Page 23 of Twisted Fate

I clench my teeth as I come, biting back a cry of pleasure as the orgasm ripples through me, my hips bucking up against my hands. I fall back onto the bed, back arching as I come, rolling my hips against the friction of my fingers as I draw out the orgasm as long as possible.

When it fades, I feel clearer, more able to think. The frustration has ebbed, replaced with a certainty that I need to finish this sooner rather than later. This isn't about me or what I want. It’s not about fucking Konstantin or my ego being hurt over his rejection. It's about completing my mission and getting the information I need.

Tomorrow, I'll take Konstantin on that safari excursion. I'll get him alone, and if I can find a way, I'll do what I came here to do. And if a small part of me is disappointed that I'll never know what it would be like to break through that iron control of his, well… that's a price I'm willing to pay for my freedom.

I fall asleep planning the details of tomorrow's trip, my dreams filled with images of Konstantin—sometimes as my target… sometimes as something else entirely.

7

KONSTANTIN

Sleep evades me for a long time, long after I go back into my room, chased away by thoughts of Sophia. Her scent lingers in my nostrils—violets and sugar—and the memory of her body so close to mine on the deck feels like a physical touch, still nearly brushing my skin.

I wanted to kiss her.God, I fucking wanted it. It would have been so easy to cross that line, to take what she's offering. To lose myself in her body, in the desire that I saw in her eyes. But I can't afford that kind of distraction, not with everything hanging in the balance.

The room is warm, almost uncomfortably so, and I strip off my clothes, tossing them over a chair as I retreat to the bed naked. It does nothing to help my situation—my cock, already on the verge of hardening at the slightest thought of Sophia, is stiff in an instant, taking full advantage of the freedom. With a frustrated growl, I wrap my hand around it, stroking roughly as I stride to the bathroom and grip the edge of the sink, avoiding my reflection as I jerk myself off quickly.

It doesn’t take long. I can’t shake Sophia from my thoughts, either. All I can see is her descending into that pool, the waterlapping at every inch of skin that I want to trace with my fingers and tongue. I come hard, shooting jets of hot cum into the sink as I stroke hard and fast, groaning through gritted teeth as the pleasure races through me. It doesn’t satisfy me, not really, but it takes the edge off enough that I might be able to sleep.

Still, my dreams are fractured, filled with her. I wake up before the sun rises, achingly hard again, and wrap my hand around my throbbing cock once more to ease the relentless need.

I try not to think of her as I run my hand up and down the rigid length, as I come hard, spattering my hand with hot cum, but it’s impossible not to. All I can see in my mind’s eye is her rising up out of the pool like Venus, dripping water and moonlight.

I grab a tissue, cleaning up halfway, and throw off the covers, sitting up. I move to the edge of the bed, running my hands through my hair in frustration.Two years was too long to neglect my love life.I should have had a girlfriend, a woman I saw regularly—hell, even just a handful of one-night stands. I haven’t fucked anyone in far too long, and now it’s come back to bite me in the ass.

I check my watch—4:23 a.m. Too early to start the day, too late to hope for actual rest. With a sigh, I pull on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt and head for the main room, careful to be quiet. The last thing I need is another encounter with Sophia like the one on the deck last night. My resolve is already dangerously thin.

The main room is dark and silent, illuminated only by the soft glow of moonlight through the linen curtain separating my room from the outdoors. I stride to the kitchenette, making myself a cup of coffee, and take it out to the patio, intending to at least get some enjoyment out of my early rising.

I pause as I hear a soft rustle from Sophia's room, followed by what sounds like muffled words.

I freeze, listening. Is she awake? On the phone, or—I can’t help but try to listen more closely, my blood heating again at the thought of what else she might be doing in bed.

But then I hear it again—a whimper, not words… and not a pleasured whimper, either. She sounds frightened.

Like she’s having a nightmare.

Before I can think better of it, I unlatch the gate and cross her patio to the curtain at her doorway, listening more intently. I can hear her making soft, pained sounds that send a piercing sensation through my chest, and the sound of her rolling back and forth in bed, clearly restless.

My jaw tightens. I should leave her be. Going into her room, even to comfort her, crosses a line that I’ve clearly drawn. But something in me resists the idea of leaving her to her distress, a protective instinct that I didn’t know I possessed, awakening in my chest.

I knock softly on the doorframe next to the curtain. "Sophia?"

There’s no response. Just another whimper.

I hesitate, then push the curtain back, easing it open just enough to see inside. With the curtain partially open, the room is bathed in that same soft moonlight, enough to make out Sophia's form on the bed. She's tangled in the sheets, her dark hair spread across the pillows, and I hear her distressed moan.

"No," she murmurs, turning her head from side to side. "Please, no..."

Something twists in my chest. I should go, should close the curtain and leave her to her nightmares. But I can't make myself turn away.

I step into her room, aware that I’m crossing a line. My heart thuds behind my ribcage as I approach the bed cautiously. "Sophia," I call out, louder this time. "Wake up. You're dreaming."

She doesn’t respond, clearly lost in the nightmare. I edge closer to the bed, reaching out to gently touch her shoulder, shaking her lightly. "Sophia. Wake up."

Her reaction is instantaneous and startling. Her hand shoots out, gripping my wrist with surprising strength, and she jolts upright in bed, twisting as she throws her other arm upward, driving it toward my throat.

I grab it without thinking, blocking her strike as I free my wrist from her grip, grabbing hers more gently. My adrenaline has surged, my heart pounding in my ears, and I stare down at Sophia’s half-awake face, confusion flooding me.

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