Chapter 12 - Katya
The city lights blur past us through the tinted windows, but I don’t pay attention.
Not when all of my awareness is zeroed in on Sergey next to me with his thigh pressed against mine and the taste of him so fresh on my lips.
The pressure of his mouth on mine should be grounding, but I’ve never felt more weightless.
I should pull away and say something. I should snap myself out of it and come back to my senses.
But I can’t. Not yet, anyway.
Not while he feels exactly how I thought he would, if not even better.
Even as the SUV pulls into the driveway, we stay exactly as we are, still tangled together.
I don’t tire of the way his lips brush against mine, both impatient and seeking more. Our hands move like we have something to prove to each other, unable to maintain any kind of restraint. Not anymore.
There’s nothing careful about the way he devours my mouth. Raw hunger compels us both as that pent-up tension finally has somewhere to go, bursting apart at the seams.
The moment the door opens, we half stumble out with his hand firmly against my waist, refusing to break contact.
We don’t say a word, but I feel as if the ground buzzes beneath me with every step.
The tension crackles more intensely than it ever has, and I know for a fact that a line has been crossed, and we might never return to that place.
That should concern me, but at this moment, I don’t care.
Inside, I don’t take in any of our surroundings that are still somewhat foreign to me. I can only focus on Sergey’s grip on me and the roaring beat of my pulse in my ears.
Something magnetic surges through us, and his hand settles at the small of my back before his lips find mine again.
There’s a renewed sense of urgency between us as he presses me against the wall in the foyer, holding me even tighter to him while his tongue brushes against my lower lip, silently pleading for more. Without thinking, I part them, inviting him in.
Heat pools within my stomach as his warmth envelopes me, almost like I’m his last meal. Every second that our mouths meld together, it’s like we’re both ravenous, and I don’t do a thing to stop it.
Maybe I should, but I don’t. Not when it feels this good. This liberating.
Sergey kisses me like I belong to him, and worst of it, I like it. I like how demanding his mouth is, and the way he grips me like he’d fall apart if I were ever taken from him.
There’s almost a power in that. Knowing I could have him this tense with need.
For a moment, my mind runs with that fact, wondering how I could use that to my advantage.
But it vanishes the moment he presses his lips harder against mine, humming lowly into my mouth. My stomach flutters at the rush of sensations that move through me as he grips my thighs, letting his fingers brush along my skin. They slip beneath the dress, exploring higher.
Warmth courses through my system, and my senses heighten. Hyper aware of his every touch, I find myself anticipating more. Wanting him to push the boundary further.
Those warning bells in my head are drowned out by the streak of pure want in my chest, and the need to explore that kind of connection.
I’ve spent so long trying to deny the urges I’ve had to touch and to feel him completely, to ignore how easily he gets under my skin. But now, it seems useless. The walls I’ve put up around myself are crumbling, and every brush of his palms over my thighs only works to tear them down faster.
His touch is almost reverent in a way I never expected from him, and it’s so addicting.
God help me, I want him just as badly.
“You have no idea what you’ve done to me,” Sergey murmurs against my lips in between kisses, groaning softly.
My breath hitches the moment his mouth moves down to my neck, my body betraying me by leaning into him and seeking out more of his warmth and affection.
I pant quietly while his open-mouthed kisses seem hellbent on claiming me entirely, and the low, almost growl of approval from his chest weakens my legs and brings an incredible sensitivity over me.
Everything about it feels so reckless. So raw and full of need that I’ve never been compelled by before.
But with Sergey, I can’t shake it. It feels like I have to dive in headfirst, and I need to quell all of my curiosities and needs.
The subtle pressure of his thigh against the apex of my thighs makes me shudder, and before I can stop myself, my hips edge forward, hoping for more of those sparks of pleasure.
It shoots through me, pulling a breathless moan from my lips.
Immediately, Sergey groans again and pulls me against him harder while nipping at my pulse point.
“Fucking hell, Kat…”
My eyes flutter as he surrounds me, making my head swim with the overwhelming smell of his cologne. His presence completely against me.
