Her breasts were warm against me, her stride as steady as if I weighed nothing at all. Against my better judgement, I allowed myself to rest my tired head on her shoulder as she climbed the stairs. The laughter of the others followed us, easy and unguarded, but the sound only made the reminder sharper—Kara had decided, and my body went with her whether I wanted it to or not.
8
Sabine
The light from thechandelier cast prisms on the paintings that lined the staircase. On the landing, Kara shifted me slightly to adjust her grip, and I jolted against her.
“What's upstairs?” I asked, my voice low and shakier than I’d like.
“The bedrooms. We’ll be sleeping in shifts.”
The light was dimmer and air warmer at the top of the stairs. She carried me down a long carpeted hallway, the soft pile muting her steps. Framed photographs lined the walls, their images blurred in my quick glances.
She continued. “There will always be someone up, someone watching.”
My fingers curled slightly into the fabric at her shoulder, not entirely from the movement. “Is that a threat?”
Her mouth tipped at one corner, though her eyes stayed forward. “It’s a promise, Sabine.”
We passed a closed door, then another. The hallway narrowed before opening again, the light warmer here. She stopped in front of a dark walnut door, the grain catching in the glow from a nearby sconce.
“This is you,” she said, shifting her stance to turn the doorknob before pushing it open with her foot.
We entered a large bedroom. She set me down slowly, keeping one hand at my waist until I was steady on my feet. The mattress of a four-poster bed loomed beside us, the carved posts stretching almost to the high ceiling.
She was close enough that the heat from her body touched mine. When I looked up, her gaze was already on me. Something tightened low in my stomach, the air in the space between us felt claustrophobic.
Her hand came up, fingertips brushing along the side of my face. The touch was sure, the warmth of her palm cupping my cheek. I concentrated on not moving, but found myself leaning into it, my breath catching as the distance narrowed.
For a moment, it felt inevitable. Inescapable. Her eyes dropped to my mouth, then mine to hers. My fingers curled lightly into the fabric at her waist—to push her away or pull her closer. I wasn’t sure which.
Her mouth was covering mine before I could register what was happening. Her kiss was hard, insistent, and her tongue delved into my mouth, exploring depths I wasn’t prepared to bare. Her hand slid around to cup my neck, trapping me against her, and when I tried to pull away, her hand tightened.
Her mouth slid from my mouth to my jawline, then down my neck, nipping at my collarbone.
“Stop, Kara.” I gathered myself and rolled my neck to try and escape her capture.
Her eyes were a thunderstorm of desire when she slid one hand under my sweater and covered my breast with her other hand. My nipples hardened into pebbled peaks against the lace and she squeezed with her palm and thumb, hard enough to make me jump. Her eyes caught mine and I shook my head, barely getting the word “stop” out of my mouth again before she pressed my hips against the high mattress, forcing me onto the bed.
My sweater slid up to reveal pale skin above the waistband of my pants, and her eyes feasted before her mouth dipped low, kissing me there. Charges of electricity ran from the contact point through my body.
This can’t be happening.
“No, Kara,” I said, pressing my palms against her head, trying to push her off of me. She was stronger, and her forearms braced on either side of me like a heated cage as her tongue traced circles up toward my breasts. The pressure wasdelicious. It would be so easy to—but no, I couldn’t. It was bad enough that they had me stashed away in this opulent prison.
She looked surprised for only a flash, then stood up. My eyes flicked down unwittingly and I couldn’t help but notice her hard nipples through her t-shirt. She let out a slow breath and stepped back, her hand scrubbing over her short hair.
The heat that had built between us drained into the empty space she left.
“You should have stopped the first time I said so,” I managed, pulling myself to a sitting position.
She gave a single nod and crossed to the door. “I’ll bring your suitcase and bag up in just a few minutes,” she said, her voice even. The sound of the door closing was soft, but it left the room very still.
I scooted forward onto the edge of the bed, the carved frame cool under my palm. The mattress gave easily beneath me, the spread smooth and neatly tucked.
The room was beautiful: high ceiling, thick curtains framing tall windows, a wardrobe of dark wood against the far wall. A small sitting area with two chairs and a low table sat near the hearth.
It should have been comforting, but the details slid past without catching. My chest felt tight with something I couldn’t name. Disappointment. Confusion.
