Page 40 of Konstantin (Marinov Bratva #1)

Before I can fully grasp what’s happening, his hand is on my back again, fingers trailing down my spine as the zipper hums in the stillness of the room.

With every slow inch, my skin spreads with goose bumps as the straps slide from my shoulders, fabric slipping down my body. His gaze follows the movement, until the dress is pooled at my feet.

“Have you chosen your word yet?”

I nod. “Lioness.”

A small smile flickers across his face. Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me to the bench, each step heavy with the promise of what’s to come.

“Let me help you up.”

In one smooth motion, he lifts me, positioning my body with my knees bent, elbows resting on the cool leather, my chest pressed against the surface.

Vulnerability wraps around me like a second skin as he begins with my ankles, locking them in place before moving to my wrists.

I’m completely spread open. Exposed, restrained, trembling beneath the growing anticipation.

He steps away toward the armoire, opening it to retrieve something. When he turns, he’s holding a red leather whip. Chills explode across my skin as he drags it slowly up my spine, the leather like a teasing caress, down the curve of my back, tracing every inch with expert precision .

My breath stutters as it slips lower, gliding between my thighs, brushing over my clit. A sharp jolt of need shoots through me before he strikes my thigh. Hard.

Instead of pain, a wave of surrender rushes over me, my muscles tightening as my mind and body fight to keep up with the rush of sensations.

“More, sir.”

My back arches, submitting completely to him as he rains a series of strikes across my skin, each one sharper, deeper. The sting of pain twists into something else, something heady and addictive. My body burns with the desire for more.

“Good girl.” He hisses as he lets the whip glide up my back. “You take it so well.”

Then a deeper strike lands and I cry out. “Thank you, sir.”

Another strike comes, then another, before his hand softly feathers over my throbbing flesh.

“I think you need a little more of a challenge,” he adds, his voice a low growl.

What the hell does that mean?

And why does the thought thrill me more than it terrifies me?

He drops the whip on a nearby table, and the sharp clatter makes me flinch. Then he’s at the armoire again. This time, when he turns around, there’s nothing in his hands…except a black silk blindfold.

And that just makes me sweat even more.

“Remember your safe word.” He slips the blindfold over my eyes, and the world goes black.

Instantly, everything heightens. Sound, touch, the racing of my pulse echoing in my ears.

Warm fingers trail down my spine, dipping lower, sliding between the cheeks of my ass, then teasing my entrance. I arch into the touch, needing it deeper.

But he avoids my clit entirely, stroking everywhere else until I’m clawing the leather, all my attention on the fact that I want him to touch me there. I squirm, the need building, nerves fraying. Then…nothing. His hands disappear, and every inch of my skin throbs in anticipation.

When something hot drips onto my back, I wince, the feeling satisfying as it cools against me.

Before I can ask if it was wax, a sudden, powerful vibration jolts across my core, like from a toy. My nails dig into the leather beneath me, a cry ripping from my throat.

“Oh God?—”

A deep chuckle resonates from behind me, his warm breath teasing my neck. “Your pussy’s soaked, and I haven’t even gotten to the best part.”

The vibration intensifies, rolling through me with savage precision. My body bows, teetering on the edge.

His name rips from my lips. “Konstantin…please!”

But mercy never comes. The pressure lessens, the teasing pull of the device retreating just enough to drive me mad.

My hips jerk, chasing the sensation, but he offers nothing but the slow, exquisite torture he knows how to deliver so well.

Fingers tangle in my hair, pulling tight while a warm palm strokes over the curve of my ass, deceptively gentle, until the sharp crack of a slap rings out. I jump, a whimper slipping free.

“It’s too bad you can’t see the crowd you’ve drawn.” His words are low and rough. “Your perfect cunt on display, and they all know it’s mine. Only mine.”

He spanks me harder, soothing the sting before striking again. And again.

My body shudders beneath him, on the edge of release, the pleasure too much, yet not enough.

The vibrations return between my legs, circling my clit in maddening slow rolls. My walls clench, needing this to end, to feel myself come undone.

“Please, please, let me come, sir,” I plead with everything I have, and knowing we’re not alone makes it even hotter.

“Give me everything. Don’t hold back.” His hand curls around my throat while the toy drives me to the brink before he pulls it away.

“No, no, please, sir…”

His deep, raspy moan ripples through me. “I like the sound of you begging.”

A hand cups my center, grinding into me before slapping my pussy. The pulsating desperation makes me dizzy. I hear the metallic jingle of his belt, and my blood pumps violently in my veins, hoping he fucks me and fills me.

But instead, a strike lands sharp and hot against my thigh.

“Yes, God, yes!” My voice breaks with pleasure. “Again.”

“Again what?”

“Sir. Again, sir.” The words quiver out of me. I’ve never felt this much pleasure before.

Another blow comes, harder this time, biting into my other thigh. The belt lashes over my ass, the backs of my legs, each strike driving me higher and pushing me closer to that edge.

“Your skin…” he groans behind me. “The most perfect shade of red, katyonak.”

Something loops around my neck, pulling my head back. I can’t see him, but I don’t have to. I can feel the feral heat in his gaze.

“Please…I need it.”

“What do you need?” His breath ghosts over my ear. “Say it.”

“I-I need to come, sir.”

“Then come.” With a growl, he drives his cock into me in one brutal thrust, and my body arches, stars bursting behind my eyes.

He pulls the belt tighter, his grip fierce, his pace ruthless.

Every time he rams into me, I cry out, unable to control myself. I shudder as the wand returns, pressed mercilessly at my clit. The orgasm rips through me, shattering, uncontrollable, as I squirt all over him, legs shaking, vision going white at the edges.

“That’s it, come on. More.” He slams into me. “Show me how you belong to me, wife.”

I can’t stop. My body won’t let me. The more I come, the more I need to again. My hips move on instinct, seeking another release.

He laughs knowingly. “Don’t worry. I’m not stopping. Not until you beg me to. And even then, I’ll keep fucking you until your body breaks beneath me. Because that’s what you need.”

And he’s right. I never knew how badly I needed this. Not just to come, but to let go. To surrender completely. Not to share control, but to hand it over entirely. To lose myself in the wreckage and be reborn through it.

I needed more than just a fucking. I needed to be wrecked. Needed the pain to cleanse both my body and soul. And that’s what he’s giving me.

His body punishes mine with perfect rhythm, unforgiving and skilled. When the wand returns, another climax detonates through me, even harder than the last.

And if Mira or his brothers are watching? I couldn’t care less.

All that matters is this. Him. The way he breaks me apart and puts me back together.

Over and over again.