Chapter 25
"What are you doing?" His deep voice was low, strained, and almost unsteady.
"Testing a theory," she replied, a mischievous lilt to her voice, her arms wrapping tightly around his waist.
"And what theory is that?"
"That you're not as heartless as you pretend to be." Her words were bold, but her voice softened as her fingers brushed against him lightly.
Drogen's jaw clenched, his composure slipping, he turned to face her and leaned down, his lips grazing her ear. "Young woman, unless you want me to take you right here in this kitchen, you'd better let go."
Her breath hitched, her face heating up"You're bluffing," she challenged, though the excitement in her voice betrayed her.
"Am I?" His voice was raw, a mixture of a threat and a promise, his grip on the counter tightening. "One more second, and you'll find out."
Eyes wide, she instantly pulled away, her cheeks aflame. "I'm outta here," she mumbled, spinning on her heel and bolting from the kitchen.
Drogen leaned back against the counter, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest as he watched her retreat. She'd actually bought his threat—though, in truth, it wasn't entirely empty.
Once dinner was ready, he carefully plated the food, arranging everything neatly on the table. The aroma of roasted chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, and sautéed vegetables filled the room. Satisfied with his handiwork, he called out to her, knowing she had slipped back into her room.
"Don't worry, I won't bite… you can come out now," he teased, his voice carrying a playful edge. He smirked, imagining the flush of embarrassment still lingering on her face.
Moments later, she emerged, her steps hesitant but steady, and sat at the table in silence.
"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, leaning back with a grin that made her stomach flutter.
"You know," she began, summoning her courage, "you're pretty good at flirting." Her eyes briefly met his before darting away.
"This?" he said, flashing a cocky smile. "This is nothing compared to what I can actually do."
She finally looked at him, a mix of amusement and shyness. "Your cooking… it's not bad," she admitted, her gaze dropping to the food. The words sounded awkward, but the hint of genuine approval softened her tone.
"It's the best you'll ever taste," he declared confidently, causing her eyebrows to shoot up.
"I'm sure I can cook better than you," she countered, a spark of her usual boldness returning.
"We could put that to the test tomorrow… it's the weekend after all."
"Challenge accepted," she said with a faint smile. Her pounding heart started to ease, the initial awkwardness giving way to a more natural rhythm. Being around someone you liked this much was exhausting but exhilarating.
They ate in companionable silence, though both were hyper-aware of the other's presence. She caught him sneaking glances at her several times, and every time their eyes met, she'd quickly look down, pretending she hadn't been staring too.
Once the meal was finished, she offered to do the dishes, but Drogen insisted they do it together. He washed while she rinsed, their hands occasionally brushing against each other, sending a jolt of warmth through her.
"It's hard to believe a grim reaper is good at house chores," she said, breaking the silence.
He shrugged. "I've been living alone for centuries. I've picked up a lot of skills. I can pretty much do everything."
"Can you sing?" she asked suddenly, her curiosity getting the better of her.
"I would never sing, even if I could. That's so cringy," he replied with a low chuckle.
"No, it's not. It's actually romantic. A lot of women would love to hear their boyfriends sing for them," she shot back, her cheeks flushing as soon as the word boyfriends slipped out.
"So you want to hear me sing, is that it?" he teased, stepping closer. His smirk deepened as he leaned over the counter, his arms resting on either side of her, trapping her in place. Their faces were mere inches apart now, and the air between them crackled with tension.
Natasha hiccupped nervously, her cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. Drogen laughed softly, his breath fanning her face.
"Relax," he murmured, his voice low and soothing. " You don't have to be so nervous."
"I'm not nervous," she replied quickly, though her voice betrayed her. She wasn't used to feeling this way—so vulnerable, so exposed. Around others, she was fearless and daring. But with him, she felt… like a flame flickering in the wind, delicate yet burning fiercely.
Drogen's expression softened as he stared down at her lips, a rare glimpse of raw desire shining in his eyes. "You know," he began, his voice dropping to a whisper, "I've been desperately wanting to do this since you hugged me."
Before she could protest, his lips claimed hers, soft but insistent, catching her completely off guard. Her breath hitched as his tongue teased hers, coaxing a response. She froze for a moment, her heart racing wildly, but as his warmth enveloped her, she gave in, kissing him back. Her hesitation melted away as his touch deepened, slow and gentle, yet ignited sparks through her whole being.
His hands found her waist, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. She gasped softly when she felt his bulge pressed hard against her, her cheeks heating in response. He didn't seem to care—if anything, it turned him on even more. His grip tightened as though he couldn't get enough of her, his kisses growing bolder, more demanding, yet still carrying an undeniable tenderness.
Her fingers gripped his shirt for balance, holding on as the intensity of his touch left her breathless. He kissed her like he was savoring her, like every second mattered, and it sent a thrill through her. Every brush of his lips, every press of his body against hers, made her forget where she was. All she could feel was him.
Finally, he pulled back, their foreheads resting together as they tried to catch their breath. His voice was low and rough, full of longing. "You're driving me crazy, Nat."
Her lips were still tingling from his kisses as she met his gaze, her own voice trembling but steady. "Then don't stop."
His dark eyes blazed with desire, and a faint smile touched his lips. "You don't know what you're asking for," he murmured, his hand slipping lower, his touch firm yet careful, as if she might disappear if he wasn't careful.
"Maybe I do," she whispered, a small smile playing on her lips despite the way her heart pounded in her chest.
Something in his expression softened, but the hunger in his eyes remained. She had undone him completely, and for once, he didn't want to fight it. Whatever this was, he wasn't letting go, and neither was she.