Page 68 of Konstantin
“It was just the adrenaline…” she breathes, practically moaning against my mouth. “We can’t repeat this. It’s just a one-time thing.”
“Adrenaline?” My tongue traces the curve of her lips. “That’s all this is? You feel nothing for me?”
My cock presses against her wet core, hard and thick, the friction unbearable. She fights a gasp, her hands flying to my back, nails raking down my flesh like she wants to tear her way into me.
“What do you want me to say?”
“The truth, Tessa.”
I trail kisses along her jaw, nipping at the soft places that make her squirm. I stop just before her mouth, my exhales brushing her lips but never giving her what I know she wants again.
“You’re my boss…” she tries, but her voice falters, hands pulling me closer.
“That’s not what I asked,” I growl. My fingers curl around her throat as my eyes burn into hers. “Do you feel something when I touch you? When I look at you?”
I push closer, the tip of my cock nudging against her entrance, hot and heavy.
Her lips part, eyes shining, defiant and drowning all at once. She wants to lie.
But I won’t let her.
“God damn it, Tessa, just say it!” My hips circle, my thickness dragging against her center, teasing us both with what we could have. With what Ineedto take.
She groans, her fingers digging into my back, thighs squeezing around me, hips rocking forward like her body’s already made the decision for her.
“Fine! Yes…I feel it, okay? Happy?”
“Entirely.” My smile widens right before my mouth crashes down on hers, devouring her confession with a kiss so hungry, so intoxicating, it tastes like a war I have no intention of losing.
She moans against me, and I swallow the sound, our tongues clashing as I drive into her with one hard, claiming thrust. She arches beneath me, a cry escaping as I fill her completely, every inch of her mine again.
“This,” I grunt against her mouth. “This is what you wanted.”
She doesn’t deny it. Can’t.
“You need to stop fucking me without a condom. I may be on the pill, but I don’t trust you.” Her nails work into my scalp as I piston intoher harder, deeper, every stroke punishing and reverent all at once.
“I will never wear a condom with you, so get used to it.”
“Oh God!”
I slam into her again, and her body tightens around me, warm and slick and everything I’ve been craving my entire life. And as I fuck her into the mattress, I know one thing.
I’ll never let her lie to me. Not when the truth sounds like this.
“Are you gonna tell me about your scars?”
Her question comes out of nowhere, cutting through the quiet as we lie tangled together, our bodies sweat-ridden and satisfied.
For a second, I say nothing. I barely think about those scars anymore. Not really. When you can’t see them, it’s easy to pretend they don’t exist. Like the pain is a ghost you’ve outgrown. But it never really leaves. It just settles deeper into your bones, into the parts of you no one else can touch.
I don’t mind the scars. They’re a part of me. A roadmap of the life I survived. But she wouldn’t understand that kind of life. And the last thing I want from her is pity.
“What do you want to know?” I draw her in tighter, her sweet, floral scent curling around me.
“How did you get them?” Her brows furrow, her curiosity turning into something that feels a lot like concern, and I very much like seeing it.
I’ve never even had a woman ask about them before, like they just assume I got them because of the life I live.
