Hearts of Darkness: A Valentine's Day Bully Romance Collection

by Joanna Mazurkiewicz

  “I told you,” he murmured. “It’s an introduction.”

  “You’re asserting your dominance,” Celeste disagreed, and her instincts screamed that she was being an idiot, she should just shut up. But either he’d short circuited her brain or the adrenaline pounding through her made her bold.

  Konstantin laughed, a rich, rolling sound. “This is not dominance. I can show you dominance if you like.”

  Celeste shook her head hard and fast, but her pussy clenched around his finger. She felt the curve of his smile against her skin and her stomach dropped. What would he do? Fear and pleasure blurred together until she was shaking hard. “No,” she breathed.

  Konstantin caught her jaw again, guided her face until their eyes met. “No? Is that why your cunt throbbed? Because you don’t want me to dominate you?”

  Celeste’s eyes flew wide, her chest heaving with every breath.

  “Tell the truth,” he said, and his lure was so strong that Celeste struggled for breath, little shocks moving through her tongue.

  The resistance charm didn’t break, her will wasn’t stripped from her, but she felt herself becoming pliant. Or maybe that was the pleasure. “I can’t,” she admitted.

  “Can’t tell the truth, or can’t tell me no?”

  Celeste’s eyes slid shut, her face burning. “Can’t tell you no.”

  Konstantin laid another kiss on her shoulder. “Do you want to be my plaything?” Her pussy contracted. “Your cunt says yes, but what about you?”

  Celeste shook all over, but getting close to him... If she was going to find the sirens’ downfall anywhere, it would be close to Konstantin. If she was going to get justice for their human victims, she’d be stupid to refuse this offer.

  And it will indulge your darkness, another voice whispered. It will give you the thing you need but are too cowardly to ask of the boring, vanilla men you bring home.

  Celeste shut out the words. That wasn’t why. This was for justice.

  And yet...

  Konstantin’s thumb circled her clit, his finger thrusting into her pussy, and her eyes rolled back, her chest hitching.

  “Yes,” she forced out.

  “Eyes on the stage, then, Princess,” Konstantin murmured, laying another kiss on her shoulder.

  Celeste swallowed and fixed her eyes on the play, on the sea of heads and shoulders in front of her, all of them oblivious to the prince who’d cut a slit in her skirt and thrust his hand in her underwear.

  She hated it.

  She ... liked it.

  But no, she hated it; she hated him. She had to. He was a siren, and a prince—one of the worst. He was a monster.

  But the monster’s fingers sent sparks through her body and it felt divine. “I’m going to let you cum,” he said in a low growl, making Celeste’s breathing hitch, “and you’re going to follow me to my office, get down on your knees, and take as much of my cock down your throat as you can. Aren’t you, Princess?”

  Celeste shuddered. Konstantin’s tongue flicked her throat, tasting the sweat that had broken out at his words. His command. The worst part was ... there was barely any compulsion in his words this time. The damage had already been done.

  But she could walk away. If she got through this, she could pretend to sleep while the court went to bed, and she could sneak away. She’d been an idiot to think she could bring these monsters, these gods, to their knees. They were so much more than human. Even with a resistance charm, she was in extreme danger.

  She just had to get through this one night. It was a mantra, a plea. Let me get through this night.

  “Yes,” she whispered, and felt his hum of pleasure through her whole body.

  Her stomach knotted around itself, a mess of panic and nerves and dread, but she stopped feeling it as he began fucking her with his fingers for real. Before had been a slow, sensuous rhythm, but now his thumb worked her clit harder and faster, dragging a series of gasps from her as his finger pumped in and out of her before he added another, her pussy fluttering around them.

  Someone was going to see them; someone was going to hear her stifled cries. She panted for breath, waiting for someone to notice, to sneer at her, to leer or glare or whatever else a person would do when they saw a woman being fingered in public. God, there were a hundred people in this room. What if they all saw...?

  “Eyes on the stage,” Konstantin repeated, his arm tightening around her middle so she was flush against him, the hard length of his erection against her ass through the tulle. “Are you close?”

