Chapter 7 – Raelyn
The door opens, and Konstantin walks back in with the clothes.
I’m standing in front of the bathroom, exactly where I’ve been for the past five minutes, staring at the handle like it might vanish if I look away. I wasn’t sure he would come back. I told myself not to care. I failed at that almost immediately.
Something tight and sharp unfurls inside my chest when I see him.
I don’t name the feeling. I don’t examine it. I don’t give it space to grow teeth.
He crosses the room in silence and sets the folded clothes on the bed—dark gray shirt, black sweatpants. Simple. Thoughtful. Infuriating. He doesn’t look at me while he does it, and somehow that makes everything worse.
My lips still tingle.
The kiss replays in my mind without my permission—soft at first, hesitant, like he was testing a line neither of us had agreed to cross. Then deeper, rougher, charged with something raw and unspoken. And then soft again, as if he’d pulled himself back at the last possible second.
I hate that I want it.
I hate that a part of me wants more.
I don’t have much experience with this—any of it. I’ve kissed before. Once. I let one boy touch me over my clothes, clumsy and eager and nervous, and panic had slammed into me so hard I’d nearly cried. I’d pulled away and never looked back. Fear had drowned everything else.
But this—this is different.
Now, as I watch Konstantin turn toward the door, already preparing to leave, my body reacts before my mind can catch up. My pulse quickens. My skin feels too tight, too aware. There’s a strange, aching pull low in my stomach that makes me inhale sharply.
I say it before I can stop myself.
“Wait.”
He freezes, hand on the knob, his back to me. The pause is absolute, like the whole room has gone still with him.
My pulse roars in my ears.
I hurry to the bed and grab the clothes, pulling them on with clumsy fingers. Fabric slides over skin that feels too sensitive, too awake. I clear my throat, needing the sound to anchor me.
Slowly, Konstantin turns.
Our gazes collide.
He doesn’t mask it in time—the flare in his eyes, sharp and bright, like something struck steel inside him. I sit on the edge of the bed, still holding his gaze, my spine straight, even though my hands tremble in my lap.
I swallow.
Then I say the words I never thought I would. Never planned. Never wanted to need.
“I need you.”
The room seems to contract around us.
For a moment, he just stares at me. Not moving. Not speaking. Like he’s deciding whether this is a trap, a mistake, or a line that can’t be uncrossed.
Then he steps toward me.
Slowly.
Deliberately.
Not like a man taking what he wants, but like someone giving me time to take it back.
He stops beside the bed and sits down, leaving a careful inch of space between us. Our shoulders brush anyway.
The contact is accidental.
The jolt is not.
My breath catches. His jaw tightens. I feel the heat of him, the restrained tension humming beneath his stillness, like a storm held behind glass.
“Raelyn,” he says quietly, my name weighted, grounded. “Do you know what you’re asking?”
I nod, even though my chest aches and my fear coils tight.
“Look at me.”
I meet his gaze, and slowly the space between us dissolves. His hands sink into my hair, his fingers threading through the strands to find a firm grip, and he pulls me to him. Konstantin slams his mouth over mine in a searing kiss that obliterates the last of the silence.
The restraint he was holding onto snaps like a frayed wire. This isn’t the soft peck from a moment ago; this is a collision. His tongue sweeps against mine, tasting the salt of my skin and the heat of my desire, and I melt into the mattress under the sudden, heavy weight of his body.
A low, broken sound vibrates in my throat, and it’s the spark that sets the rest of him on fire.
He moves his hand from my hair, sliding it down to the small of my back to arch me up against him, needing to feel the curve of my body against every hard line of his.
The world outside—the danger, the risks, those shadows following us—it all burns away until there is nothing left but the friction of our skin and the desperate, rhythmic pulse of finally being found.
I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer, deeper, as if I can fuse us together. Konstantin groans into my mouth, a raw, jagged sound that tells me he’s just as lost as I am.
I break the kiss, my lungs burning as I pull back just far enough to speak. The air between us is electric, vibrating with everything we’re about to do. I look at him, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird.
“I’ve never done this before,” I whisper.
Konstantin frowns, his hands still threaded deeply through my hair, his knuckles brushing against my scalp. “Done what?”
