Page 108 of Konstantin

“How about you let my bride rest? That’s enough for tonight. Wouldn’t want people wondering where we’ve gone.”

He plucks the gun from my hand and slides it into his holster.

His palm presses gently against my back as we begin the walk back to the glowing lights of the reception. I glance over my shoulder at Iseult, her eyes still sharp and calculating.

They’re all watching me. The most dangerous people in the world.

Sooner or later, one of them is going to figure out who I really am.

And when they do, I won’t see the bullet coming.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

EMILIA

The soft glowof the moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a gentle light across the room. It’s late, the silence of the night wrapping around me like a blanket. The aftermath of the party still pulses through me, a mix of exhaustion and adrenaline that refuses to fade.

I stand in front of the dresser, applying lotion to my hands. The silk of the nightgown Konstantin bought for me feels smooth against my skin, its white sheen gliding over me like a whisper. The fabric clings to my curves, soft and delicate, and there’s something about the way it makes me feel: exposed, yet adored.

From the corner of my eye, I catch him in the reflection of the mirror, standing just behind me with nothing on but a pair of boxers riding low on his hips.

His presence fills the space, the air filled with intensity as his eyes trail over my body. He says nothing, just watches me, and in his gaze, there’sa mix of admiration and something more. Something feral.

“Did you have a nice time tonight?” He comes closer now, pressing into me from behind, his hands snaking over my arms.

The contact is comforting, but it also stirs something deep inside me.

“Yes,” I manage while I try to tame the way my body wants his. “It was a great party.”

A slight chuckle rumbles from him. “I know you enjoyed it.” His palm slides to my hip, fingers digging into my needy flesh. “But I think there’s something else on your mind.”

I let out a breathy moan, my head falling back against him, unable to control the shiver that runs through me. The way he touches me—the slow, deliberate way his hands explore my arms, my waist—it’s as if he’s trying to own every inch of me without saying a word.

And I let him. Every part of me wants to be owned by him.

His lips drop to my neck, warm and tender at first, then pressing harder, his teeth grazing my skin. A low growl vibrates in his throat, pulsing through me. Slowly, his hands slip up, the silk of my gown slithering up my legs.

“Konstantin...” My voice comes out in a whisper, a mixture of hesitation and longing.

“Shh,” he murmurs against my skin, his exhales hot and soothing. “Don’t worry, malyshka. I’ll take care of you.”

My arms rise as he slips the gown over my head, tossing it on the floor before his mouth finds the sensitive curve of my shoulder.

I turn slowly, and his eyes lock on to mine with an intensity that steals my every thought. He doesn’t speak, his gaze roving from my face down to the length of me.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, his timbre husky and rough. “It’s like I see you for the first time every time.”

His words sink deep, and I get lost in the way he looks at me, like I’m the only thing that matters in this world.

His hand skims up my back, pulling me toward him, and I can’t stop myself. My lips crash into his, hungry and desperate, a kiss that speaks everything I can’t say out loud. His grip tightens as he lifts me effortlessly, my body trembling with anticipation as he carries me to the bed and throws me onto it, his large form hard and heavy over mine. His mouth hovers over my lips, his cock rocking into me until a moan escapes.

“Tell me you want me. That you want us.” His desperation bleeds from every syllable, rocking through to my core.

“I do.” My hands cling to his bare back, to the warmth of his skin against mine. “I do want you, Konstantin. I want this.”

He groans, the sound rough and raspy, before his lips capture mine, fierce and hungry. His mouth moves down my body, leaving a searing trail of fire across my skin, while his hands roam, worshipping every crevice. When his tongue finally finds its way between my legs, I gasp, arching up toward him instinctively, wanting more.

“Oh God, yes.” My hands clutch his hair, nails working his scalp as he brings me to the brink of pleasure.