  Celeste wanted to shake her head, wanted to lie, to hiss that she would never cum for him. But she was. And it was almost over. She nodded fast, fingernails biting into her palms as his fingers thrust with more force.

  “Say my name, Princess, when you cum.”

  Celeste shook her head.

  “No?”

  “No,” she managed to whisper, but she was so, so close, most of her focus on the climax about to roar through her body.

  “You agreed to be my plaything, Princess,” he murmured. “Which makes your every orgasm belong to me. Remember who gave you this one, and say my name.”

  “Or what?” she breathed, her eyes screwed shut and her body tightening, her every breath shorter.

  “Or I’ll repeat the process until you get it right,” he said against her ear. “I’ll make you cum, and cum, and cum, and eventually you’ll break and say my name. And I’ll do it right here, in front of my entire court.”

  Celeste shook her head desperately, the idea of being caught, of being seen, the worst thing she could imagine. To have her dark desires, her fucked up mind, exposed for all to see... “No.”

  Konstantin must have heard it in her voice; the plain refusal, the dread. “So that’s your breaking point,” he murmured, his nose skimming her throat.

  “What’s yours?” she dared to gasp.

  But a laugh was his only reply. “The play’s almost over. Unless you want everyone to see what a disgusting princess you really are, you’d better orgasm now.”

  “I can’t ... do it on command,” she exhaled, but his stimulation was more insistent, burning through the fear that had held her back these few minutes.

  “Can’t you?” he mused, brushing a kiss behind her ear. “I think you can, Aloisia White. And you’re going to cum for me now. Right here. Now. Cum on my fingers and prove to me that you’re a dirty, depraved little princess. Prove to me that I’ve chosen my next woman well.”

  Celeste gasped, heat swept her whole body, and she was gone, crying and jerking against him. Only his arm around her waist kept her from collapsing, her legs weak as jelly as she clenched around his fingers again and again, heat and pleasure rushing from her toes all the way to her flushed face. Celeste’s head fell back against Konstantin’s shoulder and for that prolonged moment, it didn’t matter that he’d made her climax in a crowded ballroom as a display of his power and influence. Only sensation and bliss and calm mattered, and it took control of her full body, a sigh expelling from her lungs as tension left her body.

  But then his lips brushed her shoulder and ice water drenched her again. She wrenched away from him, but she was trapped by the iron bar of his arm, and her breathing raced with panic. She’d had an orgasm right there in public, surrounded by people, and as soon as the lights came up, they’d be able to see it in her glazed eyes, her red face, and her guilty expression.

  She lost control of her breathing, the familiar grip of a panic attack rampaging through her. But Konstantin turned her in his arms, snaring her gaze with his dark, fathomless eyes, and when he said, “Calm,” in a soft purr ... she did calm.

  Her eyes flew wide as she looked at him properly, and for a second all panic fell away, the world around them insignificant. All his dark intensity, his dangerous focus, was fixed on her, his black eyes snaring hers and a subtle smile tilting up his lips. And she realised with a sinking heart that for a split second, however it had happened, she’d fallen under his compulsion.
/>
  “Oh god,” she breathed.

  “No one saw,” Konstantin promised, slipping his hand from her underwear and straightening her dress. “And no one will. Follow me, Princess.”

  “Why?” She swallowed as the full weight of his attention fell on her, still predatory but soft now too. “Why me?”

  His head tilted. “Why not you?” The side of his mouth quirked up. “Most women shove me away, or at least try to. But not you. No, you let me touch you.”

  A test. It had been a test. And she’d failed.

  Celeste’s shoulders sank.

  “I’ll only ask as much as you can give.” Konstantin held her gaze. “But I will ask for everything you can give.” His mouth thinned at whatever he read in her face and he sighed. “Come on, I’ll get you a drink.”

  She could have protested, but honestly, she needed a drink. Or several.

  Celeste let Konstantin Morozov lead her away.

