Author's Note: Whew! This chapter is a doozie and took forever to write! The song Yuri skates to in this chapter is "Beautiful" by Apocalyptica. Thanks for your patience and continued interest in this story!

"Are you worth your weight in gold?
'Cause you're behind my eyelids when I'm all alone."
~ "Hurricane" by Panic! at the Disco

Victor awoke the next morning feeling aroused. As he became more aware of his surroundings, he realized that his boxer briefs were uncomfortably damp and sticky. He opened his eyes to see Yuri sleeping peacefully mere inches from him - the inspiration behind the erotic dreams he had experienced through the night. He tried to recall the details of the dreams just to have a clearer picture of his desires, but memories teased at the edges of his consciousness leaving him feeling increasingly inflamed and frustrated.

His pining for her was stronger than he realized to have resulted in the first wet dream he'd had in years. He stared at Yuri and took note of one arm slid beneath the pillow and the other fisted and touching her chin just below her mouth. It was the unguarded expression on her face that Victor was compelled to admire because she had never been at ease like this around him thus far. Victor could feel a battle rage within him between his instinctual desires and his rational thoughts. He knew what would satisfy him the most was to roll over and claim Yuri, but he also was aware that Yuri hadn't expressed comfort with this aspect of their relationship yet.

Victor felt gross from the messy state of his genitals, and he rolled out of bed to the en suite bathroom. He peeled the offending garment off and tossed it to the side, disgusted with how a natural bodily function made him feel like an inexperienced teenager once again. It brought back some general unsavory memories of that time in his life that he wished would just stay hidden. Victor turned the shower on and waited for the water to warm. As he did so, he continued his attempts at recalling his dreams.

Brief visions of Yuri's flawless naked skin flashed across his mind, but the detail was fuzzy enough that he couldn't quite discern which part of her body he was seeing. Still, the fleeting images were enough to make Victor whine with need. He stuck a hand in the spray to gauge its warmth, and once satisfied with the temperature, he stepped in with a blissful sigh.

His hand immediately went down to the base of his erection, and he began sliding his hand slowly upward, adding more pressure at the head and placing a thumb to rub at the sensitive tip. The relief he felt from the contact made him exhale loudly, and his eyes closed as he tipped his head back. His gasps and rumbles of pleasure remained quiet as he imagined that it was Yuri that was touching him. He could feel tendrils of ecstasy pool deep into his groin, and he thrust into his own hand at an agonizing pace to draw out the build to orgasm.

Victor had no idea what Yuri would actually say during sex - if she did speak - and he had no idea how loud her vocalizations would be. All he could do was fantasize what would drive him over the edge, and he began whispering what would turn him on. The breathy quality of his words made it easier for him to think it was Yuri telling him how much she needed him and how she wanted to make him feel good as his mind turned it's entire attention to the satisfying sensations overtaking his body.

The languorous motion at which he bucked his hips was losing its effectiveness. He thrust a little harder and faster into his twisting hand, drawing out a low groan that echoed through the shower stall. He didn't care if anyone heard him. Victor braced himself against the wall with his left hand flat against the cool tile. All he could think about was Yuri and how amazing it would feel to finally be able to connect with her on this level.

The world around Victor fell away until all he was aware of was the electrifying sensations and the hot water running over his body. He could smell the faint presence of almond - the same scent he had detected in her hair yesterday, and it sent a thrill of excitement through him.

"Yuuuri," he mewled desperately.

Victor's breath hitched, and a strangled cry emitted from his lips as he tumbled over the edge. He kept thrusting through his orgasm until the stimulus was too much. He stilled his movements, letting his body slump with his left hand taking on the brunt of his weight. He felt spent, but he knew that the relief he felt now was temporary. He would only be truly satisfied by his wife.

