Page 32 of Chain Me
His mouth is hot and wet, his tongue relentless as it dances over me. I'm on the edge, teetering, but he pulls back, denying me release.
“Please,” I whisper again, my voice hoarse. “Let me come.”
“Not yet,” he murmurs. “I want you desperate.”
And he keeps his word. His mouth and fingers tease me relentlessly, bringing me to the brink time and again, only to pull back and leave me gasping into the void. The pleasure-pain blurs my senses, and I'm floating, every nerve alight, burning for release.
I feel his fingers slip inside me, filling me, his thumb finding that spot that makes my vision spark with white-hot need.“Erik,” I sob, my body bowing off the bed, my wrists straining against the cuffs. “I'm going to come.”
But even as the words leave my mouth, he withdraws, his tongue lapping at my juices. “Not yet,” he growls. “Not until I say so.”
I whimper, my body shaking with the effort of holding back. My muscles clench, begging for release.
“Please,” I whisper again, my voice raw, my throat dry. “Erik, please.”
“Beg me,” he commands, his voice hard. “Beg me to let you come.”
Pride wars with my need, but in the end, there's no contest. “Please, Erik,” I beg. “Let me come. I need to come.”
He sucks hard on my clit, his fingers pumping inside me. “Come for me then,” he growls. “Come all over my fingers.”
His words send me hurtling over the edge, and I scream as the orgasm rips through me. White-hot pleasure explodes behind my eyes, my body convulsing as wave after wave washes over me. I'm dimly aware of Erik's murmurs, his hands stroking my hair and my back, gently bringing me back down to earth.
As the fog of pleasure clears, reality comes rushing back. I'm lying in Erik Ivanov's bed, naked, marked by his mouth and hands. I'm his captive, his enemy. And yet, in this moment, I feel painfully, beautifully alive.
I'm still floating on the clouds when I feel him, hard and thick, pressing against me. I arch my back, seeking more contact, moaning as he fills me in one smooth stroke. It's too much, too soon, and I cry out, my body overwhelmed.
“Shh, you'll wake the whole house.” His voice is a rough whisper in my ear, his breath hot against my skin. But he doesn't stop; he can't stop now. He starts moving, his hips snapping as he pulls out and thrusts back in, claiming me with a rhythm that leaves me breathless.
It’s almost impossible to catch my breath, my body humming from my release. “Erik,” I moan. “Please, I can't...”
He doesn't slow down; instead, he reaches between us, his fingers finding my swollen clit. “Come for me again,” he growls. “Let me feel you squeeze my cock.”
His rough words, the pleasure he's giving, it's too much. My walls clench around him, and I explode, screaming as I come apart at the seams. I'm squirming, my hips bucking off the bed as he continues to thrust, his fingers driving me insane.
“That's it, baby,” he groans, his voice hoarse. “Squirt all over my cock. You're so fucking tight, my filthy little slut.”
I can feel my face flushing. I'm drowning in sensation, and I come again, my arousal coating his cock.
Erik swears, his hips stuttering as he loses control. “Fuck, you're going to make me come,” he grits out. “Take it, take my cock, you filthy Lebedev whore.”
His words spark something dark within me, something that revels in degradation. I want to feel him lose control, to know that I've reduced him to this: a man driven wild by need.
He's thrusting erratically now, chasing his release. “You like it when I call you a slut and whore, don't you?” he pants. “You like being tied up and fucked by an Ivanov.”
I nod frantically, my body on fire. “Yes, yes, please,” I beg, my voice thick with need.
“Say it,” he demands, his voice harsh. “Tell me what you are.”
“I'm a slut. I'm your slut,” I cry out, the words tearing from my throat. “Please, Erik, please let me come again.”
“Come then,” he grunts, slamming into me. “Come on my cock, my beautiful, brilliant slut.”
His command pushes me over the edge, and I shatter, my body convulsing as pleasure devastates me. I feel Erik stiffen, his cock pulsing as he finds his release, his hot seed filling me. Hegroans my name, his body shaking as he spills himself into me, his fingers bruising my hips as he holds on.
We're both panting, our hearts hammering in our chests. Erik reaches up, gently pulling the blindfold away, and meets my eyes. “Katarina,” he breathes, his voice filled with wonder, as if he's seeing me for the first time.
Our gazes lock, an unspoken understanding passing between us. At this moment, we're not enemies. We're just two people who have found solace in each other's arms, a brief respite from the cold, cruel world outside.
