Nik told me that even the world's hottest-looking billionaires had their weaknesses - the kind that made them more human. Daria had been his, and if Nik was right, I was Constantijin's weakness.
Constantijin said with icy hauteur, "If you want to go to him---"
"I don't," I interrupted in a small voice, now immensely sorry that I said those words at all.
His body tensed even more. "I don't want to play any fucking games---"
The hurt in my chest spread. Constantijin's face was still a cold blank slate, but in his eyes I still saw pain that he couldn't hide. He really did believe I had chosen Drake over him, and that now I was toying with him. It still shocked me he could think like that of me. I never even had a boyfriend before he came to my life, never ever thought I could lose sleep at the memory of the taste of a man's kisses and the feel of his touch.
He had changed me, claimed me, and ruined me for all the other men in the world. He was irreplaceable. How could he not know that? And how could I have not seen that Constantijin also had his doubts the way I did?
My voice cracked as I spoke. "Constantijin, I'm not playing any games."
He didn't answer.
The silence was intolerable, and I was beginning to appreciate why it had constantly driven Constantijin crazy whenever I used to answer his questions with silence. It just plain sucked.
"I thought it was the best thing to do," I whispered. "Please try to look it from my side. If I had stayed with you that night, people would have started talking about us. And at that time – I couldn't handle it. I couldn't take the risk. I didn't want anyone to know because a part of me was still scared. I wanted to protect myself – in case you left me, no one would know."
Yet Constantijin still didn't soften, not even a bit.
"Constantijin, please. You know---"
"Didn't you ever pause to think that maybe I had the same fucking fears, too?" The coldness was gone, but the bitterness that replaced it wasn't any better. "You were the first woman who mattered to me. Didn't I fucking tell you that? Didn't you know---"
"I panicked. I'm sorry, I just panicked." Surely he should know that about me by now? Panic was my freaking middle name, and I had a tendency to experience it every time I encountered something I didn't understand. Like guys, sex, and love – in any order.
He spat something in Dutch, which sounded painful enough to hurt.
Tears stung my eyes. "I wouldn't have left if I had known you'd feel so strongly about it." My voice shook as I continued, "Constantijin, you screwed me up twice. Now, I screwed up – but not as bad as your screw-ups. Are you not going to forg---" I couldn't say anything anymore, not with Constantijin's lips on mine.
The tears fell freely even as I weaved my arms around his neck, bringing my body as close to his as I could. The relief of being back in his arms was almost painful, and I couldn't stop myself from shaking.
His fingers suddenly tightened around my hair, and then Constantijin was using it to pull my head back with gentle firmness, forcing me to look up to him. "You chose him over me," he growled.
Cupping his face, staring straight at his silver eyes, I said feelingly, "I didn't. I never did and I never would. I'll always choose you over any other guy." Then I pulled his head down so I could rain kisses all over his face.
It was scary and exhilarating, the way my world had suddenly found itself revolving around Constantijin.
Almost impatiently, he took my chin and covered my lips with another breathtaking kiss, his tongue entering my mouth just as his hands spanned my waist and pulled me towards him. I gasped against his tongue when his fingers started a tantalizingly sensual trail on the curves of my body before lingering on the undersides of my breasts.
He reared back abruptly, making me look up at him in confusion. "Did you do it to make me feel jealous?" He pinched my nipples at the last word.
I shuddered even as I protested, "No."
He pinched my nipples again. "I don't think I believe you." But this time, there was a smile in his eyes as he spoke. He was back to the wickedly teasing Constantijin I knew and loved.
I couldn't help smiling, too, even as I said, "Well, now that you've---aaah." Constantijin had suddenly lowered his head, sucking and biting my nipple through the thin silk of my gown. I sank my fingers in his hair as I lifted myself towards him, loving and missing the feel of his tongue caressing my body. By the time he moved to my other nipple, I was bucking helplessly against him, unable to control my response.
And then it was over.
Blinking at Constantijin, I stammered, "Wha-why?"
He was breathing hard, but there was a gleam in his eyes that made me catch my breath. It was so … wicked. Almost playfully so, and Constantijin in a playful mood was enough to make even the grouchiest spinster swoon. "Punishment."
My eyebrows shot up. "Punishment?"
"All this time, Yanna, you had me following your every order like I was a fucking slave. You made me fucking court you, fucking ignore that other men could talk to you without knowing you already belonged to someone else, and when you were finally mine, you wanted to keep it a fucking secret. If I could replace you, I would. But I fucking can't!"
I breathed unevenly, "Constantijin, are you saying that this time you didn't sleep with the woman I saw with you on TV?" It was my greatest fear, something I couldn't even share with my friends. I didn't want them to know that I might just be weak enough to still take Constantijin back even if he had slept with another woman...again.
He glared at me. "Did I not just say so? Is that so fucking hard to understand?"
Words failed me, and I could only stare at him helplessly. Didn't he see how fucking hard that would be to understand...for everyone? He was Constantijin Kastein. The last time we had a fight, he did replace me. In his mind, his bed, his life. But this time he didn't. He couldn't. Another smile fought its way to my lips, but I did my best to put it off, the same way I was doing my hardest not to let him know how I was doing a crazy happy dance inside my mind.
He had been faithful.
There was a time when he would have taken another woman to his bed just to spite me. But this time - now that he actually had a semblance of a reason to do so - he didn't. Constantijin chose to be faithful to me even though we both knew every woman in this party – and outside it – would have done anything just to have one night with him. The realization was enough to make me forget all the heartbreak he had caused me. I no longer cared about the bimbo I saw with him on TV or the fact that I practically had to crawl back to him begging before we could be together again.
One day, I promised myself, it would be different between us. One day, he wouldn't be able to wait for so long because he'd find life as unbearable as I did if we weren't together. One day, Constantijin would feel like that and more because that was how I felt about him.
"Stop looking at me like that," he suddenly snapped, making me jump in surprise.
"Wha-how am I looking at you?"
"Like you want to fucking eat me."
I blurted out, "But I do."
Constantijin's eyes flared wide.
Shit – did I really just say that?
Me, the oldest virgin in the state of Florida? Me, the only woman whom the Netherlands' #1 Playboy still wasn't able to, well, fuck?
Spinning around, I almost tumbled out of my heels in my haste to walk away. I didn't want to be around when he got over his shock. If he did, I was dead. I said nervously, "It's, umm, really late and I still have to get to work early tomorrow---"
"Yanna."
And that was it. I was dead now. Why did my name on his lips sound so irresistible? I slowly turned around, cheeks flushed in embarrassment.
He beckoned me to come forward, and like a puppet I did so, stopping only when I was just inches away.
Without warning, Constantijin cupped my sex, his fingers delving deep until he was practically pushing them inside me, a bunch of fabric caught between his fingers and my now aching folds.
I gasped.
He started to stroke me, gently and seductively, his silvery gaze burning with so much passion it made my throat dry. Every touch of his fingers made me feel like he was closer and closer to devouring me. And I wanted him to.
"Do you really want to eat me?"
"Yes?" It came out as a gasp as well, a strangled one.
"Can I eat you first?"
I didn't want to answer. It was too embarrassing.
"Yanna."
Oh God. Why did his Dutch accent always bring out the slut in me? I whimpered, "Yes."
"Did you miss me?"
"Yes." I said it simply, without artifice.
Constantijin's fingers tightened around my sex, his gaze burning even more brightly, like silver caught on fire. "Tell me you won't deny me anymore. When I say we will let everyone know about us, you won't argue."