Chapter 34 #2
Konstantin walks toward me, slowly. Purposefully. Moonlight cuts along the lines of his bare chest, the faint scar near his collarbone, the ink that coils down one side. He’s only wearing dark boxers and a thin white shirt, and the sight of him undoes something inside me.
When he reaches the bed, he kneels beside it, brushing his fingers over my ankle, then my knee. His hand is warm, calloused, reverent. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
“I think I do,” I whisper, sitting up to meet him.
He leans in, kissing me slow, deep. The kind of kiss that steals breath and replaces it with something hotter, more urgent. My hands find his shoulders, his jaw, pulling him closer until his weight covers mine. There’s nothing between us but fabric and a heartbeat.
“You’re mine,” he murmurs against my skin. “You’ve always been mine.”
His eyes hold mine in the dim glow, dark and smoldering, pulling me into him like a silent invitation.
I lean forward, unable to resist, until my mouth finds his again—hot, insistent, and claiming.
His lips part against mine, deepening the kiss until my head spins, until the world beyond us fades to nothing but the sound of our breathing and the feel of his heartbeat beneath my palm.
His hands slide over my waist, firm and warm through the thin fabric of my dress, tracing the curves he’s mapped so many times before. He tugs me closer, guiding me into his lap, the heat of him pressed intimately against my thighs. My fingers slip beneath his shirt, desperate to feel his skin.
“Let me see you,” he murmurs against my mouth, voice thick with desire.
He reaches down, gently lifting the dress over my head, letting it fall forgotten to the floor. Cool air brushes my skin, quickly replaced by his warm hands as they glide up my sides. His gaze drops to my bare skin, and a slow, appreciative smile curves his lips, sending heat pulsing through me.
“So beautiful,” he breathes, lowering his mouth to the soft swell of my breast. His tongue flicks gently against me, making me arch into him with a breathless gasp.
His hands find my hips, gripping tight, anchoring me as his lips trail kisses across my chest, teasing, tasting.
The warmth of his mouth closes over me, drawing me deeper into pleasure, igniting every nerve beneath my skin.
My hands clutch at his shoulders, fingers curling into his hair, holding him closer, needing more. I shift against him, urgency rising in the way my heartbeat quickens, in the way his breathing grows ragged against me.
“Your turn,” I whisper, fingertips tugging at the hem of his shirt.
He pulls back, eyes blazing, letting me lift the shirt away from his body.
His chest rises and falls with his breath, muscles taut and defined in the soft moonlight.
My gaze travels downward, drawn to every line, every scar.
He watches me carefully, almost vulnerable beneath the hunger in his stare.
I lean forward, pressing soft, deliberate kisses to his chest, tracing the hard planes of his body with lips and fingertips, feeling him shudder beneath me.
I straddle his hips, my body pressed flush to his, feeling the hard, undeniable evidence of his arousal between us. His hands roam over my thighs, sliding up to my waist, holding me close, guiding me as if he can’t bear even an inch of distance.
I lean down, kissing him slow and deep, letting my hair fall around our faces like a curtain, shutting out the world so there’s only us.
His hands slip up, cradling my breasts, his thumbs teasing over sensitive skin, making me moan into his mouth.
I can feel how much he wants me, how much he’s holding back just to let me set the pace.
When I break the kiss, I trail my lips down his neck, over his chest, savoring the shiver that runs through him.
I kiss down his neck, tasting the salt on his skin, feeling the shiver that runs through him when my lips find his chest, his stomach, the trail of soft hair leading lower.
He gasps, hands finding my hips, but this time I’m the one in control, exploring, learning every inch of him again.
My hands move lower, exploring the planes of his stomach, feeling him tense beneath my touch. His breath hitches as I slip further down, taking my time, enjoying every reaction, every sigh.
He pulls me back up, flips me gently, and suddenly it’s his mouth on my skin, his hands urging my legs apart.
