Rebirth: The New Bride Wants A Divorce-Chapter 369: That’s dangerous
Kathrine blinked, breath still uneven, and the next thing she knew Ethan was kissing her again. This time there was no hesitation, no teasing retreat. It was demanding, almost desperate, as he guided her backward until the edge of the bed pressed into her knees.
"Ethan—" she started, but the word dissolved when she fell back against the mattress.
He followed immediately, bracing himself above her, close enough that she could feel the heat of him without being crushed by it. For a second he just looked at her, really looked, as if committing the moment to memory. His eyes were darker than she had ever seen them, desire pooling there in a way that startled even him.
He exhaled a short, uneven laugh. "I never knew," he murmured, more to himself than to her. "That it could feel like this."
Kathrine swallowed, her fingers curling into the sheets. "Like what?"
His gaze flicked to her lips, then back to her eyes. "Like I don’t want to stop."
Before she could respond, he leaned down again, capturing her mouth. This kiss was slower, deeper, as if he was testing the way she fit against him. Kathrine responded without thinking, her hands sliding up to grip his shoulders, pulling him closer. The sound that escaped her surprised them both.
Ethan froze just enough to lift his head. "Say it again," he said quietly.
Her brows knit together in confusion. "Say what?"
His forehead rested against hers, breath mingling with hers. "I want to hear it again," he admitted, voice low and rough. "You... moaning my name."
Heat rushed to her cheeks, but it wasn’t embarrassment that made her heart race. It was the way he said it, as if the words mattered, as if she mattered.
"Ethan," she whispered, and this time there was no stopping the way his name slipped out of her.
Something snapped in his control.
His mouth was on hers again, claiming, unyielding. Kathrine gasped as he deepened the kiss, the slow exploration giving way to something more urgent. She met him halfway, lips parting as their breaths tangled. His hand slid to cradle the side of her face, thumb brushing her cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the hunger in the kiss.
She arched instinctively toward him, and he groaned softly against her mouth. "You’re doing this to me on purpose," he muttered.
Kathrine managed a breathless laugh. "I don’t even know what I’m doing."
"That’s the problem," he replied, kissing the corner of her mouth, then her jaw. "Neither do I."
Her hands moved of their own accord, fingers threading into his hair, tugging just enough to draw his attention back to her. He stilled, eyes locking onto hers again.
"Tell me to stop," he said, not pulling away. "If you want me to."
She searched his face, seeing not just desire but restraint, a silent question waiting for her answer. Kathrine shook her head slowly. "Don’t."
That was all the permission he needed.
Ethan lowered himself again, kissing her with renewed intensity. This time there was no rush, no frantic need to prove anything. It was all sensation and shared breath, a slow burn that made her dizzy. When he finally pulled back, both of them were breathing hard.
He rested his forehead against her shoulder, eyes closed. "This is dangerous," he said softly.
Kathrine smiled despite her racing heart. "You climbed up to my balcony," she reminded him. "I think we crossed dangerous a while ago."
He chuckled, the sound warm and intimate, and lifted his head to look at her again. "I meant you," he corrected. "You make me forget every rule I ever made for myself."
Her fingers traced the line of his jaw, gentle now. "Maybe you needed to forget them."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. The room felt suspended in time, the world outside her bedroom completely forgotten. Ethan finally sighed, a mix of reluctance and satisfaction.
"I should probably move," he said, though he made no effort to do so.
Kathrine tilted her head, eyes shining. "Probably."
Instead of moving away, he leaned down to kiss her once more, slower this time, softer. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against hers again, his smile faint but unmistakably real.
"Just... don’t get used to me behaving," he warned lightly.
Kathrine smiled back. "Too late."
Ethan lingered there for a second longer, his breath warm against her skin, before he finally shifted his weight to the side. The mattress dipped and then stilled, the silence between them loud in a way that made Kathrine’s chest feel too full.
She turned her head to look at him. He was lying on his back now, one arm thrown over his eyes as if he needed the darkness to think. The sight made her smile.
"You look conflicted," she said softly.
He huffed out a short laugh. "That obvious?"
"A little," she admitted, propping herself up on one elbow. "You kissed me like you were sure... and now you look like you’re arguing with yourself."
He lowered his arm, turning his head to face her. "Because I am."
"About what?"
"About the fact that I don’t usually lose control," he said honestly. "And with you, it feels like I didn’t even try very hard to keep it."
Kathrine studied his face, the seriousness in his eyes. "Is that a bad thing?"
Ethan’s gaze softened. "That’s what I’m trying to figure out."
She reached out before she could overthink it, her fingers brushing his wrist. The contact was light, almost cautious. "You’re not the only one who feels... different," she confessed. "I should probably be freaking out right now."
"And you’re not?" he asked.
She shook her head slowly. "No. I feel... calm. Which makes no sense."
He turned onto his side then, facing her fully. "It makes sense to me."
"How?"
"Because I feel it too." His thumb traced a small circle on the sheet near her hand, close enough that she could feel the movement. "Like the noise in my head just... stopped."
Kathrine let out a quiet breath. "That’s dangerous," she teased gently.
A small smile tugged at his lips. "You already said that."
"And yet you’re still here," she pointed out.
He glanced toward the balcony door, then back at her. "I know."
