His palm is large and warm as it snakes down the center of my body, over the curve of my ribs and the flat of my stomach. My breath hitches as he reaches the cluster of curls between my legs. He doesn’t go inside yet; he just cups me through the moisture that’s already gathered there, his fingers pressing firmly against my center. I let out a broken moan, my knees falling open instinctively, inviting him to do whatever he wants.
I feel his fingers slide through the slick evidence of how much I want him.
Konstantin stills for a heartbeat, his head lifting from my breast just enough to look down at where we are joined. A dark, predatory satisfaction lights up his lustful eyes.
“Look at you,” he rasps, his voice thick with a heavy, masculine pride. “Sopping wet for me, Raelyn. You’re practically begging for it, aren’t you? You’re dripping just at the thought of me being inside you, my virgin wife.”
The bluntness of his words should make me recoil, but it only makes the fire in my belly roar. I’m delirious, my head thrashing against the pillow, my voice lost to a series of broken, high-pitched screams.
He doesn’t wait for an answer. He latches back onto my nipple, sucking with a renewed, fierce intensity while his hand moves with a mind of its own. He slides one long finger into me, then another, testing the stretch, the tight heat of my virginity.
I’m completely undone. Every time he thrusts his fingers, I scream again, my hips bucking upward to meet him. It’s toomuch—the pulling at my breast, the invasion between my legs, the sheer, overwhelming size of him looming over me. I’m lost in a haze of white-hot sensation, my trembling trust turning into a frantic, physical demand for him to finally end this exquisite torture.
“Please,” I sob, my hands clutching at his shoulders, my nails digging into his skin. “Konstantin, please…stop holding back. I can’t…I need you.”
He pulls his mouth from my breast, a dark, amused chuckle vibrating deep in his chest. He looks down at me, his face a mask of controlled hunger. “I’m a big man,moya dusha,” he murmurs, his voice a low, warning rumble. “I want to make sure you’re fully ready for me. I don’t want to break you.”
“I am,” I gasp, my legs trembling as they fall even wider. “I’m ready. Please.”
His eyes flash, the storm-gray turning almost black. “Oh? Well, let’s test that.”
He doesn’t go for his protection. Instead, he moves down my body, his mouth leaving a trail of fire across my stomach. I watch, breathless and shivering, as he takes hold of my thighs and pushes them back, pinning my legs wide apart until I’m completely, shamelessly open to him.
The cool air hits me for only a second before the heat of his breath replaces it. Then, he leans in and slurps at my center with a long, firm stroke of his tongue.
The sensation is so sharp, so direct, that my vision literally goes white. I let out a jagged, echoing scream, my fingers tangling in the bedsheets as he settles in, his tongue working with a relentless, rhythmic greed that tells me he isn’t going to stop until I’m completely undone.
He doesn’t give me a moment to recover. His tongue is relentless, a firm, rhythmic pressure that targets the very center of the storm. Every lap, every deep, wet suction makes my thighsquiver uncontrollably. I’m lost, my hands flailing until they find the headboard, gripping the wood so hard my knuckles turn white.
The world narrows down to that single point of contact. It’s too much—it’s perfect. I feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, a spring wound to the breaking point, and then it snaps. I go rigid, a low, guttural cry tearing from my throat as the first wave of the orgasm crashes over me. My muscles pulse around his tongue, and I’m dimly aware of my own voice sobbing out his name as I come completely undone, shattering into a thousand burning pieces.
Konstantin stays with me through every shudder, his hands heavy on my thighs, anchoring me until the last of the tremors begins to fade.
Finally, he pulls back, his face flushed and his breathing as ragged as mine. He looks at me—reallylooks at me—with an expression that borders on agony. He lets out a low, dark swear in his native tongue, his jaw tight enough to crack.
“God, you are torture,” he rasps, his voice cracking with the strain of his restraint. He looms over me, a shadow of pure, concentrated need. “You’re going to be the end of me, Raelyn. I can feel it.”
He doesn’t wait for me to find my breath. He moves between my legs again, his body a hot, heavy weight that I finally, desperately, want to carry.
He doesn’t just sink into me. He moves with an agonizing, deliberate slowness that makes my heart swell even more than the physical sensation. He braces himself above me, his arms shaking with the effort of holding back his own massive weight and his even more massive hunger.
I feel the first press of him—blunt, heavy, and daunting. My breath hitches, my body instinctively tensing at the sheer size of what I’m asking for.
“Easy,moya dusha,” he murmurs, his voice a low, soothing vibration that settles right into my bones. He leans down, capturing my lips in a kiss that tastes like the salt of my skin and the heat of his promise. “Just breathe for me. Look at me.”
I open my eyes, finding his storm-gray gaze. It’s no longer just predatory; it’s anchored with a profound tenderness. He enters me just a fraction, a slow, steady inch that stretches me in ways I never imagined.
“Does that hurt?” he whispers, his forehead resting against mine. “Tell me to stop, Raelyn, and I will. I swear it.”
“No,” I gasp, my hands sliding up his back, feeling the damp heat of his skin. “Don’t stop. I want you.”
He moves another agonizing inch, his jaw so tight I can see the muscle leaping. He’s checking in every second, watching my eyes for the slightest flicker of pain, his hands cupping my face to keep me grounded. He waits for me to adjust, for my body to accept him, refusing to take a single step further than I’m ready for.
“You’re doing so well,” he praises, his voice a ragged whisper against my ear. “Just like that. Take all of me, little bird.”
Slowly, so slowly it feels like a prayer, he continues to bridge the distance, filling me with a heavy, stretching ache. When he finally slides in, the sensation is total. He’s a heavy, solid weight filling the hollow of me, stretching me until I feel like I might break, yet I’ve never felt more whole. I let out a long, shaky exhale, my body pulsing around him as he settles deep against my core.
Konstantin lets out a low, pained hiss, his eyes squeezed shut as he buries his face in the crook of my neck. “God,” he swears, his voice a raw, tortured rasp. “You’re so tight, Raelyn. It’s taking everything in me not to just…to just pound into you.”