Page 30
Story: Chain Me
My arms tighten around her waist, keeping her in place. The scent of her—something uniquely Katarina—draws me in. I bury my face in the curve of her neck, breathing her in. My lips brush against her pulse point.
“I can't get enough of you.” The confession slips out, raw and honest against her skin.
Her body tenses in my lap, hands pressing firmly against my chest. “Let me go.” The warmth in her voice has vanished.
I loosen my grip, and she slides off my lap, putting distance between us. The loss of her warmth hits like a physical blow.
“We can't do this.” She wraps her arms around herself, refusing to meet my eyes. “This isn't—it makes no sense.”
“Katarina—”
“No.” She grabs our plates from the table, movements sharp and agitated. “You're my captor. I'm your prisoner. That's all this is.” Her voice cracks. “That's all this can be.”
“You don't believe that.”
She yanks open the dishwasher, shoving dishes inside with more force than necessary. “What I believe doesn't matter. You're an Ivanov. I'm a Lebedev. We're enemies.”
I cross the kitchen in four strides, caging her against the counter. Her breath catches as I plant my hands on either side of her.
“I don't want to stay away from you.” My voice comes out rough, desperate. Heat radiates from her body, drawing me closer. “I've tried. God knows I've tried.”
She turns in my arms, pressing her back against the counter. Those green eyes finally meet mine, filled with a storm of emotions I can't decipher.
“Then you're a fool.”
“Maybe.” I lean closer until our breaths mingle. “But I'm done fighting this.”
I brush my lips against her ear, feeling her shiver. “Come to my room tonight. Let me show you what it could be like between us. No games, no power plays.”
Her breath hitches. “Erik...”
“Stay with me. All night.” My fingers trace her jawline. “In my bed, where I can hold you properly.”
She tilts her head back, studying my face. Conflict wars in those green eyes—desire battling with distrust, longing with logic.
“This is dangerous.” Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“Everything about us is dangerous.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Come anyway.”
Her hands fist in my shirt, neither pushing away nor pulling closer. “Your brothers...”
“Don't worry about them.” I cup her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “Let me show you how good we could be together.”
She closes her eyes, drawing a shaky breath. When they open again, something has shifted in their depths. “Your room. Not mine.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Yes.”
“And if I change my mind?”
“Then you leave. No questions asked.” I brush my thumb across her lower lip. “I want you willing, Katarina. All of you.”
She nods slowly, decision crystallizing in her expression. “When?”
“Now?” The word comes out rougher than intended. “Is that too soon?”
Katarina's fingers trail down my chest. “No. Now is perfect.”
I take her hand, leading her from the kitchen into the private wing of the compound. My heart pounds against my ribs as we pass through corridors she's never seen. Each step feels weighted with significance.
“I can't get enough of you.” The confession slips out, raw and honest against her skin.
Her body tenses in my lap, hands pressing firmly against my chest. “Let me go.” The warmth in her voice has vanished.
I loosen my grip, and she slides off my lap, putting distance between us. The loss of her warmth hits like a physical blow.
“We can't do this.” She wraps her arms around herself, refusing to meet my eyes. “This isn't—it makes no sense.”
“Katarina—”
“No.” She grabs our plates from the table, movements sharp and agitated. “You're my captor. I'm your prisoner. That's all this is.” Her voice cracks. “That's all this can be.”
“You don't believe that.”
She yanks open the dishwasher, shoving dishes inside with more force than necessary. “What I believe doesn't matter. You're an Ivanov. I'm a Lebedev. We're enemies.”
I cross the kitchen in four strides, caging her against the counter. Her breath catches as I plant my hands on either side of her.
“I don't want to stay away from you.” My voice comes out rough, desperate. Heat radiates from her body, drawing me closer. “I've tried. God knows I've tried.”
She turns in my arms, pressing her back against the counter. Those green eyes finally meet mine, filled with a storm of emotions I can't decipher.
“Then you're a fool.”
“Maybe.” I lean closer until our breaths mingle. “But I'm done fighting this.”
I brush my lips against her ear, feeling her shiver. “Come to my room tonight. Let me show you what it could be like between us. No games, no power plays.”
Her breath hitches. “Erik...”
“Stay with me. All night.” My fingers trace her jawline. “In my bed, where I can hold you properly.”
She tilts her head back, studying my face. Conflict wars in those green eyes—desire battling with distrust, longing with logic.
“This is dangerous.” Her voice comes out barely above a whisper.
“Everything about us is dangerous.” I rest my forehead against hers. “Come anyway.”
Her hands fist in my shirt, neither pushing away nor pulling closer. “Your brothers...”
“Don't worry about them.” I cup her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. “Let me show you how good we could be together.”
She closes her eyes, drawing a shaky breath. When they open again, something has shifted in their depths. “Your room. Not mine.”
My heart pounds against my ribs. “Yes.”
“And if I change my mind?”
“Then you leave. No questions asked.” I brush my thumb across her lower lip. “I want you willing, Katarina. All of you.”
She nods slowly, decision crystallizing in her expression. “When?”
“Now?” The word comes out rougher than intended. “Is that too soon?”
Katarina's fingers trail down my chest. “No. Now is perfect.”
I take her hand, leading her from the kitchen into the private wing of the compound. My heart pounds against my ribs as we pass through corridors she's never seen. Each step feels weighted with significance.
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