Konstantin’s SUV silently glides on the road as we drive to the club, while I nce at my reflection in the tinted window.


    A strappy red gown clings to my skin, my body entuated by the soft, luxurious fabric. Gently, I adjust the intricate goldce mask he gave me that sits on the bridge of my nose, the anticipation of this evening taking over. It’s one thing to have heard about a ce like this, but a whole other thing to experience it.


    When the car pulls to a stop, the hum of the engine dying away, I peer over at him, face concealed by a simple ck mask as he types something on his cell. Surveying the industrial building in the middle of nowhere, New Jersey, I have no idea what’s waiting for me inside.


    He exits first,ing around to open my door and giving me his hand as I step out. The heels on my feet don’t add enough inches toe close to his towering height, which both intimidates and excites me.


    More than a dozen cars are already parked as we approach the door, where a man in a red devil’s mask taps away at hisptop.


    “Boss,” he greets Konstantin.


    “Privet. This is my wife. Tessa, this is Igor.”


    “Good to meet you.” The man nods, his ent thicker than Konstantin’s.


    “You too.”


    As we head through the ss doors, he presses a button for the elevator, and we ride up in silence. His hand slips into mine, and he brings my knuckles to his lips. I love when he does that.


    The elevator opens, revealing a hallway with a coat check area before we head toward two double doors. The moment we step inside, the atmosphere shifts. Low, colorful lights bathe us in a seductive glow, the music thumping through the speakers with an erotic rhythm.


    “There aren’t any guests here yet,” he says over the music. “It won’t open for another hour.”


    I nce around, eyeing the people in masks and red cors. “And who are they?”


    He pulls me closer, his palms tugging my hips as he stares into my eyes. “That’s my staff. This is what Mira does.” His lips brush my ear as he leans in. “What you would’ve done, if I hadn’t found it impossible to picture you with anyone but me.”


    My arms slip around him, my fingers grazing his back. “Is that where your genius idea of making me your assistant came from?”


    A smirk pulls at his lips, the heat in his gaze scorching me where I stand. “Yes, but my true brilliance came when I made you my wife.”


    I raise a brow, my lips curling yfully. “I think you’re overestimating your brilliance.”


    Hisughter vibrates through me, deep and raspy. “I think you’re underestimating it, katyonak.”


    Something flickers in his irises. A sh of something darker, more intense. But it disappears as quickly as it appeared, leaving me questioning if I even saw it.


    “Come. I want to show you around.” His fingers slide into mine but he makes no attempt to move.


    “Whatever you say, sir.”


    He catches the seductive note in my tone, and with a low groan, his mouth takes mine, urgent and all-consuming. A deep, primal sound slips from him as he drags me flush against him, his hand fisting my hair as he kisses me with an intensity that leaves me breathless. I melt into him as his fingers tangle in my hair, the other hand gripping my jaw and tilting my face as he deepens our connection.


    With the masks on, everything is heightened. Every urge, every desire.


    He pitches back, longing clouding his eyes, his lips still curled in a devilish smile.


    “What was that for?” I breathe.


    “I like it when you call me ‘sir.’ Keep doing that.”


    “Yes, sir.” My giggle fades as I watch his nostrils re, his grip tightening around me, the heat between us intensifying.


    He mutters something under his breath as he leads me down into another section of the club.


    “So, what exactly will I see here?”


    His grin widens. “Just about everything. Every fantasy you can imagine.”


    A surge of warmth shoots through me, the thought of what I might witness or even experience making my body tingle with heightened anticipation. Stepping out of myfort zone is tempting, and if I’m going to explore, it’s him I’d want to test every boundary with.


    We stride down a narrow hallway, the walls lined with fine art and plush, elegant furniture that gives the ce the air of a luxurious home.


    Except it’s not. It’s a sex dungeon.


