27. Emily
27
EMILY
The smell of hay permeates the air, along with the wild notes of soil and nature and sweat. Some people might find it unpleasant, but not me, because I know exactly what it is.
The fragrance of horses.
“Are these all yours?” I whisper, unable to mute my envy. The stable is massive, containing enough stalls to comfortably house the thirty horses I can count.
“Yes.” Konstantin beams proudly at the animals. “My family has owned horses for as long as I can remember.”
“They’re beautiful.”
His smile broadens. “I take it you like horses.”
“They’re okay.” I shrug indifferently. Fuck yeah, I like horses.
“Do you have a favorite breed?”
“The Friesian.” I say it automatically, proceeding to blush as I give myself away. “Okay, fine, I love horses.”
Konstantin’s glance is warm as fresh bread. “That breed is actually—” he stops for a moment, his smile widening. “My favorite as well.”
We stare at the barn in a beat of awkward silence before I clear my throat. “Why are we here?”
“The wedding venue is best viewed on horseback.”
My blood ripples like bubbles in a glass of champagne. “We’re going to ride them?” Yes! Yes! Yes!
I haven’t been on horseback since that one time in college when I went to the rodeo with Nadia.
“How far are we from the venue?”
“About a twenty-minute ride.”
“There can’t possibly be enough horses here for everyone—not unless you’re only inviting a handful of people. How will others be getting to the venue?”
“Once you see it, you’ll understand.”
I push out my jaw. “Don’t you ever get sick of being so cryptic?”
Konstantin shakes his head with a laugh and starts heading toward the stables. I follow behind him, my annoyance washing away as we draw closer to the animals. They poke their heads out of their stalls, their big, intelligent eyes studying us.
A gorgeous brown-and-white Arabian snorts in my direction. “Hey there, buddy,” I coo.
“That’s Hamlet.”
“Hamlet, huh?” I offer my hand for the horse to sniff and he puffs out hot air onto my skin, flicking his ear. He nudges my palm, encouraging me to pet him across his muzzle.
I feel turn and see that Konstantin is staring at me intently.
“You’re good with him,” he notes.
“Thanks.”
“Did you own horses back in Wisconsin?”
I continue to pet Hamlet. “Nope.” We could never dream of affording horses.
His head tilts to one side. “Then how are you so experienced?”
“You’re not the only one allowed to keep secrets,” I say.
He doesn’t press me for more info. Instead, he gathers up the saddles for the horses and opens up two stable doors. I try not to bounce on my heels as I watch him lead Hamlet out towards me, and expertly buckles the saddle on his back.
Konstantin does the same with an Akhal-Teke with a coat that shimmers like molten gold, and then hoists himself smoothly up.
“This is Midas,” he says when he catches me staring. “My pride and joy.”
Gripping Hamlet’s saddle, I climb onto his muscular back. The animal grunts, flipping his head, but doesn’t struggle. I squeeze my thighs to hold myself firmly in place. It’s funny how natural this feels, I think.
“Ready?” he asks.
The reins slide through my grip. I give them a squeeze, checking how Hamlet reacts to that minor movement. He stamps his front hoof, inching forward—yes, he’s wonderfully responsive.
“Ready.”
Konstantin leads the way with Midas and I follow. The landscape curves up, like we’re leaving a bowl. I glance back over my shoulder at the lake as it gets further away. Memories of falling below the surface, and of waking up to Konstantin’s lips over mine.
“Keep up, Kitty Cat!” he shouts at me playfully, breaking me out of my reverie. “Don’t fall behind.”
He wants me to go faster, does he? Gritting my teeth, I dig my heels into Hamlet. The horse snorts, then trots faster until I come up beside Konstantin, smirking. “Is that better?”
“Does everything have to be a fight with you?”
“What fight?” I throw my hair back, enjoying the way his jaw clenches when he sees. “You said keep up. I’m keeping up.”
“Your attitude drips off you, Kitty Cat.”
That’s not the only thing dripping, I think hotly. But I don’t need to say it. Konstantin is choosing his words very deliberately.