Victor let out a shuddering breath and rose to his full height. His breathing had slowed, and he felt more focused on the day ahead of him instead of being consumed by lust. He grabbed his loofah and bottle of body wash, and while uncapping the bottle to pour some of the blue liquid on the loofah, Victor thought of something he and Yuri could do together today. He didn't really want to do it, but he knew it would make Yuri happy, and the gesture would serve to strengthen their relationship.

He was going to take Yuri to the ice rink where the Russian team practiced. He hoped that he could convince the coach to allow Yuri to skate for the team as Victor was sure Yuri wanted to continue her career as a competitive figure skater. It was going to be painful walking through those doors, especially since he hadn't left on good terms.

The thought of returning to the rink brought to the forefront of Victor's mind all the pain and anger associated with that time in his life. He began scrubbing at his skin roughly - a physical manifestation of the rage within. The memories resurfacing brought back the hopelessness he had felt having his dreams crushed and the shame for letting down someone Victor had come to consider a part of his family. He had avoided the rink all these years as his way of putting a bandage over a very deep wound that hadn't even begun to heal.

But I'll do it for her...Victor thought as he rinsed the foam off his body. He quickly washed his hair before turning the water off. He stepped out of the shower and went through his normal routine as a way to calm all the roiling emotions within. Once he had shaved his face, applied lotion, and combed his hair, he went back into the bedroom. Yuri was still fast asleep on the bed. Victor retreated to his walk-in closet and pulled out a casual pair of slacks and a designer long-sleeved t-shirt. He grabbed a pair of black socks, knowing his feet would get cold in the rink if he just wore loafers.

Once dressed, Victor emerged from the closet and went to Yuri's closet. He rooted around until he located an athletic bag with skates and practice clothing. He removed the items from the bag and went back to his own closet to place them in one of his own athletic bags in order to preserve the surprise. He then made his way to the bed. He leaned over Yuri and brushed her hair out of her face, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. She stirred. Her eyes fluttered open when Victor murmured her name. She looked momentarily confused as she woke, and Victor smiled.

"Good morning, sleeping beauty," he greeted playfully. "Are you ready to face another day?"

Yuri rubbed at her eyes, and it was obvious she wasn't able to process everything quickly yet. "Umm...yes?"

"Good, because I have a surprise for you. Wear something comfy, and we'll go get breakfast out."

Victor then vacated the room. It was taking everything in him to remain upbeat and chipper and to not give in to his anxiety about facing his former coach. He really wanted to just go out to breakfast, but he knew Yuri would be disappointed if he didn't follow through. His parents had often done that to him as he was growing up, and he definitely didn't want to make Yuri feel the same way he had.

Yuri emerged from the bedroom dressed in yoga pants and a grey long-sleeved t-shirt. The pair donned their heavy coats and scarves before trudging through ankle deep snow to a small diner down the road. Victor was distracted throughout breakfast - only paying attention enough to order his food, reply to Yuri's conversation with one word answers, and eat. When breakfast was finished, it was like coming out of a fog when Yuri tentatively reached out to touch his arm. He looked down at her and saw a question in her eyes.

"Is everything all right? You've been...distant since we left the flat."

"Sorry," Victor replied sincerely. "I became distracted. Are you ready?"

Yuri nodded. "Where are we going?"

Victor reached out to Yuri's hand and took it. Yuri didn't shy away from the contact, he realized. She didn't even blush. It was as if they had always held hands in public, which was a new development for their marriage. "We're going somewhere...I hope will become a second home to you."

They walked silently hand-in-hand, but Victor couldn't enjoy it. He was too focused on imagining all the different reactions he would receive and the outcomes. He played each scenario out in his head and rehearsed what he would say because when it came down to it, he wanted Yuri to be a part of the Russian team.

They turned the corner and the familiar blue building came into view. Victor's heart rate skyrocketed as his nerves took over. All he could think about was the negative reaction he was sure to get from his former coach. They walked into the building, and Yuri gasped in surprise.

"Victor..." she managed to get out, tears of happiness shining in her eyes.

