Chapter 23
Silas kicks the door shut behind us, like he has nowhere better to be than right here with me in his arms. The sound is thunderous and final, echoing through my entire being. He doesn’t release his grip on my ass; if anything, he digs his fingers into my flesh with palpable desperation.
My legs wind tighter around his waist, my hands tangling in his hair. Firm muscle flexes beneath my thighs, my breath already uneven from the way his body moves against mine.
Clothed.
We’re still clothed, and he’s lighting me on fire.
Silas rips my legs from his waist, dropping me onto his bed without warning. The mattress dips hard enough to knock the air from my lungs, but he’s already pulling away, taking my shirt with him in one smooth, decisive motion. The fabric slides up and over my arms, gone before I can even protest.
His gaze drags over me, slow and deliberate, a physical touch that leaves me craving his hands on my skin.
“You’re playing a dangerous game,” he mentions in a whisper, not wanting to break this spell we’re under. “You know that, right?”
I push myself up on my elbows, pulse thudding, mouth curling into a wicked grin I don’t bother hiding. “So play it with me.”
“Treacherous,” he mutters, shaking his head as something dark flickers across his expression. “You are reckless.”
“And you like it.”
Silas exhales slowly, controlled, but just barely.
It’s all an act, though. I witness him fighting with his restraint as he reaches for the hem of his shirt and pulls it off, only briefly breaking eye contact.
The movement is unhurried, intentional, like he knows exactly what it does to me and plans to let it sink in.
I scoot up the bed, just enough to challenge him, my smile all teeth and trouble. “What are you waiting for?”
Silas smirks as his hand snaps out. His fingers lock firmly around my ankle, and before I can react, he drags me back down the mattress until I’m right at the edge. A surprised laugh tears out of me, sudden and breathless, my heart galloping.
“Careful,” he murmurs, stepping in close, looming over me. “You keep forgetting who you’re provoking.”
“I didn’t forget,” I say, breath shaky but steady enough to get the taunt out. “I just haven’t had enough lessons to remember properly.”
“Oh?” he hums, his thumb brushing over my skin in a teasing promise as he steps between my legs. “Do you intend to continue provoking me after you learn?”
Silas’s voice is low enough to feel, and the look in his eyes tells me he’s done pretending this is a game. He straightens slowly, as if he’s giving me time to change my mind.
I won’t.
“My intentions are unclear at the moment. Ask me after the lesson.”
He tilts his head, struggling to cover his grin as he leans in. My hands dig into the sheets, knuckles whitening as I lose myself in the depths of his blue eyes. The air grows thinner as we breathe each other in.
Silas looks down at me, mere inches separating us, like I’m a decision he’s already made.
“Tell me,” he murmurs. “That you know exactly what you’re doing to me.”
“I know what I do to you.” I smile softly but unashamed. “Are you trying to call my bluff? Waiting for me to back out?”
Something in him snaps, a switch that makes his gaze appear tender while his touch becomes a dangerous electrical current flaring through my body. His hand slides up my calf, steady and deliberate, causing my breath to stutter. He tracks every reaction like data he plans to use against me.
“You don’t bluff,” he states matter-of-factly. “You escalate.”
“And you follow,” I pop back.
“I will.” His mouth curves, dark and wicked. “Every time.”
Silas leans in, bracing one arm beside me, his weight a promise. His forehead rests briefly against mine, his breath warm and uneven.
“You make it very hard to be the responsible one,” he admits.
I tilt my chin, lips brushing his cheek. “Then don’t be.”
For a second, he just breathes with me. Against me. For me. Then his grip tightens, his mouth hovering above mine before he kisses me gently.
“Careful, Eris,” he warns, his voice dropping into something sinful but certain. “You keep daring me like this, and I won’t ever stop.”
My answer is immediate. “Good.”
Silas’s hand slides down my side, slow enough to make my skin buzz. His fingers hook into the waistband of my stolen shorts, and he pauses there, just long enough to make it a question.
I don’t answer in words. Instead, I lift my hips, inviting him to continue.
His mouth curves into an approving grin. He sits up and tugs at the fabric, pulling the shorts down my legs as he backs away from me. The last of my clothing is gone in one smooth motion, tossed aside like it never mattered. The cool air hits me, my body already reacting, missing his warmth.
I take advantage of the space he gives me, pushing myself up the bed again, a deliberate provocation. My smile is lazy, taunting.
That’s a mistake.
His grip snaps back around my ankle, and he drags me down hard, the sheets popping off the top corners of the mattress, rolling up beneath me. He shoves his fingers into my pussy, claiming my attention without warning.
The sound I make is not dignified.
Silas stiffens for half a second, just long enough to feel the way my body reacts. And he exhales harshly, like something feral has finally surfaced.
“Eris,” he admonishes, my name rough, scraped raw at the edges. “You don’t get to provoke me and then act surprised.”
“I’m not surprised,” I manage, voice trembling on a fine edge of desire. “I’m exactly where I want to be.”
His breath leaves him in a slow, unsteady exhale, like he’s balancing himself against what he’s already started. What he wants. His hand stays pinned between my thighs, keeping my attention in a way that makes my spine bow and my thoughts scatter.
