Page 54 of Konstantin
I chuckle to myself. Of course she’d give in. What choice does she have?
When I loosen my grip, I savor the pink flush on her cheeks, the way her lips stay parted like she’s still catching up.
“Good girl.” A smirk pulls at my mouth. “I knew you’d seereason.”
She exhales hard, a sound closer to a snarl than a laugh.
“It’s for your own safety. I have enemies. They wouldn’t hesitate to use you to get to me.”
“So this is formybenefit, huh?” Sarcasm drips from every word as she glares like she’s not sure whether she wants to slap me or drag me closer.
I’d welcome either.
“Of course. Everything I do is for your benefit.” My gaze trails down the length of her body, and I can’t help invading her space again, both hands gripping her hips and dragging her flush to me. “But if you want the complete truth, I want you in my bed. I want to feel your bare skin on mine. I want to own every sound you make. Every look. Every damn heartbeat. You’re so far under my skin, I’m bleeding for it.”
The smallest shift gives her away. A twitch in her jaw. Her spine straightens like a blade, and I know she feels this. Every inch of her is on edge, and I like knowing that it’s because of me.
Her defiance flickers behind those fierce, firelit eyes, but it’s starting to crack. Because this thing between us? It’s stronger than her resistance. It’s hunger in the form of a slow, unraveling surrender, and she’s starting to realize it too.
I don’t want to want her. It’d be so much simpler if this was just about sex. But I can’t escape this. I don’t even want to. And that’s a deadly recipe for the both of us.
I step back, undoing the cuffs of my shirt one by one, and she turns her back to me almost too quickly, like I can’t see through the paper-thin armor she’s wrapped herself in.
I want to break through it. Shatter every piece of control she’s gripping to.
“Look at me,” I demand.
She doesn’t move. So predictable.
“I saidlook at me.” My tone sharpens, daring her to disobey.
Slowly, she turns, her chin high, breaths shallow. Every inch of her is tight with tension, ire…and need. I see it all. She can’t hide from me.
“Come closer.” I beckon her with a finger, wishing she was naked with a collar and leash around her neck.
The image in my mind is so vivid I can taste it. Her crawling to me like the good girl I know she’ll become.
Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “What do you want?”
Every muscle in my body twists. I want her hands on me. I want her surrender.
“Take off my belt.”
She freezes. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me.” I take a step forward, erasing the last breath of space between us. My voice dips to a warning. “Take. Off. My. Belt.”
Her eyes thin, that fire flaring. “I’m not your servant.”
“No…” The heat between us practically vibrates. My hand feathers against her hip, deliberately slow. “You’re not. But youaremine. I own you, Ms. Monroe. Now do as you’re told and take off my belt.”
A beat of silence passes. Then, with our eyes locked, her hands rise. And with disdain written all over her features, she finds the buckle and starts to unfasten it. Not because she’s obedient. Because she wants me to know she can play this game and still stay in control.
She tugs the leather free with a smooth pull, and I see it in her eyes: Ms. Monroe is just as addicted as I am.
And I haven’t even touched her yet.
I take the belt from her hands, slipping it behind her neck and pulling her in. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