“You’re imagining things.”
Facing forward, I smile while knowing he can’t see it. Ahead of me are random groves of cypress trees dotting the horizon. Together, they fill the air with their menthol fragrance. I slow down, inhaling with a sigh.
Midas nickers when he pulls up beside me.
“These groves are hundreds of years old,” Konstantin says. He waves an arm at the thick, conifer-like branches. “I spent hours here when I was younger.”
“Here?” I laugh dubiously. “Hard to imagine you running around in the woods.”
“I didn’t come here by choice. It was meant as a punishment.”
“I don’t understand.”
Konstantin stares up at the trees, but his gaze is far away, seeing something else. “Cypress oil is supposed to calm your soul. It relaxes you when you’re angry.”
“Sending you off to the trees … That’s one hell of a way to have a timeout.”
His tone shifts, taking on a crisper edge. “My grandmother had her methods.”
“Is this the grandmother that we need to convince?”
“The very same,” he nods. “Come.”
Staring at his tense shoulders as he rides in front of me away from the trees, I ponder what I learned. But once we crest over a hill and the trees disappear from view, I stop thinking about his childhood.
“Holy crap,” I gush.
We look down towards a deep valley. The rim of a massive trench is poised before me, the grass waving where it dangles into the air. Below us is a field of verdant green dotted by flowers in such a variety of colors I swear there are ones I’m seeing for the first time.
The sea licks at the outer edge of the valley, where it curves like a crescent around a flat section of stone. It’s a natural dais surrounded by curved rows of rock slabs that create benches for sitting. You can fit several hundred people here, and when I visualize marching down the aisle in front of them all, my stomach drops away.
Last night, when Konstantin put that dress on me, I know he felt the same thing I did.
That this fake marriage doesn’t feel as fake anymore.
I want to make myself not think about it. But it’s hard not too when I’m staring at the venue.
“There,” he says, pointing at a few areas where the grass has been leveled. “See the helicopter pads? The rest of the attendees who don’t come on horseback will arrive that way.”
“Not too many people can afford personal helicopters,” I sigh.
He arches a dense eyebrow. “You’ve seen where I live. Do you think my guests aren’t as wealthy?”
My stomach is back to wringing itself out.
Mom and Dad would go nuts for him if they ever find out about this.
“Great. Just … great.”
“Let’s get a closer look.” He taps Midas with his heels and clicks his tongue, heading over a slope that acts as a path into the valley. Hamlet follows behind, tugging at the reins in my hands as I try to make him stay at the rear.
When we reach the deepest section of the valley, Hamlet grunts, trotting in front of Konstantin. I laugh in surprise, enjoying how the horse canters in the flower patches.
Maybe it’s the way that riding has chafed my thighs. Or how the bouncing motion shifts my hips. But suddenly, I’m seized by a dangerously tempting idea.
A way to provoke Konstantin.
The idea springs into existence so suddenly my mind is one step behind my body. Digging my heels into Hamlet’s sides, I lean over the saddle, my face in his thick mane, and we take off .
“Emily!”
Ignoring his shout, I bend tighter against the horse’s body. Go! Go! Go! Wind rushes through my hair, making my eyes water, but I don’t shut them. I need to see where I’m going.
More importantly, I need to be able to go fast so that Konstantin will chase.
Hamlet snorts, his breathing loud and heavy as I push him to his limit. He shakes beneath me like I’m hugging an earthquake. Riding is the closest to flying I’ll ever get.
I’ve never felt so alive.
The steep rocks that let us into the valley click under the horse’s hooves as he climbs upward. A few bits of rocks break free, bouncing up to scratch my face. I ignore the pain. Nothing can touch me, and nothing matters except going faster.
Midas shrieks when he suddenly appears in my path, blocking Hamlet from galloping further. My horse balks, rearing up and retreating back into the grass-covered valley.
“Hamlet!” Konstantin’s voice rings out. “Stay.”