Victor smiled warmly. Success. "This is the home rink of the Russian team. I know you used to be a part of the Japanese team, and I was going to ask the coach if you could join the Russian team...seeing as you are Russian by marriage."

"I would love that!" Yuri's smile was the widest he'd ever seen it.

"We just have to talk to Yakov."

Victor took a deep breath and then exhaled before leading Yuri toward the ice. Now was the time for Victor to shove down all of his insecurities. He knew that no matter how he approached Yakov, the man would be furious. When he realized this truth, Victor was more confident in the way he was going to approach the cranky man. Reaching the ice, Victor could hear the familiar gruff voice of the man that had been such an integral part of Victor's adolescence barking out orders. It induced a fond smile from Victor despite his trepidation.

"Oy, Yakov...who's this geezer?" A blonde-haired youth inquired rudely as he slid to a stop at the boards.

Victor's heart felt like it was going to break through his ribs with the force of its beating, causing him to ignore the slight from the teenager. The aforementioned man stood still for a moment before turning around to face them. It took the briefest moment before Yakov's dark eyes processed who was standing there. A look of shock quickly shone in his eyes before he glowered, harrumphed, and looked away.

"I thought I told you never to come back."

Out of the corner of his eye, Victor saw Yuri stiffen from Yakov's words. He knew she wasn't familiar with how Yakov worked. Victor wasn't ready to give up, and he knew it wouldn't take much to convince the man. Victor had a feeling that even after all these years, Yakov still loved him. He put on his charming smile saved for the media and other public outings and sauntered over to Yakov.

"I'm not the one coming back, Yakov. My wife wants to join the team."

Yakov eyed him, but before he could say anything, the blonde chimed in. "Who is he, Yakov?"

"Go skate, Yuri!" Yakov bellowed, his face beginning to turn a shade of red.

The blonde muttered under his breath as he slid away from the boards. Yakov then turned to regard Victor. Victor saw the tiniest bit of uncertainty in Yakov's eyes, which meant that Victor had a chance at convincing the elder man to allow Yuri to skate for Russia.

"What makes you think I want another skater much less someone tied to the Nikiforov name?"

Well, that stung. Victor immediately guessed that Yakov, too, was still upset with the way things had transpired between the two of them all those years ago. It was a roadblock but also an opportunity because he had admitted indirectly that he still cared for Victor enough to feel this way so many years later. Victor waved toward Yuri to beckon her over, and she gingerly joined them.

"She's a Japanese national champion. I haven't seen her skate yet, but her ballet is phenomenal! I think you'd be remiss to let this one go. She has a lot of potential."

Yakov's gaze turned to Yuri, evaluating her. "A national champion doesn't mean much. And I'm not sure I should accept a such a glowing recommendation from someone like you, especially when you haven't seen her skate."

The hits kept coming, which Victor expected, but he had to admit it was getting tougher to maintain his cool by the minute. He felt that Yakov was being unfair as they were both aware that it wasn't Victor's decision to quit. Victor's fake smile became broader as he continued, drawing Yakov's attention back to him.

"Don't punish her for something she had no part in. Just...give her a chance. I'm sure she won't disappoint."

Victor looked to Yuri, and noticed she had gone deathly pale. Yakov returned his gaze to her and appraised her. "You wouldn't happen to be Yuri Katsuki?"

Yuri nodded. "I am."

Yakov sighed. "Get on the ice and warm up. I want to see your short program from last season." He then turned back to Victor as Yuri scuttled off. "You don't know anything about her, do you?"

Victor's answering shrug was nonchalant. "I know enough."

Yakov's eyes narrowed. "I see you haven't changed. Your parents are still making decisions for you."

Now Victor was just annoyed, his patience running thin. Victor realized that Yakov could tell he wasn't being honest with his outward emotions. He had been the only person who cared enough to call him out on it. Despite this, Victor was determined to keep a wall up between him and Yakov because the last thing he wanted was to discuss the past. Not when it still hurt. "You wouldn't understand, Yakov."

