Page 200 of Forbidden Forget-Me-Not

I felt alive. I felt loved. I felt desired.

We had started as friends. Him too old for me. But I always knew, someday he would be mine. I loved him then. I loved him now. And I always would.

With every thrust, our fate was sealed.

He might be lethal, but if another woman ever touched him, she would never be found.

“Lani,” Goran roared, the sound echoing off the tiles and ripping another orgasm from my body. “Fuck yes. Come on my cock.”

My core clenched around him as another wave tore through me. Stars exploded behind my eyes as I screamed his name.

Goran froze, every muscle in his body flexed under my hands as he came. He pulled out a few inches before thrusting back in again, over and over, chasing the last wave of his release.

Finally, he stilled, holding me as we both panted, our foreheads pressed together.

“God, I fucking love you,” Goran breathed.

“I fucking love you too.”

Later, when we were lying in bed with me curled in his arms, all I could think about was how close I had come to losing everything that I loved. I shivered at the thought.

Goran, misreading it, reached down and pulled another blanket over us.

I was just drifting off when his voice brushed my ear.

“I need you to know, Lani. You’re the only thing in this world that can make me gentle. And the only thing that can make me twice as dangerous. Now rest. I’ve got you.”

My lip curved up as sleep finally claimed me.

Chapter

Fifty-Two

GORAN

Dimitri Mikhailov’s office was the same as the last time I had been here.

Cold.

Not in temperature. The room was warm enough. Sunlight poured through the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. But the space itself carried a chill. Every line of the furniture was sharp, clean, and intentional.

It was a room built for control.

Wooden shelves painted jet black lined one wall, each filled with leather-bound ledgers and books no one read. The desk at the center of the room was massive. Dark wood polished so it reflected the light like still water.

A room designed to make a statement.

Dimitri stood with his back to me, staring out over the skyline like he owned every building in the city.

Maybe he did.

He didn’t turn when I stepped inside.

“Close the door.” His voice was calm. The voice of a man who had commanded an army for years and buried many men without giving it another thought.

The soft click of the door sounded like a round entering the chamber of a gun. Only this time the gun was mine.

His eyes landed on me the same way they had the first day we met years ago. I was eight when my father brought me to work for the day. Dimitri had looked me up and down as if he were measuring me, deciding if I was worth the oxygen I breathed.