Page 22 of Konstantin

Ona menya ubivayet.She’s killing me.

Killing every last piece of logic I have left.

My jaw clenches so tight, it’s a miracle I don’t crack bone. This is madness. Full, unfiltered insanity, and I never want it to end.

I feed two fingers inside her, and she clamps around me like her body already accepts that I own it. My mouth stays on her, tongue flicking, tasting, possessing.

When she finally gives in to her pleasure, her body arches, spasming, crying out like she’s being torn apart in the most beautiful way.

“That’s it,” I growl. “Squirt for me, katyonak. Like the perfect whoreImade you.”

The ferocity in her eyes only makes my cock throb harder, like she hates that she’s letting me do this.

Good. Let her rage. Let her fight it. She’ll still come for me.

I slam a third finger inside her, rougher now, and watch her unravel again—face flushed, lips parted, breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps. She tries to push me away, nails digging, desperate.

“I can’t…”

“Yes, you can. You’ll take every goddamn thing I give you and beg for more.”

I thrust deeper, harder. The wet, obscene sound of her pussy echoes around us, and it only feeds the beast in me. The one that wants to ruin her, brand her, fucking keep her.

She’s beautiful like this, at my every mercy, bending to my will.

Our eyes lock when she looks up at me, and it happens. Somethingbreaks inside me.

Not rage. Not lust. Something worse. Something far too possessive and primal and dangerous.

She’s not just a fuck. Not just a toy. This feels like more.

And I don’t know what that means except one thing: I will never let her go.

As I drive into her this time, her walls tighten around me, her body quivering, falling apart in waves. I take it all in, savoring the sight of her submitting to her pleasure. A man could really get used to this.

But none of it solves the problem at hand. She needs a job. And there’s no way in hell I’ll let her work at the club.

Though I do have something else in mind…

When her body relaxes, I slip my fingers from her soaked cunt and push them into her mouth. She sucks them clean.

“Good girl. So obedient.”

Her heavy-lidded eyes follow me as I stand, cracking my knuckles and releasing a slow breath.

“You may get dressed now.”

I gather her clothes, handing them to her, and she rushes to slip on her panties, too eager to cover what I should’ve kept mine a little longer. Should’ve made her sit there, soaked and shivering, while I asked the questions that reveal a glimpse into who she is.

As she lifts her arms to slide the dress over her head, I catch something that causes my pulse to spike. Just a flicker beneath each arm, but it’s undeniable.

My jaw tightens, but I don’t say a word. Not yet.

Something in me stills, sharpening into a weapon. Because I know what I just saw. And there’s only one reason marks like that show up in places people don’t expect others to see.

Someone hurt her. Or she hurt herself.

And when I find out why or who…they won’t touch her again. They won’t touchanythingagain.