Yakov's attention turned back to the the ice to watch the blonde Yuri. "Yuri! That is the sloppiest quad I've ever seen!" A short pause. "Yuri Katsuki is a Japanese National Champion, and last year, she qualified for the Grand Prix Final for the first time."

Victor was surprised. "She did?"

"She was a mess." Victor flinched slightly at Yakov's brusqueness. "I barely paid attention after she flubbed her first triple combo in her short. She was dead last."

Yakov had very high standards for his skaters, which was why the Russian team always produced highly competitive and successful skaters. They were always technically sound, sometimes at the cost of artistry. Victor felt that if Yuri put the same emotion into her skating as she did into her ballet, he was sure Yakov would be drawn in. He could be persuaded to work on her technique if she showed how much artistry she truly had. Victor sighed.

"Not everyone is appointed to the Grand Prix series, so there must be something there."

"But can she meet my standards? You certainly did...but that was thrown away."

Victor's head whipped to the side to glare at Yakov. "I'm not here to discuss me. What's done is done...I can't change it."

Yuri picked the perfect time to enter the area wearing the same long-sleeved t-shirt, black pants that clung tightly to her skin, gloves, and her skates. Her hair had been tied back into a ponytail. Victor watched as she placed all of her things on the bench, her phone clutched tightly in her hands. Yakov clapped and all the skaters on the ice came over. Yakov directed them off the ice while Victor took Yuri's phone with an encouraging smile.

"Which song?"

"Beautiful."

I've never heard of that one before. The title made the contents of the song sound dubious, and Victor found himself hoping he hadn't made a bad decision by bringing Yuri to the rink. He went scrolling through her playlist to find the song. He walked over to the sound system as Yuri took to the ice and skated a few circles around the rink before taking her position at the center. Victor saw her stand with one foot behind the other with toe pick in the ice. Her arms were wrapped around her torso with head bent downward to touch her left shoulder. Yuri gave a nod, and Victor pressed play.

The song did live up to its title in an understated way that screamed Yuri's personality. The song started quietly with two cellos as Yuri gently unfurled herself and slid slowly across the ice. A third cello entered the song and Yuri's speed increased. The lines of her body were fluid and yet so controlled at once. As the music came to a subtle crescendo, she completed a triple salchow, double axel combo. Her landing was a little wobbly, but she stuck it. The breath that Victor didn't realize he had been holding was released through pursed lips.

Victor heard Yakov hum thoughtfully as the performance continued. Yuri was mesmerizing on the ice - her step sequences and spins were things of beauty, but as another crescendo approached, Yuri's triple axel ended with her crashing to the ice. Victor's heart jumped up into his throat, and he let out a gasp, taking a step forward as if he was going to run out on the ice if she didn't get up.

Yuri rose from the ice clearly rattled, but she continued on. The rest of the skate wasn't as controlled as the beginning had been, but she finished with a triple lutz followed by a combination spin. She stood in the center briefly before she skated toward the boards, her face drawn tight with disappointment. Yakov brushed past Victor and began speaking to Yuri in hushed tones. Victor desperately wanted to know what was being said. Yakov then motioned to the rest of the skaters who took to the ice once more. Yuri joined them, and Victor grinned in triumph.

Yakov approached Victor once more. "It was a terrible choice of music for a short at an international competition like the Grand Prix."

The passion for skating that had been bottled up inside Victor for so long exploded out of him. "I agree! It was a beautiful skate, but it wasn't remarkable or competitive. Yuri needs something that will challenge her and show them that she's a force to contend with."

Yakov smirked. "She needs to work on her jumps."

Victor waved away his concern with a swift motion of his hand. "It'll happen. I believe in her."

A short beat of silence. "For someone who barely knows his wife, you're awfully quick to sing her praises. Does she truly have potential, or am I taking a risk on someone who is really mediocre just because Victor Nikiforov asked me to?"

