Chapter 12 – Lilith #2
A slow, almost disbelieving smile touches his lips.
Desire burns in his eyes, but beneath it, something quieter.
Something almost fragile. “Then seal it,” he murmurs.
“Give me your mouth, Firefly.” The name hits me like a spark to dry tinder.
My breath catches. He hasn’t called me that since I was human.
I lean in, drawn by something deeper than want. His thumb strokes my cheek, grounding me. “Why Firefly?” I breathe, my lips brushing his.
“Tomorrow,” he says, voice low, coaxing, leaving no room for argument. “No more questions. Just don’t deny me.”
And I don’t. This kiss is different. Slower, deliberate.
His mouth moves against mine with a kind of reverence that makes my chest ache.
No urgency. No hunger to consume. Just heat, memory…
and something dangerously close to longing.
When he pulls away, his eyes are closed, like he’s holding onto the moment as tightly as I am.
“Silas…” I whisper. His eyes open, dark and sharp again. “We need to get you back,” he says roughly. “Before I lose control and take you again right here.” A slow smile curves my lips as I shift, feeling him still there, still impossibly hard. I tighten around him just enough to tease.
He exhales sharply, jaw tightening. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Am I?” I murmur.
He shakes his head, fighting for composure. “Wrap your legs around me. Don’t let go.”
I frown slightly but obey. He rises effortlessly, lifting me with him, keeping us joined. The world tilts as he moves, pressing me briefly against the rough bark of a nearby tree. The texture scrapes against my skin, grounding the heat still coiling inside me. “How-?” I start, breath catching.
“As much as I’d enjoy running through the forest like this,” he cuts in, voice strained. “We have other things to handle.” His hands tighten on my thighs.
“You’ll need to let go.” Reluctantly, I lower myself, feeling the loss immediately.
A quiet sound escapes me before I can stop it.
But I don’t step away. Instead, I sink slowly down, the tree rough against my back as I descend.
My gaze stays locked on his, watching the way his control frays just slightly.
“Firefly,” he warns, low and dangerous. That tone alone is enough to send heat spiraling through me again.
I don’t stop, taking him deep into my mouth.
His reaction is immediate; a sharp breath, fingers threading into my hair.
Not to stop me, but because he can’t help it.
The tension between us snaps taut, every movement charged, every breath shared.
“God…” he mutters under his breath, voice rough, unravelling at the edges.
It’s not just the heat or the hunger. It’s the way he looks at me, like I’m something he’s already lost once and refuses to lose again.
As I lean in, taking him deeper into my mouth, everything else falls away.
The forest, the night, even the echo of what we’ve done, there is only him.
The heat of him. The way his body reacts before I’ve even truly begun.
His breath catches sharply, his head falling back as my name leaves him in a low, fractured sound.
His fingers tangle, gripping tighter into my hair; not to guide, not to control, but because he’s already losing it.
That alone is enough to make something dark and triumphant coil inside me.
I don’t rush. I linger. Slow. Intentional.
Letting every second stretch, every reaction build.
I feel him tense beneath my tongue, every muscle drawn tight, every breath turning uneven.
“Fuck…” he exhales, voice rough, breaking apart.
“I’ll never forget this… You like this… on your knees for me…
” His words cut off into a strained groan, his grip tightening as I push him closer to the edge without letting him fall.
I want to feel it, that moment he breaks.
So, I drag it out. Teasing. Building. Letting the tension coil tighter and tighter until it’s unbearable.
His chest rises sharply, breath stuttering, control slipping through his fingers.
“Don’t-” he starts, voice strained. “Don’t play with me like that.
” But there’s no real warning in it. Only need.
Only surrender. I meet his gaze from beneath my lashes, holding it there, watching the exact moment he realizes he’s not in control anymore.
That I am. The shift is instant. Raw. Electric.
His head falls back again, a deep, broken groan tearing free as everything in him finally snaps.
His hand tightens painfully in my hair, his whole body tensing as he gives in completely, no restraint, no distance, nothing held back.
My name, that name leaves his lips like a prayer and a curse all at once.
And I hold him there. Taking every last drop of him.
Through every shudder, every breathless sound, every second of him unravelling.
When it finally fades, the silence that follows feels heavier than the act itself, charged and intimate.
Dangerous in a different way. I pull back slowly, deliberately.
He looks… undone. Not just from pleasure, but from something deeper.
Something exposed. That look alone sends a quiet, satisfied warmth through me.
I swipe my thumb lightly across my mouth, still watching him.
He lets out a breath that almost sounds like a laugh, disbelieving, before reaching for me, his hands firm as he pulls me back to my feet like he can’t stand the distance between us.
His mouth crashes into mine. It’s not gentle.
It’s heat and hunger and something almost desperate, like he needs to claim the moment back, or maybe prove I’m still real.
His hand grips my jaw, holding me in place as he deepens the kiss, his control still fraying at the edges.
When he finally pulls back, he exhales hard, shaking his head slightly, a crooked, almost helpless smile touching his lips.
“You’ll be the death of me,” he mutters.
A soft breath of amusement leaves me. “I won’t,” I murmur. “Can’t kill what’s already dead.”
His eyes darken at that, a smirk tugging at his mouth. “Smart mouth.” The shift is subtle, but it’s there. From that raw, unravelling edge, back to something colder. Controlled.
He tosses me a shirt. “Put it on.” I do, watching him as he moves efficiently now, detached, like what just happened didn’t nearly undo him.
The tent collapses beneath his hands, the corpse inside concealed, reduced to nothing.
Erased. The strike of a match cuts through the quiet, then fire.
It roars to life instantly, devouring everything in its path.
Heat washes over me, bright and suffocating, and I instinctively step back, my chest tightening as the flames flicker.
Too familiar. Too close. I turn away, but he’s already there.
“Eyes on me.” His voice is firm, grounding, his hand closing around my chin, forcing my focus back to him.
“Stay with me,” he says, quieter now. “It’s just you and me.
” The fire crackles behind him, but it fades, distant, irrelevant.
“Wrap your arms around me.” I do it without thinking, pressing into him, anchoring myself in something solid. “Let me take you home.”
And then he moves. The world blurs instantly, shadows and trees streaking past as he runs, holding me effortlessly, like I weigh nothing at all. I bury my face into his neck, breathing him in, letting that familiar scent ground me as everything else disappears.
Behind us, the fire shrinks to nothing more than a distant, flickering glow swallowed whole by the dark.