The heat between us is almost unbearable as I lower myself onto the bed beside him, the soft sheets cool against my bare skin but nothing compared to the fire that races through my veins.
Konstantin’s eyes meet mine, dark and filled with longing, and I lean into him, capturing his mouth with mine once again.
His hands find my hips, steadying me as I shift closer, feeling the hard length of him pressing beneath my thigh.
My fingers trail lightly over his chest, trembling slightly with anticipation.
I slide my hand down, wrapping around his cock, warm and taut, and give it a slow, deliberate squeeze that makes him groan into my mouth.
I part from his lips, breath hitching, and let my tongue trail over the column of his neck, tasting the salt of his skin.
Konstantin’s hands roam lower, slipping beneath my body, fingers teasing the curve of my waist before moving between my legs.
He finds my clit, already swollen and sensitive, and brushes it lightly, sending a shiver up my spine.
Konstantin’s hands slide up my thighs, his grip both gentle and commanding.
I straddle his hips, feeling his cock hot and insistent against my skin, my own breath coming faster with every brush of his fingertips.
His eyes lock on mine, and for a moment neither of us moves, just breathing each other in, letting the tension wind tighter.
Then, with a swift movement, he wraps his arms around me and rolls, reversing our positions. My back is on the bed, his weight pressing me safely into the mattress. I gasp, surprised and thrilled by the shift in power. He grins down at me, a flash of mischief and hunger.
He takes his time. His hands smooth over my waist, spreading my legs wider, positioning me just how he wants me. His touch is confident, knowing. He leans in, pressing hot kisses along the inside of my thighs, pausing just above my clit. The anticipation coils inside me.
“Hold still for me,” he whispers, voice rough.
I grip the sheets, barely able to contain my shivering need as he settles between my thighs. His mouth finds me, tongue and lips working magic, every stroke igniting nerves I didn’t know I had. I moan, arching into his touch, every thought dissolving into raw sensation.
He devours me, relentless and worshipful, one hand sliding up to grip my hip while the other parts my thighs even further, holding me open for him.
When his tongue circles my clit, pressure building with each pass, my body trembles on the edge.
He knows exactly what I need, reading every gasp and plea.
But I don’t just want to be taken. I want to give as much as I get.
I lean forward, reaching down to wrap my fingers around his cock, already hard and throbbing for me.
I lower my mouth, tongue teasing the sensitive tip before taking him deeper, savoring his taste and the way he groans into my body when I do.
My head bobs up and down his length, savoring the weight and heat of him, the salt of his skin. My tongue circles him, teasing, worshipping, and his hands slide into my hair, his breath coming faster.
He groans, deep and raw, and it thrills me, the way he lets himself be undone for me, the way his control slips as I work him with my mouth and hand.
The world disappears until there’s only the slick, wet heat of his mouth, the fullness of him between my lips.
When I finally come, it’s with a shattering cry, my thighs clenching around his head, my lips sliding down his cock as my pleasure ripples through me.
He comes moments later, his body arching, his groan muffled against my skin. I swallow him down, every drop, feeling him fall apart for me just as I did for him.
For a moment, neither of us moves. We just look at each other, hearts thudding in sync. I see everything in his gaze, the wild devotion, the hunger, the weight of everything we’ve survived. He’s trembling, just a little.
He leans in and kisses me slow and deep, his lips reverent, his tongue gentle as it glides against mine.
My arms wrap around his neck, holding him there, needing to feel his weight, his heat, his solidity.
I hook a leg around his hip, guiding him closer, and the tip of his cock slides against me, slick and hot and insistent.
“Are you sure?” he whispers, voice rough.
I smile up at him, all barriers fallen away. “I want you. All of you. Always.”
He groans, low and desperate, and then he’s pushing inside me, filling me inch by inch, slowly, letting me feel every stretch, every shudder as he buries himself deep. I gasp, clutching at his shoulders, arching into him as my body welcomes him, opening to him as if it was made for this.
