Chapter 3

Chapter Three

In which Kon and Mariya had A Moment.

Bad Idea, Right? – Oliva Rodrigo

Mariya…

Present day…

“Bozhe moy! Oh, my god!” Tatiana gasps, her face sheet white. “I had no idea- why didn’t you tell me how bad it was!” She gets up, hurrying across the room, returning triumphantly holding a pint of pistachio gelato. “Here, you need this. For your throat.”

“Sweetie, my throat was fine within the hour,” I said, digging into the pint anyway, because no human being turns down gelato.

“So… what happened then?” she asks, settling back down.

“They had the track cleared and a doctor examining us within a couple of hours,” I said, savoring my spoonful of gelato and twisting away when she tried to take it back. “Whoever attacked us lost over fifty men, along with a tank and their helicopter. We figured out that the guy trying to strangle me was speaking Hungarian, but the two survivors said they were hired as mercenaries. Yuri is very persuasive with torture,” I said, cringing a bit, “but that’s all he got out of them.”

“Okay… I wish I could create a flowchart for this whole cluster so I could keep track,” Tatiana frets. “So, the train kept going after all of this?”

“Well, we were all going to be picked up at Ulan-Ude the next day, so we had to keep moving,” I said. “Ironically, nearly all the sleeper cars were undamaged, can you believe that? When the doctor was examining me, Kon kept swaggering over to check on me like I was some fragile flower.”

“He did save your life,” she says tactfully.

“Hmm… I think that was the only reason I opened my door,” I said, jamming another spoonful of pistachio heaven in my mouth. “It made me soft.”

“You opened your sleeper car door,” she grins, “you could have told him to fuck off.”

“I know…” I groan.

On the train…

When the knock on the door startled me out of bed, I knew it was Konstantin.

Eyeing the flimsy slab of wood between us, I wondered what he’d do if I just didn’t open the door. He knocked again, the sound sharper. “You’re making me wait,” he said, and I took a step back as if he was reaching for me, just with the sound of his voice. “That’s going to come back around and bite you on the ass. Specifically, I’m going to bite you on the ass if you don’t open this door.”

“You sweet talker, you,” I sneered, even as I was unlocking it.

Konstantin was leaning against the door frame, looking down at me with a menacing little smile. He hadn’t changed or showered since the attack, there’s still blood on his shirt and soot across one sculpted cheekbone, but his eyes were glowing with malice or violence, something savage that brought them to life instead of their usual chill. He sucked in all the light around him like a black hole, and I swayed slightly, leaning in toward him too.

Why was he so beautiful? Why did he smell so good, even under the haze of gunpowder? Why can’t I stop noticing these things?

“I’m checking in to make sure you’re alright,” he said, moving into the room, the sheer size of him pushing me back.

“Sure, you are,” I rolled my eyes, “because you’re such a gentleman.”

“Nice to know that even an attack on our families can’t change your sweet personality,” he frowned at me. Kon thought that look was terrifying and that I absolutely should be groveling right now.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed and his expression grew darker. “Nice to know that even imminent death can’t make you less of a smug prick.”

Even though I was standing as far away from him as I could in this tiny sleeping car compartment, he just needed to reach out those long, ape-like arms of his to grab me and pull me closer.

“Are those bruises on your neck?” Kon snarled, tracing over the thin skin of my throat with a fingertip.

“It’s nothing,” I said, “I almost had my hand under the rifle strap, and-”

His lips slammed into mine, effectively shutting me up.

It was not my first kiss. My mother would have locked me in the basement if she’d known I’d managed to sneak in two kisses during secondary school. But they were both sloppy, messy kisses from boys with a lot of spit and zero technique.

His lips were thick and perfect, his mouth firm on mine with his hand cupping my cheek, his thumb rubbing lightly over my cheekbone as he deepened the kiss. He tasted like mint and vodka. And arrogance.

Damn him.

Shoving him back, I slapped him. “Did I say you could put your hands on me?”

This was new. Instead of laughing at me or getting irritated, he was just… staring. He was staring and he looked hungry. Downright feral. Yanking me closer, he kissed me again. Well, more of a mauling, but…

“Ow! What the hell do you think you’re-”

Konstantin bit my lower lip. Not a playful nip but a bite and he took advantage of my yelp to slide his tongue in my mouth, running over my teeth. When he twined it with my tongue, I let out a moan and hated myself for it. I expected him to grin down at me triumphantly like the smug prick that he is, but his other hand came up too, cradling my face, deepening the kiss.

My back bumped against the window and I could feel all of him, hot and hard, pressing against me. His mouth lifted off mine for just a second, enough to let me catch a breath before he swooped down again.

“So sweet,” he mumbled hoarsely, tilting my head and kissing me harder.

I should be punching him in the neck. Or bringing my knee up against his crotch so hard that… O gospodi, this was so good. His hands slid down to my ass and I yelped again as he easily lifted me.

“Wrap your legs around my waist,” he ordered, biting my earlobe when I didn’t do it fast enough. He bounced me lightly as if he was testing his grip. It made my center rub hard against his cock and this time, I bit him. Right on that juicy spot between his neck and his muscular shoulder. I could feel his chuckle all the way down to my pussy. “I knew you’d be a biter.”

Smiling at him sweetly, I tightened my thighs against his narrow waist, enjoying his pained little grunt. I have the strongest thighs in my weightlifting class. “Oh, I’m happy to draw a little blood.”

“No, baby. I’m going to have blood on my cock tonight from your sweet little cunt.” Konstantin looked alarmingly determined, his usual pompous dickhead grin was absent and he was looking at me so oddly. I should be horrified by his comment, etot ublyudok, that presumptuous bastard, but that’s not what solidifies in my clearly scrambled brain.

