Never Again Yours (Isadora and Magnus) novel Chapter 364

After saying that, he wrapped his arm around the still-dazed Isadora and led her away without another word.

In the car.

Victor pulled a pack of cigarettes from the console, slipped one out, and twirled his lighter deftly between his fingers. The blue flame flickered to life, illuminating the shadows inside the car. As if suddenly remembering something, Victor snapped the lighter shut. He tossed both the cigarette and the lighter out the window without hesitation.

Isadora sat in the passenger seat, stealing a glance at him. His profile was all sharp angles and striking lines, eyes deep-set and intense, his jaw almost too perfectly chiseled. Whatever he was feeling, he kept it buried deep—his expression gave nothing away.

She broke the silence. "Are you angry?"

"Hm?"

Victor turned his gaze to her, his eyes dark and unreadable, the blue in them deep as midnight. "Not angry."

He was jealous.

Without another word, Victor reached over and pulled Isadora into his lap, settling her across his thighs.

His dark gaze locked onto her, unmoving, tracing every feature of her beautiful face. For a long moment, he simply stared, as if he could memorize her with his eyes alone.

Then, in a voice low and rough with something like vulnerability, he murmured, "Isadora, do you think there's any room for me in your heart?"

She stared back at him, taking in every flawless angle of his face. "Room… for you?"

Victor ran his tongue along his back teeth, the words coming out crisp and clear. "I want you to love me."

Isadora froze, caught off guard.

"I—"

Before she could finish, Victor reached up and pressed his hand to the back of her head, pulling her into a kiss. Whatever words she'd meant to say were lost against his lips.

"It's okay," he breathed against her mouth. "Even if I'm the only one who loves, that's enough for me."

The air between them filled with a charged, intimate warmth.

…

Some time later, Victor had returned to his usual lazy, almost careless demeanor, as if the man who'd just bared his soul had never existed.