Page 73 of Thorns of Lust
The two of us stood, toe-to-toe, a battle of wills dancing around us. The game was thrilling and dangerous.
“Well, I have to–” I rasped, taking a step back. Then another. He didn’t move, but his eyes followed my every move. “Pee.”
I rushed into the bathroom and locked the door with a loud click, like the lock on my heart. As if that could stop him.
Maybe playing with the devil wasn’t such a grand plan, but there was no going back now. I’d just have to make sure he didn’t steal my heart and soul.
As I stumbled into the shower, turning it on, I felt taken unlike ever before. Owned. Possessed. Consumed.
Actually, scratch that. I had only felt like this once before. The first night Adrian and I were together. It had never felt that good again. It was okay, but never that good.
That night, in the gazebo, when he took my virginity. It was the most amazing night of my life. It was the night when I took charge and sent Adrian a note to meet me in the gazebo. The pleasure that he gave me made me an instant addict. After that, I waited and waited for him to make a move. He didn’t - not for years.
The ache between my legs throbbed with that sweet, familiar pain. I tried to use Konstantin to ease that ache. It backfired because I was the one that felt utterly used and consumed. Not in a bad way either. In fact, it felt so fucking good that it was tempting to go down this road again.
The waterfall cascaded down my body, freezing at first, then gradually warming up. I still felt him on every inch of my skin. I still smelled him deep in my lungs.
A mirror surrounded me and I caught a glimpse of myself in it. My lips were swollen and red. The expression on my face was one of a thoroughly pleasured, or better yet fucked, woman.
A red mark, a hickey, marred my skin where my neck and shoulder met. Another one on my left breast. And another one on my right hip. I twisted around and caught more marks. Light bruises in the shape of his fingerprints on my ass.
Konstantin had marked me.
But it felt so much more than just a mark on my body. There was a mark on my soul too.
My gaze locked on my thighs where the warm liquid trickled down my legs. Cum.
We didn’t use a condom!
Maybe… Letting out a sigh, I pushed all the hopes and dreams that have been crushed before out of my head. Besides, getting pregnant with the devil would result in the spawn of Satan. Hardly a perfect scenario.
I turned off the shower twenty minutes later, then wrapped myself in one of the luxuriously fluffy hotel towels. Tucking the towel around me, I stilled as I listened for any movements. Tiptoeing to the door, I pressed my ear against the smooth wooden surface.
Still nothing.
I softly cracked the door and found the room empty.
“Konstantin?”
No answer.
It was then that I saw the piece of paper sitting in the midst of the tousled sheets.
Padding across the cold hardwood, I made my way to the bed.
There. Are. No. Other. Men. For. You.
Your hands, mouth, tits, cunt, and ass are for me only.
Remember that before you do something stupid.
How fucking romantic.
TWENTY-FOUR
KONSTANTIN
Weeks ago, although it felt like years, I left Tatiana in D.C. and returned to California for some urgent business. Reluctantly. But it was clear the woman still hadn’t moved on from Adrian. A grinding, crunchy noise registered, and I realized it was me. I clenched my teeth so hard, my molars protested.
