His home was now my home as well.
I felt gravity shift; something or someone was picking me up. How could this be? I hoped it wasn’t the police; that always ended up with a huge hassle and nothing good. Why would someone be bothering me in the middle of the night? This was a good alley, an alley out of the way where people wouldn’t pass by too much. When they did, they wouldn’t notice, and if they did notice, they wouldn’t do anything.
I flailed my arms and legs trying to escape. Whoever this was, it wouldn’t be good.
“Dove, stop that,” the man carrying me said, that powerful, commanding voice—Victor had come for me! I shook my head as the remnants of sleep left my brain. The back of my head throbbed.
I had been mugged. He must have hit me in the back of the head and then run away, confident I wouldn’t be able to tell police until he was long gone. Then, somehow, Victor had found me.
I clung to his neck clumsily; my hands had gone almost numb in the cold. Holding me with one powerful arm, he used the other to pull out his phone. “Oscar, I’ve got her. Come pick us up. Yes, right where he said.”
With that, he put the phone back in his pocket and looked down to me. As I looked up at him, I realized it was misting through the heavy fog. His bright blue eyes moved slowly across my face, showing real concern. “Are you hurt?”
I began to cry. All the confusion, all the hurt, all the anger of the past few days came pouring out of me. Tears mixed with the rain and burned hot down my cheeks. I buried my face in his chest. “I think a mugger hit me in the back of the head with his gun,” I managed after a moment.
“Shit.” Victor set me down on my feet. I wobbled on my legs for a moment and steadied myself on his arm. Once I had stopped staggering, he kept one gloved hand on my shoulder while he inspected the back of my head with the other. “I’m sorry I didn’t protect you Dove.”
I was too tired to argue with him, to tell him that I was the one who should be sorry, to ask him how he’d found me anyway. I leaned into his chest as we stood in silence until Oscar arrived with the car.
***
Once we were settled into the leather seats of Victor’s car, I turned to him and asked what I’d been wondering since I had recognized his face. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I tried to call your phone but you wouldn’t answer, so I called Charles.” Before I could ask how he had Charles’s number, he continued. “He said you had gone to the city and he didn’t know when you’d be back. I felt like something was off, so I decided I’d have Oscar drive me around town to look for you while I kept trying your phone.”
I looked around the car a moment and realized my coat was in the seat next to me. The coat that had been stolen just hours earlier.
“Victor,” I said, “how did you get my coat?”
Victor removed his gloves, wincing as he eased the leather off his right hand. With his left, he stroked my cheek with the backs of his fingers. I kept my eyes on the right and realized it was badly swollen. Moving up his arm I also saw blood on his sleeve.
“You have blood on your shirt! What happened?”
He kissed me then, passionately and fully on the lips, his mouth pressing against mine with an urgency I could scarcely believe. His tongue found mine and pressed down on it, forcing it back before retreating and letting me respond, which I did eagerly. He closed the kiss by grazing my lower lip with his teeth before pulling away. Face still close to mine, he replied. “As we were searching, I saw a man holding the coat I bought you in Paris and became suspicious. Oscar pulled over and we got out. I asked him where he’d gotten such a lovely coat, and he said he’d just bought it for his wife. I told him that was impossible, because that coat could only be found at a shop in Paris, and I would know since I’d bought it.
“He tried pulling a gun and things got a little rough. If Oscar hadn’t stopped me I might have killed him, to be honest.”
“I doubt he has many ribs left intact, sir,” Oscar said from the front. “Thank goodness there were no people around.”
Victor chewed on his lower lip. I could tell he was clearly angry the mugger had hit me. “Anyway, I told him I’d make him wish he were dead if he didn’t tell me where you were. To his credit he was very specific with the alley I’d find you in, and sure enough you were there. Though now I know why he could be so sure,” he finished with a growl.
“You could have been hurt! He had a gun!”
“I know. It’s up front with Oscar.” He pulled me close to him so my face, still wet, was buried in his shirt. “At that moment, I didn’t care. I wanted you back and safe with me.”
It was all I had wanted too. I burrowed deeper into his body, smelling the mixture of rain and sweat in his shirt, and lay there without a word for the rest of the drive.
***
Back at the mansion, Victor carried me up the stairs as I lay in a half daze. When we made it to my room, he set me down gently on my bed and took my wet clothes off before wrapping me up in a thick blanket. He disappeared for a moment and came back with some painkillers, hydrogen peroxide, cotton balls, and a glass of water. After disinfecting the cut on the back of my head and giving me my painkillers, he put everything on my nightstand and sat in a chair next to my bed. I lay on my side and looked at him in the candlelight, his white dress shirt transparent, wet and slightly bloody at the cuffs, his blond hair still soaked and stuck to his forehead, his right fist swollen.
His eyes were locked on me sadly, drained from an exhausting day. The previous several hours had been a real trial for both of us. As I stared at this beautiful, nearly broken man in front of me, I realized that I had no decision to make between Victor and Justin. The way I felt when I saw Victor was like nothing I had ever felt in my life, even now with my memories restored. My relationship with Justin had been a good one, and maybe I would have led a happy life with him if I hadn’t been in the accident, but the fire in my heart when I saw Victor was something entirely different. It was intuitive, a key to a lock, and the only hesitation I had was hesitation because of fear, because I was afraid of the intensity of the heat he stoked in my heart.
