor!” I cried out as ecstasy crashed over me in waves. My body clenched around him rhythmically as heat poured through me. I clung to him desperately, raking my nails down his back as I shuddered and convulsed beneath him.

Victor groaned, his hips stuttering as my bliss triggered his. With a final powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside me and found his release. His entire body shuddered, and he buried his face in the crook of my neck as he gasped my name like a prayer.

We lay tangled together, our skin warm and dewy, hearts pounding as we caught our breath. Victor’s weight anchored me to the mattress, keeping me grounded even as I floated in a blissful haze. The tips of my fingers and toes tingled like radio static.

After a long moment, he lifted his head to gaze at me. His dark eyes met mine, filled with warmth and tenderness. He brushed a strand of hair from my forehead, his touch featherlight. “Are you all right, my darling?” he murmured.

I nodded, still breathless. “More than all right,” I whispered, a languid smile curving my lips. “That was…incredible.”

He chuckled softly and pressed a tender kiss to my forehead. “You’re incredible,” he said, his voice thick with reverence.

Victor eased out of me, then gathered me into his arms. I nestled against his chest, relishing the solid warmth of his body and the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear. He traced lazy patterns along my spine as we basked in the afterglow.

“I meant what I said before,” Victor said, his lips brushing my temple. “You’re mine now, Barbara. Completely and utterly mine.”

His possessive words sent a thrill through me. I tilted my head back to meet his intense gaze. “And you’re mine,” I replied softly but firmly. “I don’t want anyone but you, Victor.”

A slow, satisfied smile spread across his face. He cupped my cheek in his large hand, stroking my cheekbone with his thumb. “My beautiful, perfect angel,” he murmured. “I’ll give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more. I’ll cherish you, protect you, worship you.” His eyes blazed with conviction. “You’ll never want for anything again.”

18

VICTOR

“Ihave something for you.”

Barbara shifted to sit up from lounging on the sofa, dressed only in my button-down shirt.

I waved her back down. “Don’t move an inch. You’re stunning like that, my dear.”

I retrieved a slim black folio from the kitchen table and carried it to her, savoring the flicker of anticipation in her eyes. She traced the edge with her delicate fingers before carefully opening it. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she beheld the black-and-white photograph nestled inside.

The image captured Barbara in profile, her head tilted back, eyes closed in quiet rapture. Shadows and light played across the elegant curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts beneath the bodice of her dress. Every detail was crystalline—the sweep of her eyelashes, the fullness of her parted lips, her luscious hair spilling over one shoulder in silken waves of light and shade.

“Victor, it’s…” She exhaled, her voice trailing off as she gazed at the photo.

I settled beside her on the sofa, drinking in the sight of her long legs stretched out, my shirt riding up to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of thigh.

“Beautiful,” I finished for her, tracing my finger along the elegant line of her neck in the photograph. “Just like the subject.”

Barbara’s cheeks flushed a becoming pink as she gazed at the image.

“I have the rest back at the beach house. It was hard to pick a favorite. You’re so photogenic, my darling. But in this one”—I traced my fingers over the photograph—“you’re so…natural, raw, unguarded.”

Barbara’s eyes shone with quiet wonder as she studied the photograph. “I can hardly believe that’s me,” she murmured. “I look so…free.”

Cupping her cheek, I turned her face toward mine. “That’s exactly how I see you. Radiant. Vibrant. Utterly captivating.” I brushed my thumb across her bottom lip.

She set the folio aside and shifted onto my lap, the hem of my shirt riding up to bare the smooth curves of her thighs. My hands automatically settled on her hips as she wound her arms around my neck.

“Thank you,” she breathed, her blue eyes shining. “Not just for the photograph, but for everything. For making me…” Barbara’s voice faded as she held my gaze, emotion brimming in her eyes. I could see the words she couldn’t quite bring herself to say reflected in those sapphire depths—for making me feel alive, for showing me who I truly am, for loving me as I am.

I pulled her closer, sliding one hand up her back to tangle in her silken hair. “You don’t need to thank me, my darling,” I said softly. “Loving you, cherishing you, showing you your true self—it’s as natural and necessary to me as breathing.”