Page 38 of Twisted Fate

A strange warmth blooms through me at his words, settling in my chest. My wife is not to be put in danger.

He wants me protected, even if he didn’t want to marry me.

That warmth stays there, softening something in me, even though I know that if he knew who I really was, I’d probably be right next to Elia.

Guilt flickers through me, mingling with that warmth. The thought that maybe Konstantin doesn’t deserve to die pricks at the back of my mind.

But it’s not about what he deserves . It’s about what Kane wants. What I need. The job that I’ve taken and the reward that I’ll get for it in the end.

“Come with me,” he says finally. “We’ll stay in my room.

I’ll check on her periodically to make sure that she’s still secure until my security gets here.

Once they’ve returned her to Miami, the private jet will come back and get us.

” A hint of wariness enters his gaze at that, as if he expects me to argue.

“Konstantin—”

“We can’t continue to stay here,” he says flatly. “You heard her. There could be more assassins. We’ll wait until the morning after tomorrow, when the jet returns. Then we leave.”

It’s not that much less than our actual honeymoon would have been. We only had three days left. But all the same, I feel the pressure of the need to finish my mission bearing down on me.

He wants me in his room. In his bed. His walls are down, and now all I have to do is maneuver myself close enough to finish things.

His guard will be heightened now, but I can work with that.

He wants me badly enough that I can do what I always planned, now—fuck him into a stupor and then make my move.

“Come on,” Konstantin says, his hand touching the small of my back. I can feel the heat of his hand through the silk of my robe. “Let’s go to my room and get cleaned up. I’ll bring your things in afterward.”

I know what that means—he doesn’t plan for me to need clothes for a while, yet.

That warmth in my chest blooms into something hot and hungry, an ache of desire sweeping through my body. The moment he closes the door behind us, I let my robe drop to the floor, and I see the answering heat in Konstantin’s eyes as his gaze sweeps over my bare form.

I drop to my knees, my fingers hooking in the waistband of his sweatpants as I tug them down his hips. He’s already halfway to hard when I pull them down to his thighs, and he groans as I wrap my hand around his stiffening length, bringing the tip to my lips.

I tell myself that I’m doing this to seduce him.

That I want him trusting and pliable and tired, wrung out from pleasure, his senses dulled.

That I’m playing the part of the temptress, making him think I’ll do anything he wants, pleasure him any way he wants, in order to get and keep his guard down.

But the uncomfortable truth that lingers in the back of my mind is one that I can’t ignore completely.

I want to be doing this.

I want him .

I’m doing this because I crave him already, the way I can see in his eyes that he craves me too.

Konstantin moans when my lips wrap around the head of his cock, his hand knotting in my hair as I slide my mouth down his length.

He tastes like my arousal and his, and I lick hungrily along his shaft as he hardens in my mouth, his hips already tilting forward to push his cock into my throat.

His hand tightens in my hair, and I grip the side of his hip, bracing myself as he starts to fuck my face.

“ God , you’re so fucking good, volchitsa ,” he groans, thrusting into my mouth.

“I want to come all over your pretty face. I want to mark you with my fucking cum—” He pushes himself into the very back of my throat, as my lips slide down to the base.

“Touch yourself, volchitsa. I want to see you coming on your fingers while I paint your pretty face.”

A shudder ripples through me. I drop my hand between my thighs immediately, moaning around his cock as I find my swollen, slick clit and start to circle it with two fingers. I’m dripping wet with a mixture of my arousal and his cum, and his roughness only turns me on more.

“God, you make me fucking insane,” he growls, thrusting his cock into my throat faster, harder, like he’d fuck my pussy.

I choke around his length, gagging, but he doesn’t stop, and I reach down with my other hand, impaling myself with two fingers as I rock against my hands.

“You don’t fucking shy away from anything, do you, volchitsa?

My fucking wild woman. My little she-wolf,” he growls with pleasure, holding himself pressed to my lips as he lets out a low groan.

“Fuck, I’m going to come soon, Sophia. Make yourself come on your fingers, dorogoy , come for me?—”

The ragged sound of his voice, the feeling of his cock choking me—it all tips me over the edge.

Konstantin groans aloud as he pulls himself free of my mouth the moment he feels me start to shudder, his hand in my hair yanking my head back as his other hand grips the length of his cock and starts to stroke roughly.

“Oh god, Konstantin—” I moan, my hips rocking down onto my hands. “I’m coming, oh fuck, I?—”

“ Fuck!” he snarls as his cock throbs in front of my face, the first hot spurt hitting my cheek.

He paints my face with his cum, spurt after spurt hitting my cheeks, my lips, my nose, spattering down to my breasts as I come hard on my own fingers, moaning out my orgasm, the pleasure only heightened by the heat of Konstantin’s cum on my face.

He pushes his cockhead against my lips, and I open my mouth obediently, licking away the drops of cum still pearling from his tip.

