My legs shifted wider,knowing exactly how much to reveal.
Her gaze snapped back to me, sharp and cold.
"Open your legs."
I laughed softly, biting my lip.
"They're already open, Bianca. What, you want me to show you everything?"
She moved closer, voice low and dangerous.
"Wider. I want to see all of you."
She pressed her lips to my neck, a slow, heated kiss.
"Don't think you can tease me, mami. I'm the one who gets to fuck with you," she whispered, voice thick with heat.
~
She entered the house under the guise of duty, tasked with the care of innocence.
Yet beneath the veneer of obligation, desire simmered, subtle and relentless.
In the delicate balance between control and surrender,
she discovered that longing doesn't blur boundaries, it erases them.
Veronika Koroleva Petrovna-Moscow's untouchable queen. The wealthiest, most powerful woman in Russia. A name that drips with arrogance, feared as much as it is revered.
With a single glance, she ensnares. A presence so sharp it cuts.
To her, people are nothing but pawns-disposable, forgettable, irrelevant. Trust is a currency too expensive to waste. Loneliness is not a curse; it is a necessity. No parents, no attachments, no weaknesses.
Begging? Pleading? Nyet. That is beneath her.
Luciana "La Reina" Monteserra-Madrid's deadliest shadow. A queen of ruin and carnage, cloaked in elegance. Cold. Calculating. Lacking even the pretense of empathy.
She does not ask. She takes. What she touches, she owns. What she claims, she keeps.
No one defies her. No one escapes her grasp.
But Veronika?
Veronika was the exception. The one thing she could never own.