Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
Scout
Iwake up wrapped in Silas. The motel room is dim, rain still pattering against the window in a steady rhythm. My eyes feel swollen from crying and my throat is still raw and scratchy. But his arms are solid around me.
For the first time in a long time, I can actually breathe.
"Morning," Si murmurs into my hair.
"Is it?" My voice comes out wrecked. "It feels like the middle of the night."
"It's almost nine. We should probably eat something." Ever the practical athlete. It's so Silas, it makes me like him more.
I don't want to move. Leaving this cocoon of warmth and safety where nothing can touch me sounds terrible. "Can we just stay here forever?"
"Don't worry, Pretty Girl. You just stay put. I think there's a diner across the street."
I smile, remembering the Original Hotcake House. "There is."
"All right." He climbs out of bed and starts pulling on clothes. "Anything special?"
I shake my head. "Just come back as quickly as you can."
Silas surprises me by donning his jacket and then leaning over me, snagging a kiss. The action is so out-of-left-field for him that he leaves me with my mouth open in a gentle O.
I get up and putter around in the bathroom, rinsing my mouth with mouthwash and splashing cold water on my face. By the time I'm finished making the bed, Silas returns with a brown paper bag of hot pancakes, scrambled eggs, hashbrowns, bacon, and steaming cups of coffee.
"You are my hero," I say, gladly accepting one of the cups of coffee. The first sip is bitter and burned, but I slurp it up. Coffee really is the nectar of the gods. Taking it in any format works for me.
We eat in bed with the styrofoam plates balanced on our laps, not talking much. Every bite of our breakfast is slathered in melted butter, making for a tasty but heavy meal. Silas plows through his entire plate of carb-lover's delight. When I push my plate away half-finished, he points to it.
"You gonna eat that?"
I grin. "All yours, big guy."
As I watch, he destroys the rest of the food, folding the bacon inside the pancakes, pouring syrup on the hashbrowns and using the pancake to shovel it all into his mouth. When he uses his fingers to get the last drips of syrup off the plate, he makes eye contact with me and cringes.
"Sorry. I've been hungry since we went to sleep last night. Shoulda eaten more at your dad's."
"I like watching you eat. My dumb lizard brain thinks it's sexy."
He chuckles. "Wait till you see me during the off season. Hunter and Jett and I have a fourth of July party that's just an excuse for inhaling hot dogs and hamburgers. We eat until one of us taps out or pukes."
"Gross!" I wrinkle my nose playfully. "I'd say I don't believe you, but I've seen you on the ice. You three are insanely competitive."
"Puking is a badge of honor," he assures me. "Besides, I'm the tallest, broadest Huxley brother. I dominate."
"I'll believe it when I see it." Realizing that we're making plans for months from now, which is decidedly relationship territory, happens. Sticking to safer topics seems better. I clear my throat. "So what now?"
"It's icy outside. I think we should wait a couple of hours for the sun to warm up the roads."
I look at him, nibbling on my lower lip. "And what do you suggest we do to pass the time?"
Fishing for an invitation to get Silas naked becomes my strategy. But he turns stiff, uncertain what to do.
"We can, uh... just... hang out?"
Right. The thing about Silas is that he's excessively polite, to the point of stringent self-denial. I turn to him, my cheeks heating.
"What if I said I wanted you to fuck my brains out?"
His gaze snaps to my face, turning heated. "Scout... I don't want to take advantage of you. You were just sobbing in my arms last night."
"Please?" I press my lips to his before he can say more, desperate to taste him. "Please, Si? I want you."
He kisses me back, slowly. It feels as though he's testing to make sure this is really what I want. When I whimper and press closer to him, he deepens the kiss with a groan. He digs his hand into my curls, taking control, and gives me exactly what I'm asking for.
His hands are everywhere at once. Stripping my clothes off. Sliding down my body with purpose. I arch into his touch, gasping, already so wound up that every nerve ending feels exposed and raw. I yank at his clothes, frustrated, needing to feel his naked skin against mine.
Silas stands for a minute, shucking his clothes.
He’s a hockey god made of pure muscle and he towers over me.
His broad shoulders ripple as he moves, those defined pecs and cut abs catching the dim motel light.
Dirty blond hair falls in messy waves around his face.
Blue eyes gone dark with want, pupils blown wide.
His thighs are massive, all corded muscle and raw power.
But mostly, my eyes are focused on his cock.
