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I’m not.
His warm hands are all over me, massaging my back and shoulders, melting my bones. A moan slips out when he dips lower, caressing my butt, creating a firestorm in my body.
I can’t think right now to tell him to stop. Even if I could, I want him to keep going.
As if Costi knows I’m struggling to maintain myself, he taunts, “Do you know how easy it would be for me to slide my thick cock into you right now? I know you want it. I know you’re fantasizing about it.”
I don’t move, feeling his hardness pressing into my ass. I’m just trying to breathe correctly.
“Do you like when my hands go here?” He rubs his hands over my shoulders and I let out another soft moan. “Or here?” His hands are magic, casting a spell over me, moving down to my thighs, squeezing and kneading them. He leans over, his mouth so close to my ear. “Don’t ever think I wouldn’t give you anything you could ever want.”
I swallow, turning over and gaining my composure as I stare into the wild eyes of Constantine. “Well, then, let me go.”
He slides off of me and smashes his hand into his pillow as he lies back down, getting comfortable. “Anything but that.”
My mouth is parched—a complete contrast to the wetness between my legs—as I close my eyes, trying to figure out if I made the wrong move by not letting Costi finish. By not letting that massage turn into so much more. Because I could have easily let him go all night. I’m sure I would have begged him not to stop too.
But I can’t think that way.
I let out a deep breath and toss my pillow under my head. “Fine. No tip for you then.”
I try to even out my breathing as I listen to Costi’s deep breaths.
Is he sleeping?
In our youth, Costi was always a deep sleeper, so I wait a few more minutes until I’m sure he’s asleep and slide the covers off my body.
I move as slow as molasses as I swing my feet to the ground and try not to make a sound as I stand from the bed.
It’s imperative I get a feel for this ship and see how many men are onboard. The thought of Costi’s men wanting to have their way with me worries me, but I need to plan an escape. Like a ninja, I tiptoe to the door and slip through it, leaving Costi sound asleep in the bed.
Seven
Costi
* * *
People change. Most times, in their appearance. Bianca’s appearance is definitely different from that of when she was only thirteen. People change with how they feel, see the world, and how well they adapt to changes brought against them by others.
There’re so many reasons a person changes. A deep sleeper turned light because the sound of his father’s footsteps marching toward his room was warning a severe beating was about to happen.
The click of the door wakes me and I glance over at Bianca’s empty side of the bed. Foolish woman. There’s nowhere she can go. Nothing but the deep blue sea outside these windows. I sit up in bed, sighing. What could she be thinking? The men on this ship are not one to be messed with, and that thought alone has me rushing out of the room.
I move like a ghost through the night, checking out the empty corridors and make my way onto the deck of the ship. I spot Bianca, sitting near the bow, staring up at the stars.
“Shouldn’t be out here all alone,” I say as I sit down next to her.
“I just needed fresh air.”
“Well, we have plenty of air.” The night is pleasant, the waters calm. It’s what we call an eerily dead night.
“I was just listening to the stars.” Bianca leans her head back, gazing up at the twinkling lights in the sky.
“Ah, that’s right. Most people watch the stars, but not you, you listen to them.”
She giggles softly. “They speak to me.”
“And what do they say?”
I can’t help but appreciate the way her dark hair flows around her face, highlighting her exquisite features. Her creamy skin is perfect, like a mixture of milk and honey.
Her green eyes fall on me, and she gives me a wistful smile. “That there’s still good in you. That you’re not this demon you pretend to be.”
I rub at the stubble on my chin, listening to her words. If she only knew the truth about me. About my plans. “Sometimes stars can lie to people. You shouldn’t trust them.”
“Why not? They see everything from up there.”
“Exactly. So they feel they’re all knowing. They feel they control the world, but they don’t.”
“I trust them. Why don’t you?”
“My father taught me to chart using only the stars. How to know where I’m going as the stars lead the way. Well, sometimes they shift. Sometimes I follow them and it’s like they’re playing their own sick little game, steering me off course. I don’t trust them. I don’t trust anyone.”
