20. Kat

Chapter 20

Kat

"I'm sure you'll punish me," Nik whispers, his words hot against my skin, "just like you have so far, over and over, in every way imaginable.”

A low laugh vibrates from his chest into my back, making my stomach flutter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Shh.” His mouth brushes my ear. “You’re tense again. Just relax. Forget I said anything.”

“Nik—”

“Just focus on the footage,” he murmurs, his lips still close enough to make my pulse race. “Look, there’s Connor slipping away.”

I glance at the screen, catching sight of McGuire’s enforcer ducking out of the garden.

"McGuire kept himself in full view of the cameras all night, but Connor managed to slip away a few times," he murmurs, his thumbs working firm circles into my neck. "And thanks to my new favorite thief, the museum’s interior footage has unfortunately vanished—but I’d bet good money Connor was out handling McGuire’s dirty work.”

I try to focus on the video, to pretend his hands aren’t kneading the tension from my shoulders. But it’s pointless—his touch is downright sinful, drawing me in.

As we appear on the screen—me wrapped in Nik’s arms on the dance floor—his hands press firmly into my neck, grounding me in the moment. A low laugh rumbles in my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. “Ah, there you are,” he murmurs, nuzzling the back of my neck. “And I still can’t keep my hands off you…”

“Nik…” I whisper, but I don’t even know what I mean to say. Stop? Or more?

“There’s Dmitri, your new friend ,” he says, drawing out the word.

Dmitri’s easy to spot on the screen. A blonde with a stunning figure chats him up, while he shifts uncomfortably, glancing around. He quickly pulls out his phone and slips out of frame without a second thought.

“I thought blondes had more fun,” I joke, watching Dmitri dodge the poor girl with a fake phone call.

“Looks like brunettes are more his type—if today’s anything to go by,” he mutters, his tone laced with amusement.

“Can you blame him?” I ask, shifting my hips back until I’m pressed closer to him

“Not at all.” His voice drops, the weight of his words lingering. “What Dmitri lacks in respect for authority, he more than makes up for in his taste in women.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You know he was just messing with you at breakfast, right? Trying to get under your skin.”

“I know. It’s his favorite pastime.” Nik shrugs lightly, his tone softening before turning firm again. “I’m not worried about Dmitri. He knows better than to cross the line.”

I glance over my shoulder, intrigued. “And what line would that be?”

He holds my gaze, unflinching. “Trying to take what’s mine.”

I scoff, turning back to the screen. “I’m not yours, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“Could’ve fooled me. From where I’m sitting, it sure looks like you are.”

“You’re delusional. Newsflash: working for you doesn’t make me yours.”

“Keep telling yourself that, kiska .”

“Is that Russian for ‘babe’? Because I can’t stand men calling me babe.”

His mouth brushes my ear. “Maybe it’s Russian for ‘ mine’. ” He nips my ear, and I turn to give him a withering look.

“How do you say ‘ in your dreams’ in Russian?”

He laughs, unbothered. “You’re not wrong—I’ve dreamed of you being mine. Often.” He pauses, voice dipping. “Tell me, Kat. Have you done the same?”

I narrow my eyes. “Nikolai—we’re keeping this professional. Remember?”

“That wasn’t a no.” He smirks, undeterred.

“It wasn’t a yes, either.”

“Now, who’s delusional? If you want me to stop touching you, just say the word.”

It’s a dare. My mouth opens, ready to tell him to stop—but I don’t. His hands are rough in the most intoxicating way, working my shoulders as the heat of his body surrounds me, his torso against my back, his thighs framing mine.

He waits, his hands never faltering. When I remain silent, his lips curl into a triumphant smile.

“That’s what I thought.”

He chuckles softly, and I want nothing more than to wipe that smug expression off his face.

I’m tired of being at his mercy. Controlling my fate isn't enough—he also bends my body and mind to his whims, effortlessly.

But I’m not ready to surrender. His reactions yesterday proved he can't control his response to me any more than I can control mine to him.

If seduction is what it takes to bring this unthinkably powerful man to his knees, then so be it. I’ll use his attraction to me to take back some power, even if it means playing with fire. I'm nothing if not a risk-taker.