Like the rest of Si's body, it's fucking enormous, thick and long, veiny and flushed.
Just looking at it makes my clit ache. Needy, I whine and writhe every second he's not touching me.
When he crawls back over me, I feel this enormous sense of relief.
"The walls are thin," he murmurs, pressing kisses against my throat. He shapes my breasts. In his giant hands, they almost seem dainty, even though I’m a G-cup.
"I don't care," I breathe.
"I can't have anyone else knowing what you sound like when I make you come." He bites down on my pulse point and I moan despite myself. "So you're going to have to be quiet. Can you do that for me?"
I nod frantically.
"Good girl." He slips his huge hand down between my legs and slowly slides two fingers inside me. My eyes roll up in my head. I have to bite my fist to keep from crying out. He whispers, "Jesus, Scout. You're so wet for me already. You need this, don't you? Need me to make it better?"
"Yes," I gasp, my hips bucking. At this point, I’m pretty sure he's the only man that can make it better. "God, yes. Please."
Silas alternates between slowly finger fucking me and swirling two fingers around my clit.
It's good, but not enough. He works me with his fingers, slowly and deliberately, building me up until I'm shaking with need.
I run my hands through his shaggy hair and scrape my nails down his back.
My hips roll of their own volition and beads of sweat break out across my brow.
Aggravatingly, Si growls whenever my hands wander down his body, heading for his cock.
"Be patient, Pretty Girl. Let me take my time with you first. My cock is big enough that it'll hurt unless you're ready to take it.
I have to warm your pussy up, get you needy and to the point of begging for my cock. "
I both love that and hate it. He keeps up his finger-fucking and clit-swirling, driving me crazy. The need to come is riding me so hard that I'm about to come out of my skin. When he gets me close, right on the edge of breaking, he pulls back. "Uh uh. Not yet."
I whine and writhe. "Silas, please..."
"I want you to remember this." His voice is rough, possessive in a way that makes me clench around nothing. "After we fuck, you'll feel me for days. Every time you sit down, every time you move, you'll remember exactly who you belong to."
The words should scare me. They're controlling and possessive, growled in my ear.
But they only make me wetter. There is something wrong with me, I'm sure of it.
But there's something wrong with Silas, too.
We're matched in that way, like two halves of a shattered stone.
Dark edges and razor-sharp crags when apart made perfectly smooth when pressed together.
Silas pauses to tear open a condom, but I stop him with a hand.
"Can you-- will you go bare? I'm on birth control."
He pauses for a second. "Are you sure? I'm clean."
"I trust you, Silas. I need to feel you."
"Fuck, sweetheart." He pins my wrists above my head with one hand. The other slides down my spine, over the curve of my ass, between my thighs where I'm already dripping.
"Yes," I hiss. "Fuck me, Si. Don't hold back."
"Stay quiet," he growls. "Or I'll stop. Understand?"
Nodding, I bury my face in a pillow as he lines up the fat head of his cock and pushes inside me.
If being honest, Si's cock is too big. He's a lot of man and his throbbing dick doesn't just slip in with ease.
Even though he's got me so turned on that I thought I'll die if he doesn't fuck me, he has to work his hips, stretching me, filling me.
As he struggles to fit his cock in my pussy, tears prick my eyes and my breath leaves my lungs.
"Okay?" he asks, biting his lip as he tries to hold himself in check.
That's not what I want. I want all of him, right now. I wrap my arms around his neck and push my hips up, encouraging. "I want more, Si. Don't be gentle."
"You sure?"
"Yes. Please."
He drives in the rest of the way in one hard thrust. Pain and pleasure blur together, overwhelming every sense. Feeling so full, so stretched, so completely his takes over. He stills for a moment, letting me adjust, forehead pressed against my shoulder as he breathes hard.
"Fuck, Scout. You feel incredible. So tight. So perfect."
Then he starts to move. Slow at first, careful, letting me get used to his size. But I don't want him to be careful. I rock my hips, urging him faster, harder. He groans and gives me what I need, pounding into me with long, deep strokes that make stars burst behind my eyelids.
"That's it, sweetheart. Take my cock. You're doing so good for me."
His dirty talk undoes me. Combined with the relentless pace he sets, I'm hurtling toward the edge embarrassingly fast. He reaches between us, finds my clit, circles it with rough fingers.
"Come for me, Pretty Girl. Let me feel your pretty pussy choking my big cock."