Page 118 of Konstantin
“Do you want the pain, Tessa? The pleasure?” His fingers slide down, inching beneath my dress. “Do you want to let go and give me everything?”
Maybe? Yes? God, stop making me feel so damn good.
He finds me bare beneath the silk of my dress, his fingers slipping between my thighs. My moan breaks free before I can swallow it, head falling back against the wall as he circles my clit with devastating slowness.
This is so unfair…
“I want to watch your skin turn red beneath my palm.” He pushes a finger inside me, and need swirls like a storm. “I want to watch my whip kiss your skin. Hear you beg for my cock. Beg me to fill your tight little cunt until it hurts. Until you’re ruined for anyone else.”
A second finger joins the first, and my body clenches around him, desperate and greedy.
“I want to test every one of your limits. Tear through them until there’s nothing left but animalistic need. Then give you more than you ever knew you needed. I want it all with you, Tessa. Only you.”
My hand flies to the back of his neck, dragging him to me like I’ll shatter if he doesn’t kiss me right now. He lets me take the lead, my mouth grazing his, exhales skimming over those lips I crave too much, and then I crash into him, rough and reckless, unable to stop the way I want him, like I can’t breathe without him.
This isn’t just lust. It’s ravenousness. Obsession-rivaling madness. The kind of craving that claws at the edge of sanity. The kind I always thought was fiction.
I’m so glad I was wrong.
Before I even realize what’s happening, we’re in the room, his hands hot against my skin, cupping my breasts with a possessive hunger that has me gasping. His fingers pinch my nipples hard enough to sting, and I welcome it.
I need the pain. Need the edge, the release. He knows that now. Knows exactly how far I’m willing to go.
Maybe I’ve lost my mind, but deep down, I know this desire is something I’ve always lived with. And right now, it feels like the only sane thing I’ve ever done.
His fingers slide down my back, finding the zipper of my dress, while the other hand reaches for the door.
“Leave it open,” I whisper, the command slipping past my lips without thinking.
He grins, a slow, satisfied smile, before his hands cup my cheeks, pulling me into his gaze. The tenderness of his touch catches me off guard, and before I can react, his lips brush mine with a slowness that drives me wild.
The kiss deepens, like he’s savoring something sacred. And in this moment, everything else fades—the noise, the confusion, the uncertainty of everything we are.
All I feel is him.
When he pulls back, his gaze lingers. Dark. Intense. Burning through me. As if he’s trying to memorize every part of me from theinside out.
And I let him. Because whatever this is, whatever we’re becoming, I don’t want it to stop.
“I need you to pick a safe word. If at any point you want it to end, all you have to do is say it.”
The thing he’s offering, control wrapped in consent, presses against my skin. Tension coils in the space between us as I consider it. Am I really doing this? Here? With him? In front of?—
Before I can fully grasp what’s happening, his hand is on my back again, fingers trailing down my spine as the zipper hums in the stillness of the room.
With every slow inch, my skin spreads with goose bumps as the straps slide from my shoulders, fabric slipping down my body. His gaze follows the movement, until the dress is pooled at my feet.
“Have you chosen your word yet?”
I nod. “Lioness.”
A small smile flickers across his face. Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me to the bench, each step heavy with the promise of what’s to come.
“Let me help you up.”
In one smooth motion, he lifts me, positioning my body with my knees bent, elbows resting on the cool leather, my chest pressed against the surface.
Vulnerability wraps around me like a second skin as he begins with my ankles, locking them in place before moving to my wrists.