“Dove,” he started, after we had been staring at each other for several minutes, “I need to tell you something.”
I bit back the words that had formed in my throat and watched him. Tears came to the surface of my eyes; I was overwhelmed and Victor was about to pour into an overfull cup. But, for all that, I was pretty sure I wanted to hear this.
“I don’t know what’s happened since you went to your old house with your brother. I haven’t asked you and he didn’t tell me much on the phone, just that you’d gone. So I don’t know if it’s too late to clear things up between us. I don’t know what’s changed, but I want to make myself clear now, because I didn’t at the picnic, and I know that isn’t fair.
“I came to terms with how I feel about you just after you left and now that I have you here in front of me, I know it more than ever. I love you, and I’ve been in love with you for a very long time now. I tried to deny it over and over because I was scared. I was scared of being hurt, of being abandoned by someone else. That’s why I would always find an excuse to leave whenever you tried to tell me how you felt. It was silly of me to think I was cursed, that I would never find love without someone being hurt. I’m so sorry that I left you in confusion. I hope it’s not too late for me to tell you this.”
When he was finished, I cried. My emotions had been almost at a boil since he had set me down on the bed, and finally they overflowed. I cried from exhaustion, from the confusion, for my parents, for my past, and for the pain my decision would bring upon Charles and Justin. Mostly, I cried tears of release, release from the anxiety I had felt from not knowing what Victor’s feelings were for me, not knowing what our relationship was, whether it would continue forever, and now I cried tears of joy, knowing that this man in front of me was in love with me and that I most certainly loved him more than anything or anyone I had ever loved i
n my life, or ever would love.
“Oh Victor,” I said, and for a moment I could not form any words to describe how happy I was feeling. I started laughing through my crying eyes. “I love you too. I can’t stand another moment without you.” I propped myself up on my elbow and leaned forward as he did the same so I could kiss him, my free hand pulling him toward me. He crawled into my bed, wet clothes and all, and continued to kiss me, thick and lush on my mouth.
Finally, he laid on his stomach while I was on my back, his hand cradling my cheek. We stared into each other’s eyes in silence. After some time, I spoke. “Hey,” I whispered, “you’re wearing entirely too many clothes.”
He groaned and closed his eyes before turning on his back and taking off his pants. When he was done, he flopped his head over and looked back at me, clearly exhausted.
“The shirt too.”
He went to unbutton the shirt but grimaced as his right hand tried to undo the first button.
“Roll over and let me.” After another attempt, he rolled to his side and presented his chest to me. I reached out from my warm blanket and undid the buttons of his shirt. When I got to the bottom button, I brushed my hands against his cock, still hidden in a bulge under his black cotton boxer briefs. “These too,” I said, running my hand down his impressive shaft. I felt myself getting wet immediately.
“Dove, no. You’re hurt. We’ll have plenty of time to have sex tomorrow or whenever you feel better.”
“Please. I’m ready for you now.” I felt him getting harder. “I know just how much I can take. I want you inside me.”
“Dove, I’m exhausted. Tomorrow, I promise.”
“I’ll ride you then. I want you inside me,” I repeated.
As his hand travelled inside my blanket I opened my legs to show him my arousal. His fingers travelled up my thighs, sliding slick as they got closer to my warm pussy. When they got there, he stuck one and then two fingers in and out, curling them up to touch my sweet spot each time, before pulling out and curling slow tight circles around my clit.
“My god, you are ready, aren’t you? Well, I’m not going to let you hurt yourself anymore than you already are.” His fingers left me as he quickly pulled his briefs down, his cock springing ready. He opened up my blanket. “I’ll be gentle.”
He turned and brought himself over me, curling the blanket around him so it was draped over both of us as he spread my legs wider. I ached to reach out to him and pull him close and kiss him as he positioned himself over my throbbing pussy. The huge head of his cock dragged over my clit several times before pulling away. When he entered me, I moaned and finally pulled him close for a deep kiss.
“I love you.”
I smiled as he kissed me, my smile widening against his lips. “I love you too, Dove.”
He moved in and out of me slowly and deeply, building up an easy rhythm. Kisses poured down all over my face and down on my neck, light and heavy, long and quick. His breath began coming hard even though he wasn’t exerting himself too heavily, being as gentle as he was. The intensity of each controlled movement he made drove me insane with arousal and a new mist erupted around my body. An orgasm was ready to break through.
Reaching up and grabbing a fist full of his still wet hair, I pulled his ear close to me. “We’re going to come together, aren’t we?”
He looked at me in surprise and said nothing, but began pumping in and out of me faster. My entire core was on fire and I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer. “I love you,” I moaned.
Rather than respond with words, he closed his eyes, and I watched him as he began to come with a low groan. As I felt the first of his seed inside me, I was pushed over the edge myself, and tightened around him in an eruption of pleasure. Bolt after new bolt of electricity pulsed from my center, radiating out from head to toe.