  The Prince’s Office

  Celeste clutched the tumbler of whisky in shaky fingers, stood awkwardly in the middle of Konstantin’s office as he poured himself a drink and sank into one of two leather chairs set before a low burning fire. Warm light flickered over the heavy desk and seemingly endless bookcases against the walls, broken only by a window, its curtains pulled closed for the night. The whole space smelled like old paper and leather, an unexpectedly pleasant scent for anything associated with Konstantin Morozov.

  “You can sit down,” Konstantin said, glancing over at her as he leant back in the chair. “If you want to.”

  Celeste swallowed, fear beating against her chest, still on the verge of a panic attack. But he’d told her to be calm, and the worst of the panic had eased, at least for now. She was that susceptible to his compulsion, even with the charm.

  But she was in his office. Surrounded by books and ledgers and, likely, official siren secrets. Things she could use to get justice—or revenge. She was no longer sure which had really brought her here.

  Was Konstantin the one who’d compelled Kimber? Was he the one who shattered her mind? If he was, surely there was something here in his office to bring him to his knees.

  Celeste perched tentatively on the chair opposite him, her fingers white around the glass he’d put in her hands a minute ago. “If I’d said no,” she began, then downed a gulp of the burning liquid for bravery, “would you have stopped?”

  Konstantin watched her with interest, his head cocked to the side. “I told you, I don’t care for forcing women. I’m not interested in weak willed, submissive women either,” he added with a crooked smile that only made him seem more dangerous. And much more handsome. “You interest me, though. Why did you submit to me?”

  Because I’m human and I was scared you’d find out. Because you or one of the other sirens broke my friend and nobody else will do anything about it.

  Celeste shook her head. “I don’t know.” And because his expression darkened in suspicion, she added, “I was scared. You’re ... much more powerful than me.”

  He tilted his head in agreement. “You could have said no.”

  “I did,” Celeste said quietly, glaring down at her drink. “You just put your hand down my skirt.”

  His mouth quirked up, light dancing in his black eyes. “My magic tells me how serious a person is—how stubborn they are, how pliant. If they’re a hundred percent set on something, there’s no point trying to compel them. If they’re not a hundred percent committed, I’m able to change their mind.” The grin he gave her was cocky and sharp and utterly devastating. Celeste’s heart thumped hard. “Most sirens’ magic doesn’t work that way; I doubt yours does.”

  She shook her head as if she had her own magic, as if she wasn’t lying through her teeth.

  “You said no, but you weren’t even ninety percent committed to that word. You were barely halfway there, Princess.”

  Celeste swallowed, her mouth dry. That couldn’t be true. She’d had doubts but ... it wasn’t that bad. She wasn’t that weak, that twisted. Was she? “Why should I believe you?”

  “What do I have to gain by lying?” he replied, that smile still on his face, unfairly distracting. “I’ve already had fun, and you readily agreed to be my plaything. I have what I want.”

  “I wouldn’t say readily,” she muttered, and his grin got wider. She sipped more of her whisky, alarmed to realise she’d drank all of it. Her hands were still trembling.

  “Begrudgingly, then?”

  She nodded, agreeing.

  “And when you came all over my fingers, was that begrudgingly?” His eyes glittered. “I can still hear the little gasps you made. I can still feel your cunt clenching around my fingers. That didn’t feel begrudging to me, Princess.”

  Celeste’s mouth was open, offense pounding through her, but her pussy pulsed. She hated his dirty mouth, hated the carnal smile he gave her and the vulgar promises left unspoken—that he could make her feel that way again, since she’d agreed to be his. “You didn’t give me a choice,” she whispered.

  Konstantin chuckled, a low rolling sound. “You’re no more than fifteen percent committed to that statement.”

  Celeste’s breathing hitched. This was dangerous—his magic. If she said I’m a siren out loud, he’d be able to tell she was lying. She had to be one hundred percent committed when she said everything. Easier said than done. But she could still mislead and lie by omission.

  Konstantin watched her for a long moment as Celeste came close to spiralling. “Most people would be at my feet right now, desperate to earn my approval so some of my wealth and status might fall onto them. But you don’t care about that do you?”

