Page 42 of Chain Me

His hand maintains its iron grip on my wrists above my head, the other supporting my weight as he pounds into me. The dual sensation of restraint and fullness makes my head spin.

“Two days,” he growls against my throat, punctuating each word with a thrust. “Two days thinking about nothing but this. About being inside you.”

His confession triggers something primal in me. I arch against him, meeting each thrust with desperate hunger. My breasts slide against his chest, nipples hardened and oversensitive.

“Tell me you missed me,” he demands, slowing his pace torturously.

I bite my lip, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

Erik stills, completely buried to the hilt inside me. “Tell me.”

“I missed you,” I whisper, the truth spilling out before I can stop it. “I missed this.”

A triumphant gleam lights his eyes as he rewards my confession with a particularly deep thrust that hits exactly where I need him. My head falls back against the tile with a thud, a moan tearing from my throat.

“Again,” I beg, shame forgotten in the face of pure need.

He complies, angling his hips to hit that perfect spot repeatedly. The pressure builds low in my belly, a coiling tension that threatens to snap at any moment.

Erik releases my wrist and places his hand around my throat, driving into me with renewed vigor.

“Come for me, Katarina,” he commands, his voice rough with exertion. “Let me feel you.”

My name on his lips pushes me over the edge. I shatter around him, walls clenching rhythmically as pleasure crashes through me in violent waves. I cry out his name, the sound echoing off the bathroom tiles.

Erik's breathing is ragged against my neck as we both come down from the high. The water continues to cascade around us, washing away the evidence of our passion but not the memory of it. His forehead presses against mine, our breaths mingling in the steam-filled air.

Without warning, he captures my mouth in a kiss that's different from any we've shared before. There's a desperation to it, an urgency that speaks of more than just physical need. My hands find his face, holding him to me as I return the kiss with equal fervor.

He reaches behind me to shut off the shower, never breaking the connection between our lips. Then he's lifting me again, one arm beneath my knees, the other supporting my back, carrying me dripping wet from the bathroom.

I should protest—we're soaking the floor, we need towels—but I can't bring myself to care. All that matters is the press of his lips against mine, the solid strength of his arms holding me against his chest.

Erik lays me on the bed with surprising gentleness, following me down until his body covers mine. Water droplets fall from his hair onto my face, tracing paths like tears down my cheeks. He brushes them away with his thumb, his eyes searching mine.

The intensity in his gaze destroys me. There's an emotion there—raw and unguarded that makes my chest tighten painfully. Words hover unspoken between us, dangerous words neither of us is ready to voice.

I reach up to trace the sharp line of his jaw, feeling the slight rasp of stubble beneath my fingertips. His eyelids close at my touch, a vulnerability I never expected to see in this hardened warrior.

When he kisses me again, it's slow and deep, as if he's trying to tell me with his body what he can't say aloud. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, answering his unspoken question with one of my own.

We are enemies. We are captors and captives. We are from worlds destined to destroy each other.

Yet at this moment, with his heartbeat thundering against mine, with his lips moving in perfect sync with my own, none of that seems to matter. What passes between us transcends words, transcends logic.

18

ERIK

Ilie beside Katarina in the dim light of early morning, watching her breathe. The rise and fall of her chest mesmerizes me in ways I can't explain. Two days without her felt like an eternity—a weakness I never anticipated. During my Spetsnaz training, I once spent fourteen days alone in the forest during winter. This separation felt worse.

“You're staring,” she murmurs, eyes still closed.

“Yes.” I don't deny it. Can't deny much around her anymore.

She rolls toward me, hair spilling across the pillow. “What happened during those two days?”

My jaw tightens. “My brothers thought I needed... perspective.”

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