‘I’m not offering you sex,’ he clarified. ‘I would, of course, not deviate from the contract. I would play safely within your carefully scripted rules.’
‘How would you dothat?’
‘I would use my imagination,glikia mou.’
Hers ran riot. Of all the secret things he could do to her here. In the dark.
‘No.’
‘You need it,’ he countered, his voice low. A whisper only her ears could hear. ‘You needme.’
Her breath caught. Clarity formed—pushing the fog of illicit images in her mind apart to reveal a path of understanding at their centre.
It was a power play.All of it.The contract…
It had surprised her that he’d agreed to it, without correction, without changing the narrative he wanted the contract to fulfil other than the length of their agreement.
She could play within the lines, too.
Her heart racing, she reached for his hand. This time she didn’t take it further away. She drew it nearer. Placed it in her own lap. On her stomach. And she knew he only needed a word, only her consent, and a new game would begin.
Hers.
‘Okay.’
It was all Konstantinos needed to hear.
He’d been heavy-handed, but he was in no mood to be subtle. Watching her, watching the elaborate spectacle on the stage…
She hypnotised him.
The rise and fall of her chest, her small breasts straining against the bodice of her dress…
He hadn’t been able to help himself. He wanted to stoke the flame in her eyes, play along with the music seeping into her ears. The fast pump of a song elevating her pulse, widening her eyes.
His fingers flexed on her stomach, firm and tense beneath his hand. She remained perfectly still.Waiting. Her hand on top of his. Trapping it against her.Her eyes remained on the stage, but he felt it. Her complete awareness of him. His eyes watching her.
He wanted her eyes.
He wantedher to want him.
He wanted her every thought to be about him as his thoughts had only been about her for the last year.
He’d been consumed by her.
By the thought of her out there, all alone.
Now she would be consumed byhim.
Konstantinos moved. The pads of his fingers stroked over the silk clinging to the shape of her flat stomach like a second skin. The hand on top of his tensed. He stilled. Waited for her to throw his hand away—change her mind.
But she didn’t.
She lifted her hand.
Freed his.
Gave him permission to roam, and fulfil his promise.
