Page 126 of Konstantin

“How shall I do that?” My finger trails down from his chest, dragging slowly until it reaches the outline of his hard erection.

He stiffens under my touch, making a wicked thrill race through me.

“I’m sure you can come up with something.” His voice pulls with something low and rough, a growl barely hidden beneath the surface.

There’s that hunger again—the same hunger that pulls me in and forces me to give in, even when I know it will consume me. His eyes are on fire, dark with need, and for a moment, the world around us disappears. It’s just him. Just us.

I can’t escape the pull. And I don’t want to.

Before I can second-guess myself, I drop to my knees in front of him, holding his gaze without breaking it. My fingers go straight to his belt, his jaw tensing as I unbuckle it with teasing precision.

“Blyat,” he growls, his hand tangling in my hair like he’s already unraveling.

I tug the belt free, his zipper following. When my fingers strokeover him through the fabric, his cock jerks—hard, heavy, and barely restrained.

“How many times have you imagined this?” My lips graze the skin just above his waistband. “Me on my knees. Wanting to please you and suck you dry.”

He mutters something in Russian.

“Too many times to count, malyshka.” His voice is heavy with arousal as he brushes his knuckles along my jaw. “I’ve imagined your mouth wrapped around me, your eyes watering while you fight to take more. The way you’d sound while you struggled to make it fit, to breathe with every inch of my cock stuffed down your pretty throat. I’ve thought about the way I’d fuck you after, hard and fast, bent over this very pool table.”

His grip tightens in my hair, tipping my head back while his gaze devours mine, hunger and control swirling in every line of his face. “And most of all, I’ve imagined how good it would feel when you begged me to do it all over again.”

My core throbs, wanting all of that. When I yank his pants and boxers down, his thick hard-on springs to life.

My fingers wrap around him, barely able to meet, and when he shudders at my touch, a thrill of dominance pulses through me.I’mthe one who’s making the ruler of the underworld ache like that.

He watches my every move, eyes intense. Wanting, waiting for me to taste him.

I close the distance between us, my lips barely grazing his hardness, my gaze locked on his as my body hums with need. Seeing him like this, overcome with desire, makes everything burn hotter.

His body tenses as soon as the tip of my tongue traces the crown of his cock, a soft hiss escaping him. Fingers slip into my hair, pushing me down until I swallow him whole.

“Fuuuck!” A harsh, guttural growl escapes him as he keeps me trapped around him while I savor every inch.

His hand in my hair guides me deeper, but I don’t need it. I know exactly what I’m doing. His length hits the back of my throat, and when I gag, he groans.

“That’s it. Take it all, katyonak. Every inch of me is yours.”

My mouth tightens as I bob my head, his cock twitching against my tongue. My eyes stay fixed on him as he tilts his head back, his hand tangled in my hair, his body tense with power. He looks like a god in every sense of the word.

The taste and feeling of him fills my senses. The way he groans, the way he can’t stop himself from pushing his hard-on deeper. Every inch of him is a promise of things to come, and I’m not sure I can wait for it.

The faster I suck him, the tighter his fingers tangle in my hair, his control undoing with each flick of my tongue, each hollow of my cheeks around him.

He groans, low and guttural, the sound dragging desire straight through me. I lick along the length of him, slow at first, then faster—relentless, greedy. His hips jerk, and when I take every thick inch, he curses sharply in Russian, his whole body straining under the pressure until he spills down my throat, his grip tightening like he needs to anchor himself to reality.

He doesn’t pull away. He keeps me there, wrapped around him, until he’s given me every last drop. And even then, I want more. My lips are swollen, breath ragged, but I stay right there, licking along his crown, tasting every trace of him.

A deep rumble vibrates in his chest, and with a swift movement, he pulls me up, his grip stealing my breath before his lips smash into mine with a force that leaves me breathless.

This isn’t just a kiss. It’s a possession, wild and intense, driven by a desperate hunger.

His tongue meets mine, tasting himself, and it only drives him to kiss me harder. My hands clutch his bloodied shirt, gripping on to himas I begin to lose myself. His kiss overtakes me like he’s starving, like I’m the only thing that can sustain him, and I kiss him back with a depth I didn’t know I had, surrendering every part of myself.

My back slams against the pool table, and before I can even process it, he lifts me effortlessly, laying me back against the smooth surface. The chill of the table contrasts sharply with the heat of his body as it presses into mine, his hands exploring every inch of me, tracing every curve he’s memorized.

He pushes up my dress, his mouth leaving a trail of heat down my throat, his breath tattered against my skin. His hand rests on my stomach, his palm warm and steady.