“That’s it. Lick it clean, volchitsa . Fuck ?—”

He’s breathing hard as I lick the last of his cum from his cock. “ Fuck , I could keep you just like that, dorogoy ,” he murmurs, tapping his cockhead against my lips before finally withdrawing fully. “Covered in my cum. You look even prettier like this, Sophia.”

All the same, we do finally end up in the shower. Konstantin fucks me again, up against the wall—slower this time—until he comes inside of me. And as sore as I am, I still come for him again, twice, screaming out his name as he fills me up.

When we’re finally dressed and he comes back from checking on Elia again, he stops just after closing the door dividing the rooms, looking at me with that appraising expression on his face again.

“Your father must have taught you very well,” he muses. “I can’t fathom taking a child to do jobs like that. But you didn’t flinch.”

I shrug, trying to look casual, even as my stomach tightens. I can’t afford to let my guard down. The tightrope that I’m walking is more dangerous than ever.

“What can I say?” I shrug. “I’m tough. He made sure of it. It’s a tough world out there, and he wanted me to be able to handle it.”

Konstantin narrows his eyes at me. “Most mafia princesses expect their husbands to handle it all for them.”

I press my lips together, forcing myself to hold his stare no matter how badly I want to look away. “We’ve already established that I’m different.”

“You certainly are.”

A long silence stretches out between us. Konstantin watches me for a moment, then shakes his head, walking out past the curtain to the patio. My heart thuds in my chest.

He hasn’t figured it out yet. I know that. If he had, I’d be tied up and being interrogated right now. But he isn’t completely comfortable with my explanations either.

We order room service to Konstantin’s room for dinner, and I don’t miss the fact that he has a gun tucked into the back of his pants when it arrives.

This time we get our food without incident, and we’re quiet through the meal, both of us starving.

Between the mess with Elia and being unable to keep our hands off each other, we haven’t eaten all day.

“I’ll check on her this time,” I tell him, as we’re getting ready for bed.

Truthfully, I’m just putting off the moment when I’ll slide into bed next to him.

We haven’t slept together, not like this.

That fraught night out in the tent in the dust storm doesn’t count, especially since we didn’t fall asleep together.

It’s not the first time I’ve slept beside a man who is also my target. But it’s always felt uncomfortable to me—too close, too intimate. And with Konstantin…

Somehow, it feels even more so.

Konstantin hesitates, then nods. “Fine. But be careful. She might still be dangerous.”

So am I. It’s on the tip of my tongue to say it, but I don’t need to remind Konstantin of that. I don’t need to give him any more reason to think about it than he already has.

I walk back into my old room, heading to the bathroom where Elia is still tied up. She’s still there, of course, leaning against the bathtub where we left her, covered in blood. Her eyes are closed, but they flutter open when I walk in.

“Come to finish the job?” she bites out, her voice weaker than I know she’d like it to be. It’s all too easy to imagine myself where she is, and I force the image out of my head.

“No,” I tell her flatly. “That’ll be up to Don Genovese once you go back to him. Depending on how disappointed he is in you. Slakov, too.”

I see the fear that flits across her face. “You should be worried, too,” she hisses.

I blink at her. “Why? Because another assassin might come after Konstantin? They won’t succeed, either.”

“No. Because you’re going to fail, too.”

My heart thuds hard behind my ribs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She sneers at me. “You’re no mafia wife. I’ve run into plenty of them over the years. They don’t act like you do. You’re a professional. Like me. And if you’re with Konstantin, then that means you’re out to kill him, too.”

I move fast as a striking snake, slapping her face so hard that her head swings to one side. I lean in, grabbing a handful of her hair as I look down at her.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She coughs wetly, spitting fresh blood out of a mouth already caked in it, dried around her lips and down her chin. “Maybe,” she manages. “But I’m pretty sure I’m onto something.”

I twist my hand in her hair. “You breathe one word like that again—you say anything like that to me again, or especially around Konstantin, or his men, and I will make what we did to you earlier feel like a fucking spa treatment. Do you fucking understand me?”

She smiles, the expression horrific on her face, bloody as it is. “I understand,” she manages thickly. “But do you? Because he’s going to figure it out, Sophia . And when he does, what you did to me will look like child’s play compared to what he’ll do to you.”

I slap her again, harder this time. “You’ll regret it if you say anything,” I warn her. “You’ll find out exactly what I’m capable of. And you don’t want that.”

“I’m sure.” She glares up at me with glittering eyes. “Don’t worry. I won’t blow your cover. I don’t want any more pain before I get back to Miami, and it won’t serve me anything. But think about it. It’s coming for you too.”

I let go of her harshly, letting her sink back against the tub. I check her bindings and leave, my heart in my throat as I walk back to Konstantin’s room.

Deep down, I know she’s right. Konstantin will figure it out, eventually. And if I don’t make my move soon…

I’ll be the one tied up and bleeding, looking up at a man who wants me dead.