When Konstantin speaks, he obeys. Panting, the animal turns in place, trotting anxiously.
“C’mon!” I beg, flapping the reins with increasing desperation. “C’mon!”
Hamlet stomps the ground but stays where he is.
Of course he listens to Konstantin ... It’s his horse.
Konstantin dashes at me on Midas and grabs Hamlet’s bridle, murder in his eyes.
“Did you think I wouldn’t catch you, Kitty Cat?”
“Actually.” I smile at him. “I was counting on it.”
Dropping the reins, I throw myself over the saddle, and land hard on the grass. My knees are scraped, but the pain is muted by my adrenaline. Every vein is pounding along with my heart as I sprint through the valley.
Vaulting over the stone benches, I weave through more fields of flowers. Red petals scatter as I shove my way past the stems, bees zooming into the sky, startled by my presence.
Thudding hooves sound behind me, and suddenly I feel myself hoisted off the ground and thrown across the front of Konstantin’s saddle.
“Oof!” I grunt.
“Gotcha,” Konstantin snarls triumphantly.
I’m struggling on the saddle and he captures my wrist in one of his big hands. Pressing my arms against my back, he bends down and whispers in my ear.
“I know what you’re doing, Kitty Cat,” he says. “And as much as I love a good chase, you’ll have to do better than that.”
Writhing under him until my muscles grow sore, I let out a frustrated growl.
His hips shift, rolling against the side of my body. But he keeps my hands immobile, so that even though I can feel the heat between his powerful legs, there’s nothing more that I can do.
Then, as if to complete my humiliation, Konstantin grabs hold of my legs with his powerful hands and push them apart so that he can spins me onto the saddle until I’m seated upright again.
And completely covered in his embrace.
His legs are pressed tightly against the backs of my thighs, and his groin pushes into my ass.
I gasp as his cock starts hardening behind me.
Reaching around me, he takes my hands and puts them around the reins. The motion pushes his hard chest along my spine, enveloping me in his scent and searing me with his breath.
“If you want me to stop, Kitty Cat,” he whispers in my ear as he starts to nibble. “Just say so.”
I bite down my lips, and I can feel the smile curling on his lips.
His body rubs against mine more firmly and I swallow, fighting down an intense wave of lust that makes my thighs quake. In this position, I’m completely at his mercy. He can do whatever he wants to, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.
I close my eyes and lean back into his muscular body.
As we ride through the grass, the bouncing motion forces me to sway in the saddle. My ass rubs the front of Konstantin’s pants and I can feel him growing harder.
Oh … I clench my jaw as he presses a searing kiss at the base of my neck.
His arms close in on me, his biceps rubbing lightly over my shoulders, but inevitably, they drift towards my breasts. It’s subtle at first, the kind of movement that I might almost mistake for unintentional. But the way he licks up and down the side of my neck, the way his heavy breathing tickles my sensitive skin, and the way his cock is poking so insistently at the small of my back reminds me that he’s doing all of this on purpose.
My nipples grow sensitive as we continue. Heat blossoms, slipping through my body until it’s pools in my lower belly. Every time the horse rocks, my pussy rubs the saddle. Between this and Konstantin’s arms on my breasts, I’m growing slick between my legs.
“I can smell how wet you are, Kitty Cat.”
I sit up straighter, but this just makes my breasts rub harder against his arms. A whimper escapes me. “You’re imagining things.”
“Am I?” he asks softly. His hands holding the reins dip lower and he releases one, setting it on my right thigh. I gasp as his fingers dance their way along my inner thigh. “Are you calling me a liar, my greedy little cock slut?”
My pussy clenches in response.
“Let’s find out who’s telling the truth.”
He slides his hand right over the front of the thin material of my riding pants. The heat of his hand is overwhelming. When he presses his hand against my soaked pussy, I can hear my arousal squishing from his touch.
Heat flushes on my face, and my clit throbs.
But I want him to do more than touch.
Suddenly, he pulls away, and I gasp angrily.
I blush harder at how desperate I sound.