Regardless of how compelled I am by every jolt and wave of absolute desire, something in me hesitates when his fingers brush against the outer hem of my panties, pumping the brakes immediately.
Sergey is almost being piloted by his desire alone, and he’ll do anything to get it.
But he doesn’t know that I’m inexperienced. That I’ve never let a man be so intimately intertwined with me.
I’ve never done this before. I’ve never surrendered to such a carnal urge before.
And while I want it, something clicks into place again.
Like a wave of cold water crashing over me, it hits me hard, and that clarity tears through the haze.
What the hell am I doing?
Snapping out of my daze, I push him back just hard enough to put some distance between us. With my palms against his chest, the warmth of his body makes me think twice, but I force myself to hold out, even if the absence of his mouth on mine stirs up a reluctance in me.
Sergey’s eyes meet mine with his pupils blown and chest heaving. For a moment, it looks like he doesn’t understand what just happened, or the fact that I’ve put a stop to the moment. It seems like he’s seconds away from pulling me back in.
Trying to catch my breath, I shake my head and pull my hands back. “I…I can’t.”
Sergey doesn’t speak. He doesn’t utter a single word. Instead, his lips part like he means to say something, but nothing comes out. Instead, he nods subtly, barely, but it’s there.
His acceptance is clear enough, if I can even really call it that. More than anything, he seems almost shocked, or maybe just dazed like I was.
Backing away, needing to put some distance between us, my hands shake slightly while I smooth my dress down. As much as I don’t want to cower or seem weak in front of him, I can’t meet his gaze.
I turn down the hall and keep going, putting as much distance between myself and what just happened. What almost happened beyond that. Every step away from him feels harder to complete than it should.
Everything moves by me in a blur, and when I reach the room he had assigned to me, I close it firmly behind me before leaning against it and closing my eyes. My heart races still, and my head’s a complete mess.
What did I do? What did I allow him to do?
It was all too much and too far. The drinks, flirting, dancing, and his lips on mine. The way he looked at me like I was the only person who mattered.
I tried so hard to hate him and push him away for everything he forced on me, but tonight, I slipped. I let him in, and I had no qualms about it.
I almost let those urges get away from me.
Pulling in a shaky breath, I move into the closet and catch sight of myself in the full-length mirror. For a moment, I don’t even recognize the version of me looking back.
My lips are swollen from kissing him, my eyes are glassy and blown wide with whatever emotions I don’t want to acknowledge right now.
I was supposed to be strong, and I was supposed to resist him above all else.
But he got to me. Somehow, he managed to sneak his way in and lower my defenses.
He’s Sergey Lukov, for Christ's sake. I never should’ve let him get that far.
He represents the very thing I’ve been running from since I was a teen. He is the corruption, manipulation, and arrogance I never wanted to surround myself with. He’s the danger I’ve brushed against without fully submerging myself, and now, I don’t know how I’m going to come back from it.
What terrifies me more than anything is how I willingly let him.
That weakness gnaws at my insides, but right beside it, the want lingers.
Something in me still wants to give in. To turn back around and finish what we started, but I can’t.
It can’t happen, and I can’t lose control like that again.
Sergey stalked me for weeks, then, when he felt like it, he broke into my condo and abducted me. He forced me to marry him, a near-perfect stranger, and now he has me living in his place against my will.
That isn’t something I can forgive so easily.
He’s the very darkness I never wanted to get lost in. But no matter how charming or magnetic he is, I can’t forget who he is or what he’s capable of.
In an attempt to brush it all away, I strip out of the dress and pull on something comfortable, relieved to be free of the strings attached to it.
Eventually, I crawl under the covers of the bed and try to shove the thoughts away. Even so, his touch lingers on my skin. His voice seems to take over my internal one, whispering his praises and need. I can taste him and see the hunger in his gaze.
Closing my eyes, I try to forget about the possessive heat in his kiss and the way his hands felt more like a brand against my curves.
I hate him for making me feel all of this, and even worse, I hate how easily I nearly fell apart for him.