Page 19 of Chain Me
She hesitates, then gives an almost imperceptible shake of her head. “Don't stop.”
A surge of satisfaction courses through me. I trail kisses up her thigh, tasting the salt of her skin. Her fingers tighten in the blankets as I draw closer, but she doesn't pull away.
Finally, I press a kiss to her cunt, my breath stirring her curls. Her hips buck slightly, and a strangled sound escapes her throat. I smile against her skin, tracing patterns with my tongue before settling into a steady rhythm.
Her hands fly to her mouth, muffling her noises as her whole body arches off the bed. I grip her hips to hold her in place, devouring her with hungry strokes of my tongue. She's wet and warm and perfect, her flavor exploding across my senses.
The noises she tries to muffle only spur me on, a physical testament to the pleasure I'm giving her. I feast on her, letting her taste consume me, forgetful of everything but this act of worship between her thighs.
When her climax hits, she's sobbing my name, fingers tangling in my hair. I hold her through it, kissing her softly now, savoring the lingering tremors of her release.
As her breath starts to even out, I trail light kisses up her body until I reach her lips. She tastes different now, fuller, with a hint of the sea.
Her eyes drift open, that emptiness from earlier replaced by something else entirely. Confusion? Arousal? My thumb traces the swollen lower lip I'd bitten during our kiss.
“Better?” I ask, already knowing the answer.
Katarina's mouth opens slightly, but no words come out. Her eyes search mine, questions swirling in their green depths.
Finally, she nods, a small, bemused smile playing on her lips. “Better.”
I rise from the bed, straightening my clothes. My body aches with need, but duty calls. Control matters more than desire.
Her hand catches my wrist. “Where are you going?”
I turn, studying her flushed face and mussed hair. “Back to my post.”
Katarina's fingers tighten for a moment, her eyes darkening with want. But she doesn't ask or beg. Her pride won't let her voice what her body clearly longs for.
She releases my wrist, jaw clenching as she looks away. Anger radiates from her in waves—at me, at herself, at this whole situation.
I adjust my weapons belt, watching her curl away from me. Her shoulders are rigid with tension, and she yanks the blanket over herself.
The sight stirs something in my chest, but I push it down. This is how it has to be. I'm her captor, not her lover. No matter what just happened between us.
9
KATARINA
The door clicks open, and Erik's broad frame fills the doorway. These past few days, his icy demeanor has matched the chill that creeps through the concrete walls. The warmth from our encounter feels like a distant dream.
“You have more freedom now.” His voice carries no emotion. “The compound is secure. You can move around, use the gym, library.”
I cross my arms, keeping my face neutral despite the flutter in my chest at the prospect of escape from these four walls. “Thank God. I was going insane, trapped in here with you.”
His jaw tightens. The slight tell makes satisfaction curl through me.
“There are still rules.” Erik's gaze pins me in place. “No phones. No computers. No contact with the outside. And you'll have an escort at all times.”
“As long as it's not you.” I meet his stare, letting my lip curl. “I'd rather deal with your brothers than spend another minute watching you brood.”
Something flashes in his dark eyes. His fingers flex at his sides before he forces them still.
“Viktor will show you around in an hour.” He turns to leave. “Try anything, and you'll be back in here.”
“Can't wait.” The sarcasm drips from my words.
The door closes behind him with a decisive click. I press my palm against my racing heart, trying to slow its erratic beat. Freedom, even limited, means opportunities. Chances to learn the layout, study their routines, and find weaknesses.