Finally.

I’m shocked by that thought and how fervent it is. It’s finally my turn.

Konstantin chuckled and then groaned when I bit him again. “Harder.”

The feel of his skin under my teeth, all that hard muscle… “Gladly,” I hissed, biting him fiercely, almost breaking the skin.

He hoisted me higher, sucking my breast through the thin cotton of my t-shirt. It made my nipple so sensitive and the soft material suddenly felt so scratchy. Or itchy. Just… it should be off me.

Impatient, his fingers ripped through the cloth like it was tissue paper until I was bared to him and his gaze rose to mine. “Perfect, I knew it.”

My back arched violently as his wet, hot mouth fastened over my breast and I couldn’t think of any retort because everything narrowed down to the feel of him, squeezing one, sucking the other, and I was shocked. How good this was, and how warm, enclosed by his arms and pressed against the window by his sheer bulk, feeling safe and not smothered the way I’d expected.

I’d once seen desert lightning in Saudi Arabia, ripping almost horizontally across the sand. My blood felt like that, blazing through me. My center was burning as he slid me slowly back down to grind his stiff cock against me. There was no thinking now, just hasty fingers trying to unbutton his jeans while his fist grabbed hold of my undies and ripped them off me.

“Chert voz’mi, goddamn,” Kon groaned, sliding a finger inside me, tapping my painfully sensitive clit with his thumb. I sucked in a breath so fast that I choked. I could feel it stroking along my walls, his gaze intent and fascinated. His icy gaze rose to mine and he watched me as his finger curved and lightly scratched a spot inside me that made my knees try to slam together against the barrier of his hips as I gasped, coming so hard, so hard against just his stupid finger, harder than I ever came with my own fumbling attempts.

“Ride it out, Pchelka my little bee,” he murmured, his fingernail gently running over that spot again.

“Bozhe moy, oh my god,” I moaned, forgetting that I hated this man who pinned me against the cold window with his huge, warm chest and made me feel this way. His insistent finger was still playing with me and his thumb brushed over my clitoris, light, teasing, torturing brushes that were too delicate to do anything but make me want more, to push my hips up and force him against me and his damn arm was holding me down.

“One more.” His cold, sculpted face was alight with pleasure, fascinated with my writhing self and when his thumb pressed hard against my sensitive little bundle of tissue as his finger did the same inside me, I was forced kicking and screaming into another orgasm. Even if I didn’t want to do anything he told me to do, I came, shaking and feeling the slick wetting my thighs and his hand. “So pretty when you come,” he sighed, almost reverently while he licked his fingers.

My thighs tightened around his waist for balance as his other hand shoved down his jeans and boxers, fisting his cock. He was kissing me again as he ran the tip of his shaft against my center, slicking it up and I wanted to see it. How big is his-

“Oh, ow!” I gasped.

“Bite me again,” he grunted, pulling my head against his shoulder and I did, gnawing at his smooth skin like an animal and it made it easier to feel the sting of his relentless push inside me. His dick was throbbing, like a heartbeat and it was as hard as it is huge. He filled me, one inch at a time and I was panting, my entire world narrowed down to the salt taste of his skin and the feel of him opening me wider.

“That’s it, Pchelka,” he said, “almost there. Fuck, you’re perfect. Better even than I imagined.”

“Try not to break me,” I hissed between gritted teeth, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

When I ran my nails along his arms, I was pleased to feel he was shaking, pleased that this was affecting him, too. He gave me a minute to feel the weight and heat of him inside me before he groaned.

“I’m going to come like some fucking teenager if I don’t start moving, you’re squeezing me so tight. Yebat’… fuck…” It was a testament to how fucked up our relationship was that I thought his words were deeply romantic.

He groaned and then his hips started an easy slide in and out, the movement of his cock beginning to spark against my pussy. “Krasivyy devushka, my beautiful girl.”

Beautiful? Not a word I ever imagined would come from Konstantin and it warmed me. My arms tightened around his shoulders and I pulled my teeth from his skin, drawing in a long, shuddering sigh. My wires were crossed somehow because the pain his alarmingly large cock was causing pleasure and I couldn’t separate the two.

His hips were slamming against mine and he cupped my ass, holding me up with one hand while his other thumb circled my clitoris again. It was so sensitive that his touch was like electrical sparks that shot up my spine. Opening my eyes, I looked at him. Damn him, Konstantin was the beautiful one, his gaze fixed between us, with his mouth open and sweat beading his forehead and his pale hair. He looked up at me and slid his wet thumb into my mouth.

“Taste it,” he said hoarsely, “how sweet you are.” He groaned again as my lips closed over his thumb, running my tongue along the rough pad. The taste of myself and the sheer outrageousness of this moment made me arch my back and he stumbled, laughing and still holding on to me.

My world tilted and I was on my back on the tiny bed and I felt his muscles coil and tighten as he ground that monster inside my tender, throbbing center. My breath hitched and impossibly, I was coming again. I tightened down on him and Konstantin growled, putting his big paw over my mouth. “Come with me, Pchelka,” he said, pushing in a little higher, impossibly deep and his swelling dick rubbed hard against that spot his finger found and I screamed into his hand, biting it and barely hearing his grunt of pain as he flooded me, my center hot and sore and it was… so good. So damn good.

The little room was silent, aside from the clacking sound from the train on the rails and our harsh breathing. Konstantin’s face was resting against my neck, his cock still buried inside me. My arms and legs were wrapped tightly around him and when he pulled back a bit to look at me, I knew he was thinking the same thing I was.

What did we just do?

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