Soon, we were kissing again, gliding our tongues together in slow, deep kisses. “I love you, too,” he whispered in my ear. “And I will forever.”
He pulled on my side carefully as he turned to his back. My head found a familiar spot on his chest. At some point as he was stroking my hair away from my face, I fell into a deep slumber, happier than I had ever been in my entire life.
Epilogue
Paris was exactly as I remembered it, beautiful and bustling with the hum of its residents. Victor took me by the elbow and navigated us through the congested streets, seemingly more anxious about my art show than I was. It was a warm June evening; people were gathered by the Seine River throwing shreds of bread at the flocking birds while others watched the street artists perform their tricks. Strolling along the river with my husband, I couldn’t help but feel that this was as close to perfect as life could get.
The show was taking place in the prestigious Wolf Gallery in the heart of Paris. I had been invited by Marissa to showcase a few pieces at the Lotus Gallery, and it was there that the curator from Wolf noticed my work and invited me to participate in their exhibit the following summer. The intervening ten months had felt like an eternity, but finally my moment had arrived.
As we walked, I thought briefly of Justin. I had seen him again to tell him that despite having regained my memory I wasn’t the same girl he had loved before the accident. I remembered us, I remembered having loved him back, but I also remembered everything that came after us, the homelessness and how I grew with Victor, and I just couldn’t go back to the way things were. He didn’t take it well. A few months later, he left for South Asia to do graduate research.
Charles was doing better. He had met a guy he finally clicked with and that he could make time for, and the two of them had actually flown overseas to see my exhibit. I was very excited for my brother and nervous to meet his new boyfriend. While things hadn’t gone quite as Charles envisioned when he first realized I was alive, we were forming a new bond, and it was very important to me to strengthen that bond.
Although our two year anniversary had been months before the show, Victor wanted to celebrate in the city where we first began to fall in love with one another, booking a room at the same hotel, making reservations at the same restaurant. He said he would have proposed to me there, but that he couldn’t wait for the next trip. Instead, he got down on one knee during an exhibit at the Lotus Gallery and practically demanded that I marry him. I didn’t think twice.
We’d spent the week of the Wolf Gallery show seeing the usual attractions, visiting the Louvre, climbing to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and walking through the Notre Dame de Paris. Our nights were spent making love. I’d almost forgotten we were there for me until Victor walked out of the bathroom in a tuxedo that hugged his lean and muscled frame, but once we were at the gallery I couldn’t imagine we’d come here for anything else.
“Here we are again in Paris, admiring your art,” Victor said as we approached the gallery, a small limestone building illuminated by the glow of floodlights.
My mind went back to my brief stint as a Parisian street artist during my first visit. So much had happened since that day. “This might be a slightly bigger stage.” I laughed. “Honestly, it’s hard to believe I’m back here at all.”
“With your husband and your brother at that.”
I laughed. A few years ago I could never have imagined having either of them in my life, and now I had both.
“Let’s go find Charles.”
With that, Victor took my hand and we made our way through the crowded gallery—my life with Victor and my life before the accident had fit together and I finally felt like I was where I belonged.
The End
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The Surrender Series Excerpt #2
An excerpt from Priscilla West’s highly anticipated Surrender Series!
“Here we are, you can go inside. Vincent’s ready for you.�
� The receptionist stopped in front of a frosted glass door. The same glass formed a wall that stretched to either side of the entry.
I nodded thanks to her before pushing open the door and walking inside. Silence greeted me. Whatever the glass was made of, it completely blocked the noise from outside. In the corner was a black leather couch with a small coffee table in front of it. A large desk was set squarely in the center of the room, a metal and glass tribute to modernity. It was a stark contrast to his desk in Cape Town.
Vincent stood by the window, one arm behind his back, looking out. He was wearing a navy suit matched with a grey tie and white shirt. His long locks were slicked neatly back. Unwillingly preoccupied with wild fantasies, I nearly tripped on the rug in front of his desk as I walked closer. My pulse danced in my veins and a flush coursed through my cheeks. If I had fallen on him twice, I would’ve died from embarrassment.
Blue skies and skyscrapers along Central Park silhouetted his figure. He looked equally comfortable in a suit as he had in shorts and flip-flops.
He turned around, his dark eyes shimmering. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
I looked at his chin, chiseled with perfect angles, as if carved from a slab of marble. My eyes moved up to his mouth, his lips full and soft.
I cleared my throat. “Yes, it is. I’ve never quite gotten used to the view. Good to see you again, Mr. Sorenson.”
“Please Kristen, have a seat.” I stumbled to the guest chair in front of his desk while Vincent remained by the window.
I took it as my cue to continue. I set my bag down and reached inside for the glossy documents Richard and I prepared for a follow-up meeting.
Vincent studied me for a moment, his head tilted slightly to one side, as if examining a piece of art. Or his prey. Not knowing what else to do, I unleashed my rehearsed speech. “Thank you for meeting with me again. Waterbridge-Howser will be an excellent choice for your wealth management needs. We offer personal attention as well as products that larger—”
Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels Page 87