26. Konstantin
26
KONSTANTIN
“Put your arms above your head.”
Her thick, wavy chestnut hair shifts in the gentle breeze billowing through the window as she complies with my request. Usually, it’s straight as a pin, but sweat has given it some bounce and made it wilder.
Like Emily herself.
She’s so close that I can count her freckles and trace the constellation they make over her skin. Her scent—that intoxicating light honeysuckle and brown sugar—beckons me closer. All I want right now is to take her into my arms. To plant my kisses along her neck, her shoulders, her body.
Wicked desire curls in my belly, exiting my lips with each laboring breath.
Keep your composure , I tell myself. Before you fall so deep that you can’t back out.
“What are you waiting for?” she asks in a shaky voice.
Her delicate shoulders are so close.
I can bite them if I wanted to. Mark them.
Mine. Mine. Mine.
Her fingers curl and open at her hips, over and over. Her breasts rise upward with every pull of air. Once again, I’m distracted and my cock hardens in my pants.
Pushing my urges aside, I drape the dress over her head. Emily gasps when my hand brings the rest of the dress down around her hips. She pushes her knees together and shifts, as if trying to shield herself from me.
It’s not just her face that’s red anymore. Her upper chest is flushed as well. And the freckles on her skin darken.
“Hold still,” I breathe.
“I am.”
She isn’t. She keeps trembling, and her hips are swaying from side to side. My hands rest on them to steady her before I grab the button above her lower back, and feed it through its paired hole.
One by one, I work my way up her spine, closing her into the dress.
Emily’s breathing quickens when I brush the closure of her bra. I can kiss her shoulder if I want to, and I fucking want to.
But I resist.
“Hmm,” I hum.
“What?” She whispers.
“I don’t remember you ever being this quiet.”
Her shoulder blades pinch together. I can’t see her face, and I wonder what she’s thinking. If her body is telling the truth, she’s spellbound by my touch. I stare at the back of her ear, recalling the light bite I left on it earlier today.
I want a repeat as much as she does.
That much is for certain.
But I can’t. It’s already hard enough for me to tear myself away from her. It’s already hard enough to keep lying that I’m doing more than just using her.
I’m doing something far more dangerous.
Something that even I don’t dare to give shape to, even in my thoughts.
Something that Sima warned me about the moment I brought Emily onto the plane.
Tucking the final button into place, my fingers trace over the soft material, marveling where it creates an upside-down heart on her back.
“Done.”
She shivers down to her toes from my touch. “How do I look?”
Holding her hips, I turn her around. When she’s final facing me, the world seems to fall away from around me.
She looks absolutely stunning.
The breeze rises again, and sends strands of her hair spiraling. Before I can help myself, I wind her hair in my fingers to brush it aside, exposing her naked shoulders and long neck.
“Well?” she asks.
The dress clings to her waist, enhancing her hips, giving them a rounder look. It covers her breasts but leaves a tantalizing gap of cleavage. The watery material clings to her curves, accentuating her beauty. My hands glide down her hourglass figure.
Her eyes widen as mine darken with lust.
“You are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.” Slowly, I guide her over to the full-length mirror so that she can see us in there.
Chewing her lower lip, she stares at our reflection and rests her hands on my wrists to brace herself to me until we're locked together. “You have good taste.”
I smile. “I chose you, after all.”
She stiffens. Like butterflies in a storm, her hands flee mine and she walks away from my grasp, stroking her dress. Her cheeks glow pink and she does everything she can to avoid my eyes.
And in that moment, both of us know.
This arrangement of ours.
This impending fake marriage.
All of it suddenly risks becoming very real.