We move together, slow at first, the rhythm unhurried, savoring every second.
His hips press into mine, every thrust sending ripples of pleasure through my core, my cunt throbbing around his cock.
I cling to him, legs wrapped tight around his waist, nails digging into his back as the world contracts to the space between our bodies.
He cups my cheek, brushing his thumb over my lips, his eyes never leaving mine. I see him unravel, see the walls fall away until it’s just him—just Konstantin. Just the man I love, trembling above me, giving me everything he’s ever held back. He doesn’t have to say it. I know.
“I love you so much,” I moan.
He pauses for a few seconds, panting hard before he changes the angle, hips tilting, and I cry out as he hits the spot inside me that sends sparks shooting through my body.
He swallows my cries with another kiss, devouring me, loving me so fiercely it hurts in the best possible way.
Our bodies slap together, breath hot, skin slick, the sounds of our pleasure filling the room as the night wraps us up in its hush.
I feel him everywhere—his breath against my throat, his hand at my waist, his cock stretching me open and making me whole. My climax builds again, dizzying, and I grip his shoulders, desperate, meeting his thrusts, chasing the edge.
“Let go,” he whispers against my ear.
And I do. I break apart beneath him, pleasure crashing over me, body clenching around him as he follows, thrusts growing erratic, his voice rough and wild as he finds his own release.
He collapses onto me, bodies tangled, hearts pounding, sweat cooling on our skin. I cradle his head to my chest, fingers in his hair, and he holds me so tightly I know he’ll never let me go.
We lie tangled together in the aftermath, skin sticky with sweat, the sheets bunched around our hips, the air thick with salt and warmth and everything we haven’t said out loud until now.
My head rests on his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath my cheek, and his fingers trace slow, lazy circles on my back.
For a long while, neither of us speaks. We just breathe together, bodies humming with a softness that only comes after the storm.
“What do you want?” he asks eventually, voice low and warm in my hair.
I lift my head, meet his eyes. He looks so content, so open—it makes my chest ache. “What do you mean?”
“For the wedding. The ceremony. I’ll do the whole fanfare, if that’s what you want,” he says, smiling a little. “Church, flowers, a thousand guests. The works.”
I laugh, brushing my fingers across his jaw. “I don’t want much,” I say honestly. “I want the actual wedding to be private. But a dinner would be nice. Before the wedding.”
“A dinner?”
I nod. “Not a big thing. Just…everyone we care about in one room. Food, music, maybe a few awkward toasts. You know.”
He smiles at that, reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. “Then we’ll do a dinner. The awkward toasts are nonnegotiable, though.”
I grin, pressing a kiss to his collarbone. “And then after, I can’t wait to elope with you.”
“Is that something you want?”
I nod. “Yeah, it would be good. Mila and Nikolai can stay with Irina and Lev. We’ll just be gone for a few days.”
There’s a moment of quiet again, but I can feel something shift in him, something still heavy beneath the surface. I take a breath, then ask, “Do you want to invite your father?”
He doesn’t answer right away. I feel the subtle tension creep into his muscles, the way his fingers go still against my skin. He exhales, long and slow.
“Wouldn’t be the worst idea,” he says finally.
I study his face, the hard line of his jaw, the way his gaze drifts toward the ceiling like he’s trying to puzzle out a future he never thought he’d be part of.
“He gave his blood for our son,” I murmur. “That means something.”
“Yeah,” Konstantin says quietly. “It does.”
The last few months have been weird. Alexei has dropped by a couple of times to check in. On more occasions than once, I’ve found him reading to Nikolai. They have a special bond.
“I’m sure Nikolai will be happy if Alexei comes.”
“Yes,” Konstantin says distractedly. “They’ve been really bonding lately.”
He wraps his arm tighter around me and kisses the top of my head. “Let’s invite him.”
I nod, resting my cheek back on his chest. He just kisses my forehead and pulls me tighter.
And for now, that’s enough.