Victor closed his eyes and clenched his fists to remind himself to keep his annoyance in check. Anyone who had seen Yuri dance would never call her mediocre. "Yakov-"

"Don't insult me, Vitya," Yakov chided. "I expect nothing less than honesty from my skaters, including the ones that walk away."

Hot tears stung his eyes, and he opened them to regard Yakov with the most vulnerable expression he had revealed in a long time. He hadn't let anyone see him this open since the day he was forced to say good-bye to Yakov. "Please," Victor choked out. "Don't make me do this now."

Yakov regarded Victor for a few moments, making him squirm in discomfort. Victor kept averting his eyes from Yakov's penetrating gaze. There was so much Victor wanted to say; so much he regretted, but it wouldn't matter if he shared these feelings or not because it wouldn't change anything that had happened. It wouldn't change the reality that Victor would never skate again.

Another thoughtful hum. "Are you happy?"

Victor's gaze returned to the ice to watch Yuri trace figures as the others skated around her as if she wasn't there. In that moment, the loneliness exhibited by his wife made Victor's heart clench in empathy. He understood this soul crushing emotion along with the accompanying misery. He hoped that giving Yuri this opportunity would allay some of his own melancholy he had foisted on her and made her responsible for. Victor felt his own emotions and disappointments were burdens he should carry on his own.

"I have to be."

"If you or your family interfere with her skating, I'll never forgive you. I mean it this time when I say that you will never be allowed to come back. I won't let them steal another promising skater from me. Is that understood?"

For the first time, Victor could confidently say that Yuri was genuinely happy. The next morning, she greeted him with a smile that made her eyes sparkle and his heart pound loud enough that he could hear his blood rushing in his ears. She presented him with a plate of food as he sat down at the table.

"Good morning," her voice was lilting as she spoke in Russian.

Victor's surprise was deep. He hadn't expected to hear her talk in his native language since he had acclimated to conversing in English around her. The fluidity of her words and the pronunciations had improved since the last time he had heard her speak Russian.

"Good morning. I...wasn't expecting you up so early on a Monday," he replied in Russian.

Yuri took a moment to process the rapidly delivered response and then nodded when she understood. "Yes. I'm going for a run before I attend practice."

"Ah. You seem happy."

Yuri sat at the table, a light blush beginning to color her cheeks. "I am...thanks to you."

Victor felt slightly jealous that Yuri was getting the chance to live the life that Victor had always wanted. He had dreamed of becoming an elite athlete and being able to sustain himself on his earnings from winning international competitions, endorsements, and sponsorships. Yakov had believed that Victor was capable of reaching that level of performance. But I had to throw it all away, he thought bitterly.

"Look, I thought you were beautiful yesterday but Yakov is going to change your program. I agree...it's not a competitive piece...more like an exhibition."

Yuri's eyes glazed over in panic as she attempted to translate what Victor had said. Victor sighed, still feeling a bit mean spirited due to his jealousy, and he repeated what he had said in English. Yuri's cheeks turned a darker shade of pink, and her eyes turned downward.

"I know I didn't skate my best. I didn't land my jumps cleanly at all, and I lost it on my triple axel. I can do that jump! It's just...I got nervous and..."

"Don't worry...Yakov will find something better for you to make you stand out. I'm sure you'll qualify for the next Grand Prix and win gold." Victor's tone was dismissive.

Yuri just chuckled nervously as she pushed the food around on her plate with a fork. She then abruptly stood and cleared her plate from the table. "Sorry...I'm going to get going now."

Victor watched as she left in a hurry, and he wondered why she was suddenly so awkward. He couldn't think of a cause and with a shrug, turned his attention to his breakfast. He thought the weekend went well, and he was content with the way things were going with his relationship with Yuri. He decided his favorite part of the whole weekend was the time they spent on the couch with Yuri curled up in his arms. It had provided him a small snapshot of what life could be like if they could learn to trust each other.

