My Rival, My Temptation - Chapter 13: Chapter 13
You are reading My Rival, My Temptation, Chapter 13: Chapter 13. Read more chapters of My Rival, My Temptation.
Katherine’s POV
Heat shot through me the minute Nikolai’s large hand closed around my wrist.
I stopped breathing.
Slowly, I turned back to him.
And the way he was looking at me; those blue eyes of his sharp as a blade, made my stomach twist into something uncomfortable.
Like I was hanging off the edge of a cliff.
And he was the one holding on, undecided about whether to let me fall to my death or not.
“Go to bed, Ekaterina,” he said, voice low.
I scoffed, snatching my hand away from his grip. “I really can’t believe you have the guts to stand here, and give me orders, when…” I let out a humorless laugh. “You know what? Fine. Let’s talk about what you did tonight and why you shouldn’t have. Because last I checked, at our own engagement party, you were busy kissing Irina .”
His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. He looked too comfortable, like he was about to watch an entertaining show.
It made me want to hit him.
“Oh, don’t get all silent now,” I snapped. “You didn’t seem to care about this wife of yours then. And I’m sure you haven’t given a damn these past few days either. But one time—one single time—I want to do what I want, and you show up like a caveman, throwing me over your shoulder like a damn sack of rice!”
I was rambling, but I didn’t care. I was livid.
“Let me guess,” I went on. “You’ve been off screwing your way through half of Italy while I’ve been stuck in this villa, but the one night I actually want to get laid—like we both agreed we would be doing since this marriage is nothing but an agreement on paper—you come storming in like some jealous, overgrown guard dog? What kind of medieval bullshit is that, Nikolai? If you’re going to disappear for days, then at least let me…”
I stopped abruptly when I realized something.
I had taken a step back.
I wasn’t even holding the door anymore.
And Nikolai, he had already stepped inside.
I gasped as he calmly shut the door behind him, sealing us in together.
My pulse spiked when he took a slow step forward. And another.
I moved back without thinking, without meaning to, until my heel hit the bed frame.
“So,” he murmured.
I swallowed. “So, what?”
He tilted his head, watching me like a cat watching a cornered mouse. “All this drama…the sneaking away…the theatrics…” His gaze dipped over me, dark and assessing. “It’s because you’re horny?”
My whole body flushed. “What do you think?”
He let out a soft chuckle, like I was amusing him. Like I was something to be indulged.
His gaze swept over me again; head to toe, slow enough that I felt watched, felt examined, and I hated the way my breath hitched.
“Okay,” he said smoothly. “And right now…are you still horny?”
“No,” I blurted. “Of course not. I’m not.”
He raised a brow, like he didn’t believe me.
“You look like you are, zaika,” he murmured.
I scowled, ignoring the way his voice always felt like a caress whenever he said something in Russian. I needed to learn Russian fast to be able to be on equal footing with him. “Don’t change the subject.”
He smirked. “I didn’t.”
I crossed my arms. “You cannot have your guards following me everywhere. I agreed to this marriage, not to being treated like an endangered species.”
His smirk faded slightly.
“What do you think is going to happen to me, huh?” I challenged. “You think someone’s going to pop out of nowhere and kidnap me? Or torture me or something?”
The air shifted.
Nikolai’s face went blank.
Not just blank…cold.
I frowned. “What?”
Nothing. He just stood there, rigid, like I had said something I shouldn’t have.
A prickle of unease crawled up my spine.
But I shoved it away.
“Well, whatever,” I huffed. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed. And if you ever try to cockblock me again…”
He stepped closer. “Then what?”
I glared. “Huh?”
He waited.
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Damn it.
Why was he so obsessed with what I was doing? Why was this even a conversation? Why did he always challenge me? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?
“Why do you care?” I snapped. “Why are we even talking about this? Leave.”
He exhaled a slow breath. “If you feel like I’m cockblocking you, solnishko, then I apologize.”
He did not sound apologetic.