  Celeste shook her head, her heart pounding. Maybe she should have lied, pretended to be interested in money and status, pretended to be a vain siren. But ... he knew when she lied. She had to be upfront with him, even as she played her game.

  It was going to impossible.

  She could still run. She could wait until everyone went to bed and sneak out of the palace. Or ... she could stay and get justice for what they’d done to humans. It all came down to her hatred and her bravery; would they be strong enough to keep her here?

  “You’re here,” Konstantin said quietly, his piercing eyes on her, “because you’re running from something. Aren’t you?”

  Celeste dropped her gaze, frantically searching for something that wasn’t a lie. “I don’t want to talk about why I’m here,” she breathed.

  “What happened to you when you were missing?”

  She faked a flinch. “I don’t want to talk about that, either.”

  “Aloisia, come here,” Konstantin said after a moment, his voice unreadable.

  Celeste glanced up, a sharp breath in her throat. Panic roared through her blood, her hands shaking harder. “Why?”

  He set his glass aside and held out a hand, snaring her gaze until she was short of breath, fear blurring through her.

  Celeste’s heart thumped in her chest. What would he do if she refused? He hadn’t hurt her—yet. He’d compelled her, put his hands on her, but he hadn’t physically hurt her. But would he? She stayed where she was, waiting for him to compel her—so she didn’t have to make the decision herself—but he just sat there, his hand extended.

  And it wasn’t like she could bolt out of the room.

  Celeste swallowed, met his black eyes, and stood.

  She breathed harder with every step, but crossed the space between them, painfully aware of Konstantin’s power. He kept his eyes on her, and when she was close enough to touch, he snared her wrist and tugged her onto his lap.

  Celeste cried out in the second between falling and landing, gasping hard as his arms locked around her. She was still braced to slam into the floor, but after a moment she realised she was stable, safe. With a knuckle, Konstantin tilted her chin until their eyes met again, and his other hand ... his other hand stroked up and down her spine.

  Trying to calm her. Reassure her.

  “You agreed to be mine,
” Konstantin said seriously, tight lines of anger around his eyes. “That position comes with protection. My protection.” He bent and kissed her shoulder, and Celeste froze, scared and confused and not sure what to make of him. “Whoever has hurt you, whoever made you too afraid to talk, you don’t have to fear them now.”

  Celeste glanced away, at once surprised and guilty, wholeheartedly believing his vow to protect her. As long as she obeyed him, she assumed. But still. He thought she’d fled a nightmare, an abuser, and he was promising to keep her safe. For a monster and a siren prince who compelled his way through life and women, it was ... sweet.

  Genuine.

  But he still shattered human minds for fun. He’d still compelled her in the ballroom, still coerced her into agreeing to be his.

  “And what about you?” she whispered, her back tingling where his hand stroked. “Do I need to fear you?”

  “You’d be foolish not to,” he replied, and a pang of fear went through her. “But I have no plans to turn my power on you.” He kissed her shoulder again. “Don’t give me a reason to, and you’ll be fine.”

  “That’s comforting,” she breathed.

  Konstantin laughed, more vibrations than sound. “If you want to keep me happy, Princess, get on your knees.”

  Celeste’s eyes flew wide as she looked at him.

  “I mean it,” he replied, his mouth quirked but his voice serious. “Didn’t I say earlier that you’d follow me to my office and take my cock down your throat?”

  Celeste’s breath caught. He had. She’d forgotten—but he apparently hadn’t. She swallowed, daring to meet his eyes. “Is there any point asking you to be gentle?”

  His dark eyes filled with warmth. “No, Aloisia. But like I said, I’ll never give more than you can take.”

  Celeste laughed, an abrupt sound. “Yeah, I doubt that.” She pushed off his lap, half surprised when he let her go. Her arms wrapped around her middle, she turned to face the bookshelves lining the walls. “I’ve never—taken—anything before. In my throat.” She shoved her shaky hands under her arms. “I think I’ll pass this time, thanks.”