In fact, Victor was going to determine that the entire weekend was a success. He was going to ignore the dredging up of old emotions from returning to the rink because it was easier at this time to ignore the fact that's there was so much regret tied to his skating career. Being in the building and speaking with Yakov made Victor realize just how much the bitterness had grown, and it was overwhelming to try to face it as it loomed large like a malevolent shadow. Thinking about this dark time in his life reminded Victor that he would be seeing his father today, who would more than likely bring up Victor's refusal to go to the office on Saturday.

"Shit...he's going to be livid," Victor mumbled.

He sighed in frustration as he got up from the table and put on a pea coat. The drive to the office was silent as Victor thought about how the morning would play out for him. All he knew was that no matter what happened, he was going to be the target of Evgeni's wrath. When he arrived, he deposited his pea coat in his office before making the short trek to his father's.

Sure enough, Evgeni's mood was sour. The glower on his face could be seen clear across the room, making Victor tense every muscle in defense. Victor took his customary place in front of the desk, waiting for his father's nasty words. Silence enveloped them both as Evgeni continued to stare down his son.

It was as if Evgeni was using the oppressive quiet to intimidate his son - leaving him in a limbo to fret over whether or not he would rage or if the weekend's slight would be ignored. Victor knew he was going to be scolded, and the waiting game he was being forced to play right now just increased his aggravation.

"Perhaps...we had you marry too soon. It's becoming clear to me that she is nothing but a distraction to you," Evgeni finally stated. His voice was calm but there was an edge to it that hinted at the anger simmering just under the surface.

"A distraction from what, exactly?" Victor asked, his voice equally cool.

"The business!" Evgeni unleashed his fury. "Before she came along, you wouldn't have defied me like you did this weekend!"

Victor's lips curled into a sneer as he struggled to maintain his chill demeanor in an attempt to rile his father further. "Why do you insist on believing that she exerts such control over me?"

"Because your marriage is the only recent change you've had!" Evgeni took a deep breath in order to restore his composure. "So tell me, Victor...how does she do it?"

Victor crossed his arms and shifted his weight to one leg to adopt a casual stance. "What?"

"Control you. Does she suck your cock?"

Victor rolled his eyes. "How vulgar of you."

"An evasive answer usually indicates an affirmative."

"Surprisingly enough, father, I am the one that dictates the sexual relationships I have...not you." A brief pause. "Besides, you and mother were the ones who insisted I marry Yuri."

"Yes, well Asian women are supposed to be submissive," he grumbled.

Victor's response was a caustic laugh that drew a warning hum from his father. "You believed a stereotype? Your naïveté is astounding."

"I should've shut the whole thing down and just had you marry a quiet Russian girl! One that would know her place!"

Victor shifted in order to stand tall, his arms dropping at his side. "The fact still remains that you are the one making these decisions, not me. If anyone is to be blamed for my supposed disinterest in the business, it's you."

"You should be able to prioritize better!" Evgeni raged.

Victor scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Yes, of course. It'll always be my fault."

I give up, Victor thought bitterly. He turned and began walking away. He was stopped short by Evgeni's voice cutting through his thoughts.

"Any directives I give you about the business come above everything else...including your wife. I've already made her aware so she knows to encourage your compliance."

Victor whirled around to glare at Evgeni as he realized who Yuri was texting with on Saturday. "Don't meddle in my marriage."

Evgeni's smile was feral. "Then do as I say. The business comes first."

Victor returned to his office. Once he settled at his desk, he whipped out his phone and called Yuri in a panic. He had no idea what Evgeni had said, but he was sure it wasn't kind. As each ring went unanswered, Victor could feel his anxiety increasing. He heard a click and felt relief flood him until he received an earful of rapid Japanese. Shit...her voice mail.