My scowl deepened. “Oh please, for the love of God...”
“But,” he added, “if you’re still hot and bothered, I could help you out.”
My stomach dropped.
My eyes snapped wide and my mouth fell open.
My whole body heated at the way he looked at me—smug, like he had succeeded in leading me into a trap.
I gaped. “Excuse me?”
His brows lifted slightly. “What? We are supposed to start trying for a child soon.” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an edge to it. “It’s in the contract, da?”
I recoiled. “You asshole.”
He smirked again. “So poetic, my little wife.”
“I do not…” I gestured aggressively at him “…in any way, want you.”
His smirk widened. “Is that so?”
Before I could step away, his hand caught mine.
I froze.
His fingers curled around my wrist—firm, warm, intentional and then he linked our fingers together.
I watched as his other hand lifted, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingertips traced a slow, featherlight path; starting at my mouth, trailing down my throat, lower, brushing just beneath my collarbone…
Then further.
Down, down, skimming over the fabric covering my breasts, then lower still, until his hand hovered at my hip, a teasing whisper of warmth against my skin.
I was not breathing.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
I blinked, dazed. “What?”
His fingers flexed slightly.
“Say you don’t want me,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “Say you don’t find me attractive. Say you feel nothing when I touch you.”
I opened my mouth.
But the only thing that came out was a sharp, breathy moan.
Because his hand had just slid behind me…
And squeezed my ass, pushing me directly into him so that my chest was flush against his.
I gasped.
His mouth hovered over mine, but he didn’t kiss me.
He just smiled.
And in a voice laced with quiet, smug certainty, he murmured, “When we eventually fuck, zaika, you’ll be the one begging for it.”
Then, just to drive the point home, he brushed his lips against the corner of my mouth—deliberate, taunting, infuriating—before pulling back.
“Goodnight, Ekaterina,” he murmured.
Then he left.
I stood there.
Breathing hard.
Heart racing.
Skin burning.
And then…
I slumped on the bed and screamed.
Heat shot through me the minute Nikolai’s large hand closed around my wrist.
I stopped breathing.
Slowly, I turned back to him.
And the way he was looking at me; those blue eyes of his sharp as a blade, made my stomach twist into something uncomfortable.
Like I was hanging off the edge of a cliff.
And he was the one holding on, undecided about whether to let me fall to my death or not.
“Go to bed, Ekaterina,” he said, voice low.
I scoffed, snatching my hand away from his grip. “I really can’t believe you have the guts to stand here, and give me orders, when…” I let out a humorless laugh. “You know what? Fine. Let’s talk about what you did tonight and why you shouldn’t have. Because last I checked, at our own engagement party, you were busy kissing Irina .”
His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. He looked too comfortable, like he was about to watch an entertaining show.
It made me want to hit him.
“Oh, don’t get all silent now,” I snapped. “You didn’t seem to care about this wife of yours then. And I’m sure you haven’t given a damn these past few days either. But one time—one single time—I want to do what I want, and you show up like a caveman, throwing me over your shoulder like a damn sack of rice!”
I was rambling, but I didn’t care. I was livid.
“Let me guess,” I went on. “You’ve been off screwing your way through half of Italy while I’ve been stuck in this villa, but the one night I actually want to get laid—like we both agreed we would be doing since this marriage is nothing but an agreement on paper—you come storming in like some jealous, overgrown guard dog? What kind of medieval bullshit is that, Nikolai? If you’re going to disappear for days, then at least let me…”
I stopped abruptly when I realized something.
I had taken a step back.
I wasn’t even holding the door anymore.
And Nikolai, he had already stepped inside.
I gasped as he calmly shut the door behind him, sealing us in together.
My pulse spiked when he took a slow step forward. And another.
I moved back without thinking, without meaning to, until my heel hit the bed frame.
“So,” he murmured.
I swallowed. “So, what?”
He tilted his head, watching me like a cat watching a cornered mouse. “All this drama…the sneaking away…the theatrics…” His gaze dipped over me, dark and assessing. “It’s because you’re horny?”
