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Konstantin turns his head. “What do you think, Elyah? Should I fuck Lilia Aranova?”

He pushes two fingers slowly into my mouth, and I suck them.

Elyah breathes in sharply, his eyes pinned to the sight. “I have already told you that you having sex with Lilia is terrible idea.” There’s a long, crackling pause, and he says in a roughened voice, “So terrible I cannot stop thinking about watching you push her down over that desk and fucking her hard.”

A hot pulse shoots through me at the heat and longing in Elyah’s voice. Seeing me with hisPakhanisn’t tripping Elyah’s jealousy switch. In fact, it seems to be doing the opposite. I get a sudden mental image of Elyah leaning over me and rubbing my clit while Konstantin thrusts into me, and all the while Elyah is murmuring soft, filthy words in my ear.

Do you love the way he fucks you,solnyshko? Are you our sweet little slut? We are all going to fuck you, and fill your pretty holes with cum.

I moan against Konstantin’s fingers in my mouth. That shouldn’t be so arousing. He drags his fingers from my lips and cups my jaw, looking deep into my eyes. “If you want this, you have to do something for me.”

The word drops from my lips on a breath. “Anything.”

His smile widens and becomes pointed, and I’m reminded of a wolf again. “Aren’t you a good girl all of a sudden. Who knew you had it in you?”

I didn’t know that it felt so good to be obliging, either. Suddenly, all I want to do is whatever this man tells me and hear him whisper words of praise and give me loving touches. It’s not going to be nice what he asks of me, but I crave to do it anyway.

Konstantin drops the light, teasing tone and he orders savagely, “Arms behind your back. Hold on to your elbows.”

I do as I’m told, thrusting my breasts forward and arching my back so I can grasp my elbows.

His heated gaze runs over my body. “If you drop out of that pose before I say you can, Kirill is going to beat you. Do you understand?”

I glance at Kirill, who is sitting just feet away along the desk, grinning darkly. “Please disobey him,neordinarnaya. You and I are so good together.”

“We’ll see how far I can push her, my friend,” Konstantin says, digging in his trouser pocket. “You may get your wish. I’ve been saving these for someone special.”

There are two small metal objects nestled in the palm of his hand on a bed of fine silver chain. They’re definitely not his cufflinks. They look like miniature tongs or clamps, and I don’t understand what they’re for until Konstantin reaches out and plucks one of my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

While I watch, filled with anticipation and a spice of fear, he attaches a clamp to one nipple, and a second to my other nipple. The chain dangles between them, lightly skimming my flesh.

“How does that feel?” Konstantin murmurs, admiring my pinched flesh, which is white and bloodless in some places and angry red in others.

“Tight,” I breathe. Almost painful, and I think the pain might increase the longer I wear these things. But I can endure this. I lift my chin proudly. I’ve endured far worse.

“Good.” Konstantin reaches into his other pocket and pulls out two small square objects. Metal and shiny, and they clink softly together. He hooks one to a clamp and it drags on my flesh, sending a flare of pain through me.

“Wait, I—”

Konstantin hooks the second weight to my other nipple and raises his half-obliterated eyebrow at me. This scarred man is daring me to complain about a little bloodless pain. I grit my teeth together and whimper in the back of my throat, and then close my lips. Pain is meaningless. Pain is nothing but a signal in my brain.

I feel no fear.

When Konstantin sees that I’ve resolved to endure this torment, he settles back in his chair to watch. I count with each breath, four seconds in, four seconds out. The seconds and minutes drag by. I start to sweat. My teeth clench so tightly that my jaw aches.

Kirill fishes beneath the table and comes up with a bottle of vodka. He twists off the red cap with a crack that breaks the seal and takes a healthy swig.

I watch his muscular throat moving, beads of sweat on my forehead. “Can I have some of that?”

We both glance at Konstantin, who says nothing. Finally, he nods.

Kirill slides along the table and then gets up on his knees and looms over me, his expression full of arrogance and gloating. He takes another swig of vodka, upending the bottle into his mouth. Toying with me. Showing me that he’s got something I want, and he’s not going to give it to me.

Then he jerks his chin with his mouth full, and I realize what he’s telling me to do. I lean my head back and open my lips. Kirill slides a possessive hand around my throat, wrenching my head back even farther, and spits a thin stream of vodka into my mouth. His aim is perfect, like he’s practiced his whole damn life for this moment. Warm vodka fills my mouth.

“Swallow,” he says roughly, playing with the chain that links my nipples.

I do as I’m told, drinking down the vodka in two long swallows. It burns my throat and sends a glow through my stomach.

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