Page 16 of Chain Me

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Page 16 of Chain Me

Gradually, the world revolves back into focus. My legs are boneless, and my body is sated for the first time in months.

Erik's weight rests against my back, his breath evening out. His arms wrap around my waist, drawing me against his chest as he peppers kisses along my shoulder.

And in that moment, with his body still joined with mine, something shifts between us. A crack in the wall he's built around himself.

My legs tremble as Erik withdraws, leaving me empty and cold. The loss of his touch hits like a physical blow. One moment, his heat surrounds me, and the next, there's nothing. Suddenly he’s putting his fixing his clothes and striding to the position by the door.

His face is a mask of stone again, that carefully constructed wall back in place. As if the last twenty minutes never happened. As if he hadn't just taken me against the bathroom door with savage intensity.

My body aches in places I didn't know could ache. Bruises bloom on my wrists and my hips, marking where his fingersdug into my flesh. The wetness of our combined releases is impossible to deny between my thighs. Yet, Erik stands there like a statue, his eyes fixed on some distant point.

I stumble to the bed on shaky legs, pulling the covers around me. The sheets feel rough against my sensitized skin. Every movement reminds me of what we just did—what I let him do to me. What I begged him to do.

Heat crawls up my cheeks as I remember the filthy words that spilled from my lips. The way I arched into his touch, desperate for more.

I close my eyes, willing sleep to come. But my mind races, replaying every moment. The way his hands felt on my skin. The growl in his voice when he?—

No. I can't think about this. Can't let myself remember how good it felt to surrender to him. He's the enemy. This was a mistake.

But sleep eludes me. My body still thrums with aftershocks, and Erik's presence by the door is a tangible weight in the room. I can feel his eyes on me now, though I refuse to look.

What have I done?

8

ERIK

Ipace the hallway outside her room, my muscles coiled tight with tension. The memory of last night is burned into my veins—the way she yielded and fought all at once. My hands still remember the curve of her hips, the marks I left...

Fuck. I need to focus. She's a prisoner, nothing more.

But the mere thought of entering that room again undoes me.

“You look like shit.” Alexi's voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts.

I turn to face him, noting the way he shifts his weight from foot to foot. Something's off about his demeanor.

“What do you want?” My tone comes out harsher than intended.

“Just checking if you're...” He runs a hand through his already messy hair. “You know. Okay.”

The pieces click. My stomach drops as I study his uncomfortable expression. “You saw.”

“The feeds, yeah.” He won't meet my eyes. “Look, I wasn't trying to... I mean, I was doing my usual security check and?—”

“Delete it.” The words come out as a growl.

“Already did. But Erik...” He finally looks at me. “This isn't like you. Losing control like that.”

“I haven't lost control.” The lie tastes bitter.

“Right.” His skeptical tone makes my jaw clench. “That's why you're standing out here instead of starting your shift. Because you're totally in control.”

I slam him against the wall before I can stop myself, proving his point. “Stay out of it.”

“Just... don't let her get in your head.” He straightens his jacket after I release him. “She's dangerous in more ways than one.”

“It won't happen again.” I straighten my shoulders, squaring off against my brother's knowing look. “I've got this under control.”


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