A beep sounded, prompting Victor to leave a message in English. "Yuri...please call me as soon as you get this. It's important."

Victor was distracted the rest of the day, waiting for a return phone call. He supposed he could've texted but the conversation wasn't one he wanted to have over text. There was always the chance that someone else would obtain it somehow, and Victor wanted to keep all the family strife under wraps.

Five o'clock couldn't come soon enough. When the long-waited for hour finally arrived, Victor tore out of the building and drove as fast as he could without getting pulled over (not that any police officer would dare pull over a Nikiforov). He was impatient waiting for the elevator that would take him to his flat, and he burst through the front door to the surprise of Makkachin and Yuri.

Yuri was resting on the couch with her feet wrapped in a towel. Victor removed his pea coat and deposited it unceremoniously on the dining room table before approaching Yuri. His gaze landed on her feet.

"Are you okay?"

Yuri nodded. "It's been some time since I was on the ice. My feet ache. I just have some hot packs on them."

"Did you get my message?"

Yuri looked confused. "Um...no? I just got home and haven't checked my phone."

Victor rolled his eyes. "Please get in the habit of checking your phone."

"Sorry," she replied sheepishly.

"It's fine. Whatever. It's better this way anyway."

"What's wrong?" Yuri asked as she drew her feet up to allow Victor room to sit.

Victor took the unspoken invitation. "What did my father say to you on Saturday?"

Yuri looked like a deer caught in the headlights. "I..."

"It's okay," Victor soothed. "My father already told me he spoke to you about...what he thinks you're doing to me."

"He told me my duty was to support you in the business and that this comes above everything else...including our marriage."

Victor scoffed and shook his head as he clenched the fabric of his slacks tightly in his fisted hands. "Our marriage should be the most important thing." Though Victor wasn't going to admit out loud that a tiny part of him wanted to put Yuri first because it was the exact opposite of what his father wanted.

Yuri fiddled with the hem of her shirt, refusing to make eye contact with Victor. "But...the business is what allowed our marriage to happen. And you said that it would need to be successful for our union to matter."

Victor's mouth opened slightly in shock as he processed what Yuri was saying. Wait..."Are you defending him?" Victor accused out loud, his tone revealing his quickly rising temper. "Do you honestly believe that?"

"I don't want to!" Yuri protested, making eye contact.

"But you do," Victor replied in monotone.

She reverted her gaze, curling into herself and wrapping her arms around her legs. "This weekend was so wonderful and made me question your father's assertion that our marriage was just a transaction and nothing more. He told me that's how you viewed it."

"He told you that?" Victor whispered, misery beginning to creep into his voice.

Yuri nodded, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears and unspoken fears. "I don't want it to be true."

Victor looked away, blinded by rage. The situation was worse than he thought. He swiftly rose from the couch and stormed to the bedroom. He knew he should go back and talk everything through with Yuri, but he was too furious to think clearly. His vision seemed to narrow and focus only on what was directly in front of him. He kicked the bedroom door shut and threw himself on the bed to continue to seethe.

He didn't know how long he lay there on his stomach with his face pressed into the mattress before his need for fresh air made him turn his head to the side. He realized he was hurting because he was beginning to care deeply for Yuri. The past few days made his fondness for her grow, and to hear that she may not believe his genuine effort to make everything work stung more than he anticipated.

The next thing he knew, Yuri was entering his field of vision. She settled herself on the bed sitting with her legs crisscrossed in front of her. Nothing was said between them for a few minutes.

"I'm not ungrateful for the weekend we had. It was the best one since we've been married, and I cherish it, especially since it brought me back to skating." Yuri took a deep breath and exhaled before continuing. "But...I can't forget that you didn't choose me."

"Why?"

"Because...because it reminds me how much harder I have to work for your regard."

Victor lifted his head off the mattress. "Why do you think so little of yourself?"

Yuri's eyes widened slightly. "I..."