As his hands work my shoulders, I scoot my hips closer to his—slow, deliberate. I want him to know this is no accident, no slip of control.

I shift back just enough to feel the hard, unmistakable pressure of his erection against me. His hands pause for a split second before resuming their firm kneading.

Eyes still glued to the screen, I begin to rock my hips against him, slow and purposeful. His massage falters again as he sucks in a sharp breath.

I pause, turning slightly to look at him over my shoulder. “Everything okay?”

His narrowed eyes meet mine, heat sparking in his gaze.

“Can’t complain,” he says, his voice tight, before returning his focus to my shoulders.

I don’t bother hiding my sigh of pleasure—I want him to know his touch affects me. Because I know it will affect him.

His guarded eyes flick to me as I pretend to focus on the surveillance footage. Leaning back against him, I press into the solid heat of his chest, the hard lines of his abs molding against my spine. Resting my head on his shoulder, I roll my hips deliberately against his cock.

He inhales sharply, his hands freezing mid-massage.

“Kat…” he warns, his tone low, strained with restraint.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” I ask sweetly, brushing off his feeble attempt to regain control.

His glare sharpens, one eyebrow raised—his go-to look whenever he thinks I’m being particularly challenging, I'm starting to realize.

“I know what you’re doing.”

For a moment, I toy with the idea of feigning innocence, but the small smile curving my lips gives me away. “Good.”

That catches him off guard, a flicker of uncertainty flashing in his eyes before he regains composure.

“Toying with me again? I thought you’d learned your lesson.”

His voice is sharp, but the menace in his expression loses its bite as his cock grows harder, pressing insistently against me. I reward him with a deliberate slide of my hips, dragging my ass up and down against him.

His hands glide from my shoulders to my upper arms, gripping firmly as if to restrain me. “Kat…” he exhales, his voice unsteady, utterly failing to sound even remotely unaffected.

“If you want me to stop,” I whisper, echoing his words, “just say the word.”

His grip tightens, his narrowed eyes locking on mine, but his lips don’t form the words.

I grin, savoring the power shift. “That’s what I thought,” I say, chuckling as I throw his earlier smugness back at him.

“You’re playing a very dangerous game,” he murmurs, his hands trailing deliberately down my arms. Slowly, they settle on my hips, holding me in place. "One you won't win.”

“Jealous I’m better at it?” I counter, my tone as sharp as his grip.

His brow arches again, this time with a mix of annoyance and intrigue.

“Is that what you think?” he asks, his voice soft but carrying an edge that makes my breath catch.

“It’s what I know.” I shift again, feeling his hard length pressing against me.

His eyes lock onto mine, fingers tracing my hips, down my thighs, until he reaches the hem of my skirt. Without hesitation, he yanks it up and moves my panties aside. I hold his gaze, breath hitching as he explores me with his fingers.

Then, just as abruptly, he withdraws, leaving me aching as my underwear snaps back into place. I groan in frustration at the loss, the ache between my thighs sharp and demanding. His eyes drop to his fingers, glistening with my wetness, before lifting back to mine. A slow, cocky smirk spreads across his face.

“You’re so fucking wet, kiska ,” he murmurs, his tone thick with arrogance. “Seems I affect you as much as you affect me.”

“Maybe. But I’m better at using it to my advantage. Give me half a chance, and I’ll have you eating out of the palm of my hand.”

Leaning in, I brush my lips against his ear. He groans softly, his control slipping for just a moment.

“I don’t need tricks to keep you under my control,” he murmurs darkly. “I’ve already got you exactly where I want you.”

"We'll see about that," I whisper before trailing a languid, open-mouthed kiss along his neck.

A raspy breath escapes his lips, his eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment. Still, he resists me. So, I press harder, moving my hips deliberately against the length of his cock.

His breath catches in his throat, sharp and shallow. Encouraged, I deepen the urgency of my kisses, letting my lips and tongue linger against his skin. His scent—masculine, heady, and completely intoxicating—threatens to overwhelm my resolve. It takes all my willpower not to let desire take over completely, but I hold on.

