Page 23 of Chain Me
The bar creaks under my grip. Blood pounds in my ears as she continues her workout, each movement deliberate, designed to drive me insane. The fabric of her pants stretches thin across her thighs with every step.
My jaw clenches so hard it aches. The urge to grab her, bend her over the nearest surface, and take her right here threatens to shatter what's left of my control. I force myself through another set, metal cold against my palms, but I can't stop watching her reflection in the mirror.
She knows exactly what she's doing. Another soft grunt escapes her lips as she increases the resistance again. The sound mirrors ones I've pulled from her before, and my muscles coil tight with the need to hear more.
The bar slams back into the rack with enough force to make her jump. But she doesn't stop. If anything, her movements become more fluid and more provocative. Testing my limits. Pushing to see how far I'll let her go before I snap.
I grip the edge of the bench, knuckles white. Every cell in my body screams to close the distance between us. To remind her exactly who's in charge here. My cock strains painfully against the fabric as she gets off the stepper but bends to adjust her shoelace, giving me a perfect view of her ass.
I release a growl and close the distance in three long strides. My hand wraps around her waist, yanking her back against my chest. She gasps as my other hand finds her throat, not squeezing, just holding.
“You think you're clever, don't you?” I breathe against her ear. “Putting on this little show. Testing my control.”
My grip tightens fractionally on her waist as she squirms. The movement presses her back more firmly against my straining arousal. A small whimper escapes her lips.
“I warned you about playing games,” I growl, nipping at her earlobe. “About pushing me. Did you think I wouldn't notice every provocative move you made? Every deliberate sound?”
Her pulse races beneath my palm. The scent of her sweat and shampoo fills my senses. Makes my head spin with want.
“I see right through you,kiska. Through every manipulative little trick.” My lips brush the shell of her ear. “But here's what you don't understand—I'm not some weak man you can wrap around your finger. I'm the one in control here.”
She shudders as my thumb traces circles on her hip.
“Always remember that.”
I spin her around and push her face down over the weight bench. I see her eyes go wide in the mirror opposite as I hook my finger in the waistband of her pants, dragging them down to expose her ass. Smooth, creamy skin begs to be touched. I give it a sharp slap, relishing the way she gasps.
“This is what happens when you test me.” Another slap, harder this time, leaving a pink mark on her skin.
She squirms beneath my hand, trying to get away, but I hold her firmly in place, lining up another blow.
“Please, Erik.” Her voice shakes. “Don't do this.”
But my blood pounds in my veins as the need to remind her who's in control makes my head spin. I deliver another sharp smack, loving the way her skin reddens under my hand. She bucks against me, a soft cry escaping her lips.
“You think I won't do this again? Won't spank that beautiful ass of yours for being so fucking insubordinate?” I punctuate each word with a slap, raining them down as her cries fill the room. “You need to learn your lesson, Katarina.”
She's all soft curves and vulnerable skin beneath me. I squeeze her hip, noting the way she shudders. Her cries are like a drug, fueling my need to dominate and possess. But each slap stokes the fire burning between my legs, demanding release.
She's squirming under my hand, her ass cheeks turning a delicious shade of pink, and her cries are echoing off the gym walls. When I try to drag her pants down further, she suddenly bucks and twists in my grip.
“Stop.” Her voice is breathless, panting. “Please, Erik, I?—”
But she can't finish as I give her another sharp smack, this time on the back of her thighs. My control is gone, and all that's left is the need to claim what's mine.
With a rough yank, I drag her yoga pants and thong down, baring her completely. Her sharp gasp as the cool air hits her exposed skin pierces through me. I step back to take in the sight of her, spread out over the bench, thighs shaking, pussy dripping.
“You don't want me to stop.” My voice is hoarse with need. My cock pulses, straining against my shorts, leaving little doubt about what I want. “Look at how wet you are,kiska. Your pussy is dripping, desperate to be filled and fucked.”
Her head shakes in denial, but she can't lie to me now. Not with the evidence of her desire pooling between her thighs. I stroke myself through my shorts, moaning at the friction. I'm so hard it's painful, every muscle coiled tight with the need to thrust into her warmth.
I crowd her back, pressing my chest against her, letting her feel just how much I want this. “Tell me you don't want me to stop.”
“I—” Her words catch in her throat, but there's no denying what her body wants. She's soaking wet, her cries turning me on even more. “Erik, I?—”
I silence her with a hand over her mouth. “Tell me. Say the words.”Her body arches into mine as I continue, “Say you want my cock, Katarina. That you need it buried deep inside you.”
She writhes under my touch, her pants a whisper of a plea. “I want it. Please, Erik, I need?—”
