I don’t.
I don’t move.
Because somehow, in the silence he demanded, I realize exactly what I walked into.
And I’m not sure Iwantto walk out.
Present
Konstantin’s got me in his arms, one thick forearm hooked under my knees, the other clamped around my back, holding me like I weigh nothing. His grip’s tight, possessive—fingers digging into my skin through the silk gown, and I feel every flex of his bare chest against me, scars rough against the fabric.
My pulse jackhammers, caught between rage and this stupid, electric want I can’t shake. The bed’s close now, a dark pool of silk in the dim light, and before I can catch my breath, he tosses me onto it.
I hit the sheets with a soft thud, air rushing out of me. The silk’s cool, slippery—slides against my thighs as the gown’s slit splits wider, flashing skin.
I scramble up on my elbows, glaring, but he’s already there, towering at the foot of the bed. A giant—broad shoulders, V-shaped torso, veins snaking down to where his pants hang low. His cock’s hard, straining the fabric, and damn it, my eyes snag there, heat flooding me despite myself.
“Spread your legs,” he says, voice a low rumble, slicing through the music.
My thighs lock shut, reflex kicking in. “No,” I mutter, but it’s flimsy, and he knows it. He steps closer, his shadow swallowing me.
“Spread them, Bella. Now.” It’s deeper this time, a growl that hooks into my spine.
My brain’s yelling “fight,” but my body’s folding—legs parting slow, trembling. The gown rides up, lace panties peeking out, and his gaze drops, heavy, pinning me. I’m wet already, soaked, and the way he smirks says he sees it.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, kneeling between my thighs.
His hands—big, rough—slide up my legs, pushing the silk to my hips. It bunches, cool against my skin, and I shiver, breath hitching.
“Here’s what’s happening next.” His fingers graze my panties’ edge, teasing. “I’m going to lick you. Slow. Deep. Until you scream my name.”
My hips jerk, traitorously eager, and he chuckles—low, dark.
“Then you’ll come on my tongue. Again. And again. Till you’re a mess.”
My mind’s a wreck—wanting to hate this, him, but I’m gripping the sheets, knuckles white, anticipation clawing me apart.
He tugs my panties down slowly, lace scraping my thighs. The air’s cold, sharp—I gasp, bare under his stare. His breath hits my skin, warm, too close, and then his mouth’s on me—lips brushing my clit, tongue dragging up my slit, deliberate, tasting.
“Fuuuck,” I moan, loud, back arching as he circles, sucks, unravels me.
The sheets twist in my fists, legs shaking, and I’m gone—lost to his mouth, his control. Konstantin’s tongue is relentless, flicking fast over my clit, then dragging slow and deliberate, tasting every shuddering inch of me.
My hips buck, grinding against his face, desperate for more as he pushes me toward the edge.
“Konstantin—” I gasp, voice breaking, but he doesn’t relent.
His hands clamp down on my thighs, pinning me wide open, and he sucks hard, pulling a raw scream from my throat.
My back arches off the bed, every nerve igniting, and suddenly, I’m shattering—coming apart in a way I’ve never felt before, my body burning hotter, wilder than it ever has in my lifetime.
I scream his name again, “Konstantin!”, the sound tearing out of me as I grind harder into his mouth, chasing every wave of pleasure that crashes through me. He keeps going, licking me through it, drawing out every last tremble until I’m a gasping, shaking wreck, completely undone.
He pulls back, lips slick and glistening, his dark eyes blazing with hunger.
Rising to his feet, he towers over me, and I can barely catch my breath as he hooks his thumbs into his pants and yanks them down. His cock springs free—thick, hard, veins pulsing along its length.
I stare, heat flooding me all over again at the sight of him, massive and ready.