    My gaze shifts to a room with rings hanging from the ceiling, a tray of toys in the corner, and another with a metal bar attached high up. We pass more rooms, and I can’t seem to look away from the equipment on disy, my curiosity drawing me deeper into this strange, intoxicating world.


    When we stop in front of another area, his eyes shift toward me as I stare at the bench in the center of the room, leather straps attached to the arms and legs. I know exactly what it is: a spanking bench.


    My body instantly ignites, like it knows exactly what I want before I do. Thoughts race through my mind, imagining how it would feel to be strapped to it while he touches me, takes me hard and deep from behind.


    “Do you want to ask me something?”


    It’s like he can read my thoughts, and I wonder if he knows exactly what I’m imagining.


    Keeping myposure, I say, “Have you ever done that to a woman?”


    His lips drift into a faint smile. “Yes.”


    My stomach tightens, my jaw clenching as I try to push away the knot of jealousy twisting inside me. It’s irrational, I know. But it doesn’t make it go away.


    “Did you like it?”


    His knuckles graze my cheek, gentle but electric, and my breath catches. “Yes.”


    My chest tightens even further. “Did she?”


    He chuckles, low and seductive, the sound wrapping around me like a thorny vine. “Ask me what you really want to ask me, Tessa.”


    His hand slides around my back, pulling me into him, his hard body pressing against mine.


    Suddenly, the words stick in my throat. My body pulses, aching for what I can’t bring myself to say. But he doesn’t need my words. He feels it dripping from my skin, written in the way I tremble beneath his gaze.


    His mouth lowers to my ear, breath hot and wicked. “Do you want me to slip off this dress and restrain you, malyshka?”


    The way he says it, low, lethal, makes my body grow taut.


    “Do you want me to leave my mark on your skin?” he goes on. “Shall I do it with my palm…or the whip I favor most?”


    His hand grips my hip hard before pushing me backward until my spine hits the wall with a soft thud. I gasp as he leans in, his body caging mine, dominance rolling off him like a deadly touch.


    “I can lock the door…” His lips brush my cheek. “…and it’ll be just us. Or…I can leave it open. Let them all watch what it looks like when you give in. When you surrenderpletely to me.”


    My throat dries, every inch of my skin burning with untamed and reckless desire.


    “Do you want the pain, Tessa? The pleasure?” His fingers slide down, inching beneath my dress. “Do you want to let go and give me everything?”


    Maybe? Yes? God, stop making me feel so damn good.


    He finds me bare beneath the silk of my dress, his fingers slipping between my thighs. My moan breaks free before I can swallow it, head falling back against the wall as he circles my clit with devastating slowness.


    This is so unfair…


    “I want to watch your skin turn red beneath my palm.” He pushes a finger inside me, and need swirls like a storm. “I want to watch my whip kiss your skin. Hear you beg for my cock. Beg me to fill your tight little cunt until it hurts. Until you’re ruined for anyone else.”


    A second finger joins the first, and my body clenches around him, desperate and greedy.


    “I want to test every one of your limits. Tear through them until there’s nothing left but animalistic need. Then give you more than you ever knew you needed. I want it all with you, Tessa. Only you.”


    My hand flies to the back of his neck, dragging him to me like I’ll shatter if he doesn’t kiss me right now. He lets me take the lead, my mouth grazing his, exhales skimming over those lips I crave too much, and then I crash into him, rough and reckless, unable to stop the way I want him, like I can’t breathe without him.


    This isn’t just lust. It’s ravenousness. Obsession-rivaling madness. The kind of craving that ws at the edge of sanity. The kind I always thought was fiction.


    I’m so d I was wrong.


    Before I even realize what’s happening, we’re in the room, his hands hot against my skin, cupping my breasts with a possessive hunger that has me gasping. His fingers pinch my nipples hard enough to sting, and I wee it.


    I need the pain. Need the edge, the release. He knows that now. Knows exactly how far I’m willing to go.


    Maybe I’ve lost my mind, but deep down, I know this desire is something I’ve always lived with. And right now, it feels like the only sane thing I’ve ever done.