“Liar.” He chuckles darkly.
Eager to take control back, I edge my ass backward, and press myself against his erection. He hisses appreciatively in my ear as his other hand rises up to squeeze my breast, leaving me the only person holding and steering the horse. My pussy thrums wildly from the reaction I’m getting out of him.
“Is this what you want me to do?” His fingers glide over my pussy through my pants, pressing deliciously against my clit and drawing lazy circles that makes my thighs squeeze against the saddle. He traces my swollen lips, pushing the material inside, lightly at first, then harder.
“Konstantin,” I moan. “This is … this is dangerous … I can’t …”
“Can’t what, Kitty Cat?” He nips at my neck. “Keep us in a straight line?”
“Yes …” I admit.
All at once his fingers abandon my pussy. I groan through clenched teeth in anguish as my hips begin rocking against him again.
“Don’t worry.” He returns, but this time, he slips his entire hand down the front of my pants. “I won’t let you fall from here.”
I know he’s telling me the truth.
Pleasure that’s been building in me for some time continues to coil tighter. I’m trembling against his chest as he toys with my clit through my soaked panties.
“Oh …” I close my eyes as pleasure threatens to overwhelm me completely. “Oh fuck …”
He doesn’t reply. Brushing my panties aside, he slides a single thick finger inside of me. I squeal in response and reflexively grind against his hand. The sensation of being filled is glorious.
It leaves me disoriented and fuzzy. But all I want is his thick punishing cock splitting me in two, and I start to lose myself from the pleasure he’s drawing from me .
All I care about is release from the wet heat in my lower belly.
He’s going to make me explode.
“That’s it, Kitty Cat.”
His cock spears into my back. His hand slips under my shirt, and squeezes my breast so hard that it drives all breath out of me. He holds me against him like an instrument, and he the master musician who teases one long wailing note from me after another.
“You wanted me to chase you,” he purrs. “That’s why you started running, isn’t it?”
Yes …
Wet heat overtakes me as he clamps his mouth around the crook where my neck joins my collarbone and sucks greedily against the skin. Pain and pleasure mixes into a whirlwind inside of me as his finger starts pumping my pussy without mercy.
My hands tighten around the reins, holding onto the hard leather for purchase even as my hips begin to buck wildly against Konstantin’s.
“Did you think I was going to do something different when I caught you?”
I nod, another whimper escaping my lips as I do so.
“Tell me what you wanted me to do when I caught you.” A second finger joins the first, and I can’t hold back my moans anymore. “And be specific.”
“I …” It’s getting hard to talk now. “I wanted you to hold me down.”
“Mmm.” His hand slips under my bra and pinches at the sensitive bud of my nipple. My pussy quivers and drips in response to his thick fingers buried inside. “And then?”
“I wanted you to rip my clothes off.”
His powerful hand releases my nipple and pushes up until it encloses around my throat. My pulse thunders in my throat as he gives it a gentle squeeze, as if to remind me just how powerless I am in this position with my body pressed against his.
His to play with.
His to use to his heart’s content.
“And what happens after I rip your clothes off?” The hand between my legs overwhelms my swollen clit with its searing heat.
“Hold me down.” I tremble, closing my eyes to savor the way he’s setting my body on fire. “Until there’s nowhere for me to go.”
“Like this?”
“Yes, just like this,” I tell him. “And then …” I gasp as the hand around his neck moves back down to resume the attack on my other breast aching to be touched.
“And then what?” He presses his searing lips against my ears as both his hands begin moving faster, chasing away all sanity from my mind until I become exactly what he says I am—his slut. A slave to his cock and desires.
“Force my legs apart …”
“They’re already forced apart, Kitty Cat.”
My eyes fly open and I turn to stare into his darkening blue eyes. His lips are so close yet so far. All I want is to press mine against them.
I know what I’m about to say, but I’m afraid of saying it out loud.
Because if I do …
“Say it, Kitty Cat.” A third finger enters my pussy, and inhibition flies away like dusts on the wind. “What happens after I force your legs apart?”