This moment will set the tone for everything that follows, and I can’t lose sight of that. To control of him, I first need to stay in control of myself.

I increase the tempo of my movements against him, feeling his cock swell even harder beneath me. He pants against my ear, the heat of his breath grazing my skin, sending shivers down my spine. Lust coils tight inside me, but I bite back the urge to give in.

Every gasp, every tremor he can’t suppress is proof I’m on the right track. His body’s betrayal encourages me. It's tough to say what victory looks like in this situation, but I'll recognize it when I see it.

Taking his hand, I guide it to my breast, grinding harder against him. “Touch me, Nik. Please,” I whisper, my voice trembling just enough to shatter his control.

A groan rumbles in his chest as his rough, calloused hand closes over my breast, his touch firm and unyielding. My nipple hardens beneath his fingers, and he responds by pinching it, drawing a cry from me. That seems to be all the encouragement he needs; his other hand moves to claim my other breast, his grip possessive, consuming.

He teeters on the edge, and I know I have him right where I want him. To push him over, I spread my thighs, grab the hem of my skirt, and pull it up to my waist. Slipping my hand beneath the fabric, I tug my panties aside and touch myself, spreading my wetness as I rock against him.

A guttural groan escapes him as he presses his mouth to my neck, his teeth sinking into the sensitive spot where my shoulder meets my throat. The pressure sends my body spiraling closer to release, but I hold back, refusing to give in.

His breaths grow erratic, his fingers teasing my nipples mercilessly. There isn’t much tenderness left in him as his hips move in time with mine. He’s close—so close. One little push and we’re off… The trick will be keeping myself from falling first.

I finger myself, reaching back with my other hand to pull his mouth to the spot he just bit. He doesn’t resist, his open-mouthed kisses rough and unrelenting. His tongue flicks against my skin, almost enough to undo me.

I cry out his name in pleasure, and it almost pushes him past his breaking point. His caresses grow rougher, his thrusts more urgent, fueling the hunger burning deep in my core. Through the haze of my impending orgasm, it hits me—his shaky breathes, strained groans have been telling me his secret all along: to push him over the edge, I have to let him take me there first.

“Nik,” I pant, my voice trembling with need, but I refuse to break now—not when I’m so close to winning. “I want to come for you.”

His breath catches at my words, a low, pained groan following, and I know I’ve hit my mark.

“Please, Nik,” I whisper, my voice raw. “Make me come.”

“ Kiska ,” he sighs, his resistance finally fracturing. “You never have to beg for what I’d kill to give you.”

His hands clamp down on my hips, his grip possessive and bruising. One arm snakes around my waist while his other hand slides over my stomach, lower, until his fingers find their way between my legs.

When I try to move my hand away, he stops me, holding my fingers in place against my pussy. “No, Kat,” he growls against my ear, his voice dark and commanding. “I told you, no more games. You're done fucking with me. Either we do this together, or we don't do it at all. I’ll make you come for me, but we’ll do it my way. On my terms.”

Frustration bubbles in my chest as I groan, biting my lip. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He’s supposed to lose control, to succumb completely to the pull between us. But, like always, he’s turned the moment into another display of his dominance.

Nik might be the most infuriating man I’ve ever met, but this game isn’t over. Not until I say it is.

I reach behind me, my fingers clumsy as I tried to undo his pants.

With practiced ease, he releases my hips and catches my wrist, pinning my arm flush against my back. “It’s my way or no way,” he says, his voice calm but firm. “Choose carefully.”

His hand, still wrapped around mine between my legs, moves lazily, teasing me with featherlight touches that leave me squirming. I’m so close, the slightest pressure could send me over the edge.

He knows it, of course. He trails his lips down my neck, skillfully avoiding contact with my clitoris. “What’s it going to be, Kat?”

I hold out as long as I can, but he’s got me and we both know it. “Your way,” I finally concede, my voice barely above a whisper.

He rewards me with soft kisses across my shoulders. “Good girl,” he murmurs, his teeth grazing my ear. “Now, ask me again—nicely.”

I know exactly what he wants. “Please, Nik,” I whisper, shamelessly pressing myself against him. “Please, make me come.”

With a deep, satisfied groan, he does.