    His fingers slide down my back, finding the zipper of my dress, while the other hand reaches for the door.


    “Leave it open,” I whisper, themand slipping past my lips without thinking.


    He grins, a slow, satisfied smile, before his hands cup my cheeks, pulling me into his gaze. The tenderness of his touch catches me off guard, and before I can react, his lips brush mine with a slowness that drives me wild.


    The kiss deepens, like he’s savoring something sacred. And in this moment, everything else fades—the noise, the confusion, the uncertainty of everything we are.


    All I feel is him.


    When he pulls back, his gaze lingers. Dark. Intense. Burning through me. As if he’s trying to memorize every part of me from the inside out.


    And I let him. Because whatever this is, whatever we’re bing, I don’t want it to stop.


    “I need you to pick a safe word. If at any point you want it to end, all you have to do is say it.”


    The thing he’s offering, control wrapped in consent, presses against my skin. Tension coils in the space between us as I consider it. Am I really doing this? Here? With him? In front of?—


    Before I can fully grasp what’s happening, his hand is on my back again, fingers trailing down my spine as the zipper hums in the stillness of the room.


    With every slow inch, my skin spreads with goose bumps as the straps slide from my shoulders, fabric slipping down my body. His gaze follows the movement, until the dress is pooled at my feet.


    “Have you chosen your word yet?”


    I nod. “Lioness.”


    A small smile flickers across his face. Without another word, he takes my hand and leads me to the bench, each step heavy with the promise of what’s toe.


    “Let me help you up.”


    In one smooth motion, he lifts me, positioning my body with my knees bent, elbows resting on the cool leather, my chest pressed against the surface.


    Vulnerability wraps around me like a second skin as he begins with my ankles, locking them in ce before moving to my wrists.


    I’mpletely spread open. Exposed, restrained, trembling beneath the growing anticipation.


    He steps away toward the armoire, opening it to retrieve something. When he turns, he’s holding a red leather whip. Chills explode across my skin as he drags it slowly up my spine, the leather like a teasing caress, down the curve of my back, tracing every inch with expert precision.


    My breath stutters as it slips lower, gliding between my thighs, brushing over my clit. A sharp jolt of need shoots through me before he strikes my thigh. Hard.


    Instead of pain, a wave of surrender rushes over me, my muscles tightening as my mind and body fight to keep up with the rush of sensations.


    “More, sir.”


    My back arches, submittingpletely to him as he rains a series of strikes across my skin, each one sharper, deeper. The sting of pain twists into something else, something heady and addictive. My body burns with the desire for more.


    “Good girl.” He hisses as he lets the whip glide up my back. “You take it so well.”


    Then a deeper strikends and I cry out. “Thank you, sir.”


    Another strikees, then another, before his hand softly feathers over my throbbing flesh.


    “I think you need a little more of a challenge,” he adds, his voice a low growl.


    What the hell does that mean?


    And why does the thought thrill me more than it terrifies me?


    He drops the whip on a nearby table, and the sharp tter makes me flinch. Then he’s at the armoire again. This time, when he turns around, there’s nothing in his hands…except a ck silk blindfold.


    And that just makes me sweat even more.


    “Remember your safe word.” He slips the blindfold over my eyes, and the world goes ck.


    Instantly, everything heightens. Sound, touch, the racing of my pulse echoing in my ears.


    Warm fingers trail down my spine, dipping lower, sliding between the cheeks of my ass, then teasing my entrance. I arch into the touch, needing it deeper.


    But he avoids my clit entirely, stroking everywhere else until I’m wing the leather, all my attention on the fact that I want him to touch me there. I squirm, the need building, nerves fraying. Then…nothing. His hands disappear, and every inch of my skin throbs in anticipation.


    When something hot drips onto my back, I wince, the feeling satisfying as it cools against me.