My whole body flushed. “What do you think?”
He let out a soft chuckle, like I was amusing him. Like I was something to be indulged.
His gaze swept over me again; head to toe, slow enough that I felt watched, felt examined, and I hated the way my breath hitched.
“Okay,” he said smoothly. “And right now…are you still horny?”
“No,” I blurted. “Of course not. I’m not.”
He raised a brow, like he didn’t believe me.
“You look like you are, zaika,” he murmured.
I scowled, ignoring the way his voice always felt like a caress whenever he said something in Russian. I needed to learn Russian fast to be able to be on equal footing with him. “Don’t change the subject.”
He smirked. “I didn’t.”
I crossed my arms. “You cannot have your guards following me everywhere. I agreed to this marriage, not to being treated like an endangered species.”
His smirk faded slightly.
“What do you think is going to happen to me, huh?” I challenged. “You think someone’s going to pop out of nowhere and kidnap me? Or torture me or something?”
The air shifted.
Nikolai’s face went blank.
Not just blank…cold.
I frowned. “What?”
Nothing. He just stood there, rigid, like I had said something I shouldn’t have.
A prickle of unease crawled up my spine.
But I shoved it away.
“Well, whatever,” I huffed. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed. And if you ever try to cockblock me again…”
He stepped closer. “Then what?”
I glared. “Huh?”
He waited.
I opened my mouth. Closed it.
Damn it.
Why was he so obsessed with what I was doing? Why was this even a conversation? Why did he always challenge me? Why couldn’t he just leave me alone?
“Why do you care?” I snapped. “Why are we even talking about this? Leave.”
He exhaled a slow breath. “If you feel like I’m cockblocking you, solnishko, then I apologize.”
He did not sound apologetic.
My scowl deepened. “Oh please, for the love of God...”
“But,” he added, “if you’re still hot and bothered, I could help you out.”
My stomach dropped.
My eyes snapped wide and my mouth fell open.
My whole body heated at the way he looked at me—smug, like he had succeeded in leading me into a trap.
I gaped. “Excuse me?”
His brows lifted slightly. “What? We are supposed to start trying for a child soon.” His voice was smooth, teasing, but there was an edge to it. “It’s in the contract, da?”
I recoiled. “You asshole.”
He smirked again. “So poetic, my little wife.”
“I do not…” I gestured aggressively at him “…in any way, want you.”
His smirk widened. “Is that so?”
Before I could step away, his hand caught mine.
I froze.
His fingers curled around my wrist—firm, warm, intentional and then he linked our fingers together.
I watched as his other hand lifted, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingertips traced a slow, featherlight path; starting at my mouth, trailing down my throat, lower, brushing just beneath my collarbone…
Then further.
Down, down, skimming over the fabric covering my breasts, then lower still, until his hand hovered at my hip, a teasing whisper of warmth against my skin.
I was not breathing.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
I blinked, dazed. “What?”
His fingers flexed slightly.
“Say you don’t want me,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper. “Say you don’t find me attractive. Say you feel nothing when I touch you.”
I opened my mouth.
But the only thing that came out was a sharp, breathy moan.
Because his hand had just slid behind me…
And squeezed my ass, pushing me directly into him so that my chest was flush against his.
I gasped.
His mouth hovered over mine, but he didn’t kiss me.
He just smiled.
And in a voice laced with quiet, smug certainty, he murmured, “When we eventually fuck, zaika, you’ll be the one begging for it.”
Then, just to drive the point home, he brushed his lips against the corner of my mouth—deliberate, taunting, infuriating—before pulling back.
“Goodnight, Ekaterina,” he murmured.
Then he left.
I stood there.
Breathing hard.
Heart racing.
Skin burning.
And then…
I slumped on the bed and screamed.
End of My Rival, My Temptation Chapter 13. Continue reading Chapter 14 or return to My Rival, My Temptation book page.