“Don’t do that,” he says quietly. “Not if you want control.”
My pulse is everywhere. “Break for me.”
His fingers flex, deliberate and confident, as he reminds me exactly who’s holding the reins now. He leans over me, eyes dark, jaw tight, restraint still hanging by a thread.
“You keep pushing.” He hums his approval as he unapologetically works me over.
“Don’t stop.” My breath shakes, but my defiance doesn’t. I wiggle away from him… or attempt to.
Silas’s grip tightens possessively, and the mattress shifts again as he hauls me back down the bed, his body hovering, heat pressing in from every direction. There’s nothing gentle in the way he crowds my space now. Nothing careful.
“And you keep running,” he murmurs, mouth brushing my neck. “Like you don’t want to be caught, but I know you do.”
I gasp when his hand moves again, unrelenting as he draws a broken sound out of me. I don’t bother trying to stop it or keep myself quiet. His response is immediate. A low, satisfied sound that vibrates straight through me to my clit.
“Listen to yourself,” he says adoringly. “That’s not resistance.”
My hands clutch at his shoulders, nails biting into skin as I pull him closer. I would argue with him, but he’s not wrong. He’s toying with me, though. And if he’s going to play, I’m going to fight.
The orgasm that follows this chase will be so worth the delay.
“Stop pretending you don’t like it.” His forehead drops to mine, restraint nearing the breaking point. “You’re dripping for me.”
“It’s not for you,” I smart, shoving his hand from between my thighs.
There’s something unmistakably primal in his eyes now. Hunger. Possession. The kind that doesn’t ask.
“You keep pushing,” he repeats, voice dark and melodic. “Now, let me hear you fall.”
Silas shifts his weight forward, and I scoot back, a reflex more than actual resistance, but he’s faster.
He catches my wrists and presses them into the mattress above my head, his full weight settling over me, pinning me there in a way that steals my breath and makes my pulse spike.
There’s no question in the way he moves, no pause for permission.
Just intention.
“Where are you going?” he asks, grinning down at me.
I open my mouth to answer… and he cuts me off with a forceful thrust of his hips. The sensation hits hard and fast, dragging a broken sound from my chest as my body lights up in response, thriving on the controlled violence.
There’s nothing hesitant in him now. Nothing exploratory or calculating. Every movement is exactly what he’s aiming for, and his only focus is to ruin me with it. He hits this sweet spot inside me, my pussy gripping his cock, trying to keep him where I want him even as I writhe beneath him.
I’m caught between wanting more and wanting to deny him the satisfaction of giving me this mind-numbing orgasm, holding myself right on the edge just to see what he’ll do.
Silas notices.
Of course he does. He possesses a user manual created just to understand me.
“I feel you trying to edge yourself. You can stop fighting me now, Eris.” His voice is low and commanding, controlling my pleasure. “Come for me.”
The words shatter whatever fragile control I was clinging to. My body gives in all at once, tension snapping, violent orgasm tearing loose as I cry out beneath him.
He doesn’t allow us to linger in the moment.
The pressure eases, only to shift again as he pulls out of me and moves down my body with unmistakable intent, refusing to disengage or let the heat dissipate.
I try to push at him, overstimulated and trembling, needing a minute to recover my senses.
But he wraps his arms around my thighs, anchoring me in place.
The meaning is clear, even without verbal context.
Escape will never be an option.
My protests dissolve into choked sounds, my hands fisting in the silky strands of his dark hair as he takes his time, every stroke of his tongue unrelenting and thorough.
I want him closer.
I want him to stop.
I need more.
Silas chuckles against my pussy like he can feel me warring with myself. And I moan like a wanton slut as he makes me come again.
A man with an appetite is more dangerous than any weapon I’ve ever wielded.
A well-placed bullet will kill me… But this kind of torture will have me worshipping gods I’ve never believed in.
Silas leisurely crawls up my body, settling between my legs once more. His focus is entirely on me, blue eyes bright with desire, as he wraps his hand around his thick cock, stroking himself until he comes across my lower belly.
The choice is intentional, more of a claiming than a need to release.
“I didn’t ask if you were on birth control,” he tells me, picking up his discarded t-shirt and wiping his come off my skin. “And I realized after I was inside you that I didn’t have any condoms.”
I snort. “That’s… thoughtful. I have an IUD.”
“That’s good,” he tells me casually, nodding his head as he drops onto the bed beside me. “Because one of us may or may not have a breeding kink, and it’s not me.”
“You’re really talkative post-sex to be so broody all the time.” I narrow my gaze at him as I prop my chin on his chest. “Is this a warning or a tip? Who is it?” I bite my bottom lip as he smirks at me. “But you’re the voyeur, right?”
“You’re too quiet even though I know you have a metric fuck-load of shit to say.”
I sigh and roll my eyes. “Who is it?”
Silas just shrugs playfully, rolling me to sit naked astride his lap.
I grin at him, content to bask in this glow and conversation as long as he’s willing to reciprocate… because I can’t remember the last time I felt this seen by someone.
Other than HimLock.