    Before I can ask if it was wax, a sudden, powerful vibration jolts across my core, like from a toy. My nails dig into the leather beneath me, a cry ripping from my throat.


    “Oh God?—”


    A deep chuckle resonates from behind me, his warm breath teasing my neck. “Your pussy’s soaked, and I haven’t even gotten to the best part.”


    The vibration intensifies, rolling through me with savage precision. My body bows, teetering on the edge.


    His name rips from my lips. “Konstantin…please!”


    But mercy neveres. The pressure lessens, the teasing pull of the device retreating just enough to drive me mad.


    My hips jerk, chasing the sensation, but he offers nothing but the slow, exquisite torture he knows how to deliver so well. Fingers tangle in my hair, pulling tight while a warm palm strokes over the curve of my ass, deceptively gentle, until the sharp crack of a p rings out. I jump, a whimper slipping free.


    “It’s too bad you can’t see the crowd you’ve drawn.” His words are low and rough. “Your perfect cunt on disy, and they all know it’s mine. Only mine.”


    He spanks me harder, soothing the sting before striking again. And again.


    My body shudders beneath him, on the edge of release, the pleasure too much, yet not enough.


    The vibrations return between my legs, circling my clit in maddening slow rolls. My walls clench, needing this to end, to feel myselfe undone.


    “Please, please, let mee, sir,” I plead with everything I have, and knowing we’re not alone makes it even hotter.


    “Give me everything. Don’t hold back.” His hand curls around my throat while the toy drives me to the brink before he pulls it away.


    “No, no, please, sir…”


    His deep, raspy moan ripples through me. “I like the sound of you begging.”


    A hand cups my center, grinding into me before pping my pussy. The pulsating desperation makes me dizzy. I hear the metallic jingle of his belt, and my blood pumps violently in my veins, hoping he fucks me and fills me.


    But instead, a strikends sharp and hot against my thigh.


    “Yes, God, yes!” My voice breaks with pleasure. “Again.”


    “Again what?”


    “Sir. Again, sir.” The words quiver out of me. I’ve never felt this much pleasure before.


    Another blowes, harder this time, biting into my other thigh. The beltshes over my ass, the backs of my legs, each strike driving me higher and pushing me closer to that edge.


    “Your skin…” he groans behind me. “The most perfect shade of red, katyonak.”


    Something loops around my neck, pulling my head back. I can’t see him, but I don’t have to. I can feel the feral heat in his gaze.


    “Please…I need it.”


    “What do you need?” His breath ghosts over my ear. “Say it.”


    “I-I need toe, sir.”


    “Thene.” With a growl, he drives his cock into me in one brutal thrust, and my body arches, stars bursting behind my eyes.


    He pulls the belt tighter, his grip fierce, his pace ruthless.


    Every time he rams into me, I cry out, unable to control myself. I shudder as the wand returns, pressed mercilessly at my clit. The orgasm rips through me, shattering, uncontroble, as I squirt all over him, legs shaking, vision going white at the edges.


    “That’s it,e on. More.” He ms into me. “Show me how you belong to me, wife.”


    I can’t stop. My body won’t let me. The more Ie, the more I need to again. My hips move on instinct, seeking another release.


    Heughs knowingly. “Don’t worry. I’m not stopping. Not until you beg me to. And even then, I’ll keep fucking you until your body breaks beneath me. Because that’s what you need.”


    And he’s right. I never knew how badly I needed this. Not just toe, but to let go. To surrenderpletely. Not to share control, but to hand it over entirely. To lose myself in the wreckage and be reborn through it.


    I needed more than just a fucking. I needed to be wrecked. Needed the pain to cleanse both my body and soul. And that’s what he’s giving me.


    His body punishes mine with perfect rhythm, unforgiving and skilled. When the wand returns, another climax detonates through me, even harder than thest.


    And if Mira or his brothers are watching? I couldn’t care less.


    All that matters is this. Him. The way he breaks me apart and puts me back together.


    Over and over again.