Victor pushed himself up and then took a seated position. He eyed her carefully, watching her cheeks turn pink. He was drawn in by her vulnerability, and he leaned forward to close the distance between them. The movement made Yuri gasp. He realized that she needed reassurance from him, for him to refute his father's words because they only served to continue Yuri's narrative that she wasn't good enough to be his wife. And... he thought, I need to be more aware of how I treat her.

"Don't believe my father," Victor replied a little more forcefully than he intended. He then softened his tone. "He doesn't understand me and doesn't want to. The only thing that makes sense to him is the business and anything that is different is dismissed as useless or a waste of time. This is how he views marriage. I'm pretty sure he only married my mother to pour her large inheritance into the business and to produce an heir. It was a transaction. I never wanted my marriage to be like that."

"Me neither."

Victor smiled. He felt his heart begin to race as he began his next sentence. "Yuri, I..." he was about to say 'love you,' but he knew those words would be a lie. He didn't love her...not yet. He exhaled and started over. "I'm..." Aw hell...

Victor closed the gap between them and pressed his lips gently to hers. He could sense Yuri's shock through her non-response and body rigidity. She pulled away, making Victor open his eyes. He had never seen her so red.

"Did that bother you?" He murmured.

Yuri vigorously shook her head. "N-no! I just...wasn't ready. I mean! I mean...I wasn't expecting it."

Victor tucked a lock of her silky hair behind her ear. He then dragged his fingers lightly down her jawbone, eliciting a small tremor from her. His whole hand cupped her cheek, and without another word, Victor leaned forward and captured her lips once more with his own.

Yuri was much more responsive this time. He heard a breathy moan trickle out of her. The sound had an immediate effect on him, making him respond in kind to her with the same verbalization. He pressed harder, and Yuri opened her mouth to give him fuller access to her lips.

She tasted faintly of mint. She was soft and supple and much more receptive to his advances. She was clumsy in her movements - a few times their teeth collided, but Yuri picked up on a natural rhythm quickly that had them both chasing each kiss with another, letting euphoria consume them both.

Victor's hand slid from her cheek down to her shoulder and then down her side to finally come to rest at her waist. The curve he had followed was just what he liked, and it made him go hard at the thought that he was finally touching Yuri in such an intimate fashion and being allowed to explore her body.

As he deepened the kiss, Victor's other hand came to the other side of her waist and pulled her close. Victor tumbled backwards, breaking the kiss momentarily. He lost his grip on her waist as he landed on his back with Yuri seated in between his calves, and a part of him feared this would be the end of the intimacy. It wasn't.

Yuri crawled forward until her hands were on either side of his chest, settling her legs between his open ones. She began kissing him once more in earnest. Much to Victor's disappointment, her body remained above his with no contact, though he was sure he would lose any sense of control if she lay herself on him. In any case, she was driving him crazy with her insistent lips exploring his own, and he could feel himself coming apart and giving in to pure pleasurable sensation without rational thought.

He felt Yuri's breasts press against his own chest and her slender fingers slide through his fine hair. He groaned and bucked his hips upward for more contact, which made Yuri pull back. He let out a frustrated whine at the loss of her heat, and opened his eyes to find out what was going on.

Lustful Yuri was breathtaking. Her chest was heaving from exertion, her hair was slightly mussed, her cheeks were red, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were clouded with need. God...how did I get so lucky! Despite this, it was clear from her body language that she had become uncomfortable. He wondered how experienced she was in pleasures of the flesh and decided she didn't know enough since she had been startled by his growing erection.

"It's okay," Victor soothed. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to."

"Are you sure?" Her uncertainty was palpable.

Victor nodded despite his baser urges screaming at him to continue. "Yeah."

Yuri smiles as if a great weight was taken off her shoulders, and she crawled back to her former position. She placed a chaste kiss on his lips before shifting to her right and settling next to him, pressed against him. Victor wrapped an arm around her and placed a kiss on her head.