The Chains That Bind - MLM (John Kramer X M!Reader)

Chapter 15: Restless Nights 💦

The nights in the warehouse were growing heavier. The air felt thicker, and your mind became a labyrinth of conflicting thoughts. By day, you were the apprentice, carrying out your tasks with meticulous precision, following John's lead. You performed everything with mechanical efficiency. But by night, when the world outside the warehouse quieted, something inside you shifted.

It started small-just a flicker of heat when John's hand would graze your back or linger a moment too long on your arm. His presence had always been commanding, but now it was something more. Every time he looked at you, there was a subtle undercurrent of something deeper, something that lingered long after his gaze had passed.

Tonight, like every night before, you lay on the stiff mattress in your small, dimly lit room within the warehouse, staring up at the ceiling. The shadows danced on the walls, but your thoughts were elsewhere. They were on him-on the way his fingers had brushed your waist earlier, on the way his voice had dropped to that low, intimate tone that sent shivers through you.

You shifted in bed, trying to shake the thoughts, trying to remind yourself that this was John Kramer-your mentor, your leader. This wasn't the kind of thing you should be thinking about. But the harder you tried to push it away, the more persistent the images became. You saw him in your mind-his eyes, always so intense and focused, boring into yours. You could almost feel his touch again, the way his hand had lingered on the small of your back, the warmth of it seeping through your skin.

Your body reacted before you could stop it, heat pooling in your lower abdomen as your breath hitched slightly. You hadn't realized how tightly wound you were, how much tension had built up over these last few days. The constant closeness to him, the fleeting touches, the way his voice seemed to wrap around you like a soft caress-it was all becoming too much.

Without thinking, your hand slipped under the waistband of your pants. You hesitated for a moment, biting your lip, feeling a wave of guilt. But the sensation of your own fingers was grounding, a way to release the stress that had been knotting in your chest for days.

Your mind wandered back to earlier, replaying the moment when John's hand had rested on your hip, his touch firm but gentle. It had been such a small gesture, but it had left you reeling. You imagined what it would feel like if he hadn't stopped, if his hand had traveled lower, tracing the curve of your waist, his fingers slipping beneath your clothes.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you clamped your hand over your mouth, your heart pounding in your chest. This was wrong. This wasn't how you were supposed to feel-not about him. But the more you tried to fight it, the more the desire built up, until it was impossible to ignore.

Your hand moved faster, your breath quickening as you imagined his touch-rough but deliberate, like everything John did. The way his voice would sound, low and commanding, as he whispered something in your ear. You bit your lip, stifling another moan, your body tensing as the pleasure built. It was all him-the thought of his hands, his voice, his presence looming over you, always in control.

Your body shuddered, and you pressed your face into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound as the release washed over you. For a moment, the tension dissipated, leaving you breathless and trembling, the guilt creeping in almost immediately. You lay there, chest heaving, your hand still between your legs as the weight of what you had just done settled over you.

This wasn't the first time you had felt this way, but it was the first time it had gone this far. Every touch from John lingered in your mind, every brush of his hand igniting something in you that you couldn't control. And now, lying there in the dim light of your room, you couldn't shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.