“You’ll fuck me.”
“Be specific .” His fingers move even faster between my legs. “Be honest. And tell me exactly what you want me to do.”
I’ve never felt so powerless than this moment, unable to do anything other than to receive the endless pleasures of his hands, his tongue, and his mouth.
I’ve never felt so reckless.
I’ve never felt so good.
And with every passing second, with every racing heartbeat, the words swirling around my cock-hungry brain—the words that he demands slowly start to make their way to my lips. His tongue rasps the delicate skin along my neck while his fingers hook inside of me, as if he plans to drag my orgasms out of me.
But not until I confess.
The proximity to the edge of my own pleasure gives me that one final push I needed to say the truth …
“I want you to fuck me with that huge cock of yours.” I confess, whimpering. “I want you to stretch out my tiny slutty hole.” His fingers curl, and control starts to crack.
“I want you to make me scream.” A tiny flutter starts out deep inside of me. He pulls out a single finger and starts rubbing against my clit.
“I want you to make me beg and lose control while you do whatever you want to me.” I whisper on the edge of my sanity. I’m close … I’m so close … “And don’t you dare stop until you’ve ruined me.”
“Good girl.” He plants a searing kiss against my neck.
Oh God …
That’s when I shatter against him.
“FUCK!” I shriek, throwing my head against his shoulder. My pussy squeezes his fingers, my inner walls rippling as my toes clench and flex in my shoes.
I shudder with the wind blowing through my air and the scent of grass hanging in my nose. The searing heat of Konstantin’s breath lathers my skin.
His hand stays in my pants for a few more minutes as we ride through the top of my orgasm. And finally, when I’m done trembling against his hard body, he withdraws and shoves his soaked fingers into my mouth.
“Taste yourself,” he nibbles at my ear again. “Taste how fucking sweet your honesty is.”
I close my lips against his fingers and suck. The scent of my own arousal floods my mouth. My face is blazing hot, I can’t open my eyes even if I want to. A bead of sweat rolls down my face.
Although I’m still riding the aftershocks of my orgasm, I feel unsatisfied.
Unfilled.
Our little escapade apparently took us in the wrong direction, and it takes another half hour of riding before we get back on track. As we ride, I notice Hamlet is snorting, his head low as he walks unevenly.
“Hamlet is limping.” I point. “He’s bleeding!”
“There are stables at the venue.” Konstantin grips the reins with both hands to slow Midas down. “We can keep going.”
“When we get to the stable, he’ll need to have the wound washed and disinfected. Otherwise, it could fester. I’d also suggest cold therapy … An ice pack under his bandages to control inflammation.”
I can’t see his face because of how we’re sitting, but I feel him staring at me. “How do you know so much about horses?”
It would be easy to lie. Which is why I’m baffled when I decide not to.
“I went to vet school.”
“You’re a veterinarian?”
“Well, that was the plan. Not anymore.”
“Why did you stop?”
Searching for the right words, I run my fingers through Midas’s mane. “I didn’t have a choice.”
“Why not?”
“I—” I clench my jaw, hoping he won’t keep prying. I don’t want to have to tell him about what happened. About the expulsion. About Phil. If I do, it’ll make it so much harder to walk away from him.
Because it’s damn near hard enough to walk away as is.
“It’s personal. Let’s just leave it at that.”
To my relief, Konstantin doesn’t press further as we crest over the horizon. As we arrive at the stables at the venue, I notice that there are a few figures standing nearby.
“Who are they?”
Konstantin tenses up like every joint has become ice. A large, muscular man in a spotless black tailored suit approaches and lowers his head when he sees Konstantin.
“Konstantin Yurevich, Alla Antonovna is here to see you.”
My gaze follows Konstantin’s as he looks at someone standing behind a wall of men in suits, and right away, I know what they are.
Bodyguards.
I know exactly who’s waiting for us.
“Is that?” I ask.
“Yes.” His jaw works as if he’s chewing something terrible. “My grandmother.”