Konstantin didn't try to comfort me; he knew they were triumphant tears. Tears of freedom. The result of invisible shackles shattering. He just listened to me sing, his expression rapturous as I slowly rose and fell upon him. His adoring stare held mine as my voice climbed to heights it had never been before, banishing the sorrow that had been shadowing me my entire life. My magic rushed forth with the tide of emotions, lifting my hair in undulating waves. And when my tears dried and my song reached its crescendo, Konstantin sat up and cradled me through it.
When my last note faded, I kissed him. I kissed him with more feeling than I was ready to put into words. But he knew that too. He took it from me. My joy and more. And he gave me back those emotions tenfold, worshiping me as promised. Lips tender, hands sweeping, cock still inside me, undemanding.
Then Kon laid me down, hooked my legs around his hips, and made love to me. Slowly. Tenderly.Thoroughly. And as he did, I learned the difference between real affection and the falsehoods Niko had been feeding me. Even when the King had tried to show me love, he had fallen far short of what Kon was giving me effortlessly.
It was all a lie. I had never loved before, never lost that love. Because I had never truly connected with Niko. I had fallen for the Swan King, but that wasn't Nikolay, only a role he played. I was beginning to think that was all he was—a collection of characters. The Merciful King. The Cruel Punisher. The Erotic Lover. The Demanding Master. The Father Figure. Who was the real Nikolay Lebedev? If I couldn't answer that, I couldn't possibly have loved him. And he certainly didn't love me, not then and not now.
The only type of worship I knew with Nikolay, was when I bent to his will. It was enslavement. Fear-driven. I didn't know that someone could be worshiped like this. Not as a king or god, but as a lover. As a treasured partner. Equals could worship each other like Kon and I were, without either feeling lesser for it.
And that was another revelation. That no one had to be submissive in love or lovemaking. That even oral sex could be done without losing your power. That, in fact, power wasn't necessary at all. This wasn't a battle, it was pleasure.
And I intended to take every drop of ecstasy I could squeeze out of Konstantin Garin.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“I've never experienced anything as beautiful or erotic as you singing astride me,” Konstantin said.
He had me tucked in against his side, our coats draped around our naked bodies and legs entwined. I had never felt so comfortable after sex. So glorious.
“That was my first time,” I whispered.
“Singing while having sex?”
“Making love.”
Konstantin went still.
I closed my eyes in regret. I'd gone too fast. I wasn't skilled at this. Didn't know what to say. I guess I shouldn't have used the word love even if it was in reference to a style of sex. I'd heard that men could get skittish when you used the word. I'd thought Konstantin would be different, I thought he wanted such words, but these were uncharted waters for me. In short, I didn't know what the fuck I was doing.
I lifted my head to look at him. “That wasn't a declaration. I only meant that—”
“I know what you meant.” Kon stopped me with a hand on my cheek. “And it both saddens and infuriates me that it's true. You should always be made love to, Misha. Even when you're being fucked wildly, it should be with a lover, not a sex partner. And certainly not someone who abuses you. You're too precious for that shit.”
I sat up, pulling my knees to my chest. Kon followed me, his hands going to the tangles in my hair. He silently combed through them with his fingers, then gathered my hair into a thick hank. With a twist, he set it over my shoulder—gave it to me instead of using it to control me. The casual motions put me at ease, and by the time he shifted to sit behind me, cradling me within his thighs, I was relaxed again.
Konstantin wrapped his arms around me and nuzzled his cheek against mine. “You know I'm in love with you, right?”
Air left me in a rush, and I turned to look at him. To go from being worried that I'd gone too fast to hearing that declaration from him, sent me free-falling into confusion. “Kon, I don't even know if—”
“Shh.” He kissed me, just a brush of lips over mine. “I know, Misha. I don't need you to say the words.”
“No, you don't understand. I thought I loved him once, but he destroyed it, whatever it was. I'm not sure if I can love anymore. I'm not even sure I know what love is.”
“I know it seems that way now, but I promise you, it will get better. Your heart will heal and then you'll be able to love me.”
“Still so confident.” I made a face at him.
Konstantin chuckled. “Misha, you just cried as you sang me a love song, all while making love to me. I think I have a right to be confident.”
I turned and nestled in against his chest. “I don't love you, Konstantin, but I do care for you deeply, and you've given me hope that one day, my feelings will become love.”
“That's enough for me, swanling.” He kissed my forehead. “Now, I hate to say this, but we should probably get back to the castle.”
“No. The storm is still raging; we could be stuck in the village as far as anyone knows. Let's stay here a little longer.”
“Well, we do still have our lunch to eat.” He eased back and retrieved the satchel from the floor.
I turned to face him, smoothed out the blankets, and crossed my legs. As he unpacked the packages, I unwrapped them and set the food out between us. It would have felt ordinary if we hadn't been sitting there naked. But I was too happy, too comfortable to get dressed. I liked being able to be naked with someone without feeling vulnerable. To just share a meal with Kon. No pressure to perform. No requirement of my body other than to receive the food he had brought for us. And he seemed just as at ease.