I cast my gaze down, unable to hold his intensity. The silk of the sheets feels cool against my heated skin, a sharp contrast to the fire he’s started. “Sex,” I breathe out, the word feeling heavy and fragile all at once.
He doesn’t let me hide. Using the strands of my hair, he applies just enough pressure to tilt my head back, forcing me to meet his storm-gray eyes. They are turbulent, swirling with a dark, unreadable emotion.
“Are you a virgin?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, gravelly vibration.
I nod.
Konstantin freezes. His breath hitches, held tight in his chest, and his eyes sharpen with something fierce, possessive, and almost reverent. The air in the room feels still, as if the gravity has shifted.
“Are you sure you want this, Raelyn?” he asks, his voice thick.
I nod again, my cheeks flushed, my voice soft with a vulnerability that leaves me completely exposed. I don’t say the words directly, but the truth is vibrating between us: I want him.
Not because of the marriage contract, not because of the fear that usually follows his name, but because I am drawn to him. I am pulled toward the quiet storm beneath his calm exterior, and for tonight, I want to be right in the center of it.
He kisses me again, slowly this time. The jagged edge of his hunger has smoothed out into a focused, deliberate gentleness as he guides me back onto the mattress.
His hands roam my body over the cotton shirt with a lightness that makes my breath hitch—he treats me like something precious, something he is terrified he might damage if he presses too hard.
He worships every inch of my skin with those careful hands, his touch murmuring a praise that doesn’t need words.
The cold detachment that usually defines him, that icy wall he keeps between himself and the world, is completely gone.
In its place is a terrifyingly beautiful control, tempered with an emotion I don’t know how to handle. It’s too big, too heavy to name.
I’m filled with wonder, a dizzying nervousness, and an overwhelming rush of sensation.
As he leans down to press a lingering kiss to the pulse point at my throat, I feel a trembling trust take root in my chest. For the first time, the fear isn’t about what he might do to me, but about how much of myself I am willing to let him see.
I reach up, my fingers shaking as I trace the line of his shoulders, silently urging him to bridge the last of the distance between us.
For someone who is usually afraid of sex, I’m being pretty bold, and it’s because I trust Konstantin. My stupid self trusts him.
His hands find the hem of my shirt, his fingers brushing against my stomach with a lightness that makes me shiver.
He pauses, his storm-gray eyes searching mine, waiting for a signal I don’t even have to speak.
I lift my arms slightly, and he slides the cotton up and over my head, discarding it as if it’s the only thing standing between him and his salvation.
The cool air hits my skin for only a second before the heat of his gaze replaces it. He leans down, his lips ghosting over my collarbone.
“You’re so beautiful, Raelyn,” he whispers, his voice a low, gravelly vibration against my skin. “I’ve spent weeks wondering if you’d look like this—like a masterpiece I don’t deserve to touch.”
He moves lower, his breath hot against the curve of my breast. His tone shifts, the tenderness mixing with a dark, velvet edge that makes my toes curl.
“Every inch of you is mine now. Do you understand? I’m going to be so careful with you, moya malen’kaya, but I’m going to taste every bit of this perfection. ”
He kisses the hollow of my stomach, his hands sliding up to cup me, his thumbs grazing me through the lace of my bra. “I’m going to make you feel everything. I’m going to ruin you for anyone else, and I’m going to take my time doing it.”
The contrast of his reverent touch and those raw, possessive words sends a fresh wave of heat through me. I’m trembling, my hands finding his shoulders to anchor myself as he continues his slow, worshipful descent.
His hands never leave my skin for long, as if he’s afraid I might vanish if he stops touching me. He reaches for the clasp of my bra, his movements steady despite the visible tension in his jaw. When the lace falls away, he lets out a jagged breath, his eyes darkening as they sweep over me.
“Perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with a mix of awe and hunger. “Absolutely perfect.”
He moves to the waistband of my sweatpants, his thumbs hooking into the soft fabric. He pauses, looking up at me with that dark gaze, giving me one last chance to look away. I don’t. I hold his stare, my heart hammering a frantic rhythm against my ribs.
Slowly, he slides the fabric down my legs, followed by the thin silk of my panties.
He tosses them aside, and for the first time, I am completely bare before him.
The vulnerability is staggering, a cold shiver running through me, but it’s immediately chased away by the heat of his hands as they slide back up my thighs.