Chapter 15 Silas

SILAS

Tempest bids me farewell for the night, pointing out Dominic in case I need help. I smile and wave, pretending I don’t know Silas is watching.

Everything is so fucked. I thought college would be my escape.

My chance to get out of the hell my father planned for me.

That was my first mistake: believing my life could ever revolve around me.

I wasn’t raised to have opinions or emotions or do anything other than keep my mouth shut until I was handed off to my husband. Then I’d be his to abuse. His to erase.

What’s even worse is that I genuinely thought my mother agreed I deserved autonomy over my own life. But this—pretending to grant me parole only to realize the bars were always in place—is worse than staying locked up. Because I imagined what my life could be. All for them to rip it away.

The joke’s on me.

What’s the point of following the rules when all it earns me is a quicker death sentence?

So I tilt my head back, swaying as the club pulses beneath me, feeling more alive than I am.

The pads of my fingers graze my exposed thighs, dragging the edges of my black skirt up as I stare into a pair of green eyes.

I know what I’m doing is wrong, but I can’t seem to stop myself.

Mark is all over me, but I imagine the rough callouses of Silas’s fingers, the flecks of paint streaked through his hair.

The way he touched me. The tattoos covering his knuckles are the same ones that brushed over my pussy in a nightclub where anyone could’ve seen. And I didn’t want him to stop.

Mark leaves but I keep dancing for Silas, imagining his hands on me, loving the way his eyes flare with angry jealousy.

Would you like me to be in control, little fox? His voice rumbles in my mind as my hands trail up my torso, cupping my breasts. I’ve lost track of Silas in the crowd, but I still feel his gaze on me, even when Mark returns with another drink sporting a small pink umbrella.

“You must be thirsty,” Mark says, extending the drink to me with what he no doubt thinks is a charming smile.

“I’m good, actually,” I reply, taking a step away. The edges of his smile tighten, and the twisting in my gut intensifies. “Thank you, though.”

“I insist,” he presses, holding out the drink once more. “I’ve already spent money, and I know you’re not the type of girl who’s rude about accepting a gift.”

“Oh,” I sputter, raising my hand to accept it, even though I don’t want to. He stares at me, waiting for me to drink. Alarm bells go off in my head as I lift the glass, but Mark’s phone rings before the liquid touches my lips.

One glance at the screen has him muttering an excuse and rushing away.

The band around my chest eases as he leaves, the drink still clasped in my hands like a bomb about to explode.

Looking for the nearest table, I realize I’m poised on the edge of the room, mostly cloaked in shadows.

Mark must’ve been ushering us to the side, and I hadn’t noticed.

“Bastard,” I breathe, setting the glass down.

And then I feel him, pricks of intuition telling me Silas is nearby.

A shiver runs down my spine, a lingering sense from some long-lost survival instinct humans once possessed, telling me to run.

My heart kicks into overdrive, fear banishing the last hazy effects of alcohol as I search the crowd of writhing bodies for my hunter.

His fingers wrap around my throat, strangling the scream trapped in my lungs, tugging my back flush with his chest before I know what’s happening.

“You’ve had your fun tonight, Evie.” Silas’s lips brush against my ear, the warmth of his breath leaving zaps of electricity burning across my skin. “Now it’s my turn.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

His fingers tighten ever so slightly as I swallow. My breathing hitches as he holds me in place, his other hand trailing down my thigh. The pads of his fingers trace patterns along the exposed skin above my knee before bunching the fabric of my skirt and tugging it up.

I gasp as the hard length of his cock presses against my ass. Hundreds of people are dancing and drinking mere feet away, and the only thing separating us is the soft fabric of my underwear.

“Mark will be back—”

Silas’s fingers force my head back, cutting off my words as his nose drags up the side of my neck.

“Do not speak another man’s name when I’m touching you.

” His hand splays across the inside of my thigh, holding me there as his chest rumbles with the threat.

Teeth ghost along my collarbone, licking over my fluttering pulse before his fingers inch higher.

“Did it turn you on knowing I was watching you, little fox?”

A small whimper escapes me as he slips a finger beneath the thin cotton.

“This needy little cunt is dripping for me, and I’ve barely touched you. Imagine how wet you’ll be—how beautifully you’ll scream—when I bury my cock inside you.”

My thighs clench around him as he plays in my slickness. I should be horrified, but I love the way he commands my body, the filthy way he speaks as if I’m already his. And maybe that’s exactly what I want.

Letting the last of my inhibitions go, I arch my back, wiggling my ass in time with the music as I grind my clit against his palm. The hiss that escapes him is carnal, and I can’t hide the grin ghosting across my lips.

The world spins as Silas turns me, pressing me against the wall. His hand cups my pussy, the back of my hair tangled in his grip, tugging hard enough to make me wince as he tilts my head up to his.

“This pussy belongs to me,” Silas growls, rubbing a finger through my folds, forcing me to stare into his emerald eyes. I swear there’s a flash of vulnerability—he looks almost afraid—but then Silas’s finger is pressing into me.

I gasp at the intrusion, the sound swallowed by his mouth as it crashes into mine. The kiss in the alley was stolen and rushed, but this—this is punishing. Claiming, in a way that has my legs trembling and delicious heat coiling low in my belly.

We are a clash of teeth and tongues, of panting breaths and needy moans. A new song starts, and his pace picks up. Silas slips a second finger inside, and the stretch has me throwing my head back, bucking shamelessly against him as his thumb rubs circles over my clit.

“Oh my god,” I moan, feeling the tension spike like a wave cresting.

“Eyes open, Evie.” His words are a low rasp, the command absolute. “Look at me as you fuck yourself on my fingers.”

I blink my eyes open just as he adds a third finger, the stretch painful as his thumb flicks. My hands drape over his shoulders, holding myself up as I writhe, needing more. Seeking that unknown release.

“That’s right, little fox. Shatter for me.”

His fingers curl as I cry out, sending me over the edge. I’m floating and falling and soaring all at once as waves of pleasure crash over me. Silas doesn’t stop. His fingers pump as I shudder, coaxing every ounce of ecstasy from my orgasm.

My heartbeat pounds in my ears as I settle back into my body, painfully aware of Silas’s fingers still inside me as I try to stand on my own. He waits until I’m looking at him, his eyes bouncing between mine with something like wonder.

Forcing myself to stand on wobbly legs, I unclasp my hands and allow them to drift over the hard planes of his chest, hissing as Silas withdraws his fingers. Slickness coats my thighs, the evidence of my first orgasm glistening on his skin.

“I’ve never come before,” I whisper, swallowing as he holds his fingers between us.

Silas’s eyes widen, searching my gaze as if waiting for the punch line. I draw my bottom lip between my teeth, doing my best to ignore the flame in my cheeks and let him see the truth.

“Your first with a partner?” he asks.

I shake my head, and his cock twitches, his gaze shifting from me to his fingers, still wet.

“Such a dirty girl,” he purrs, inhaling the scent of my arousal with a groan.

Shame stretches the blush down my neck even as want pools in my core, my body already wanting more. Silas brings his fingers to his mouth, a sinful grin tilting his lips into a lopsided smirk, then licks them clean like a starved man offered a taste of his favorite meal.

“So fucking sweet.”

My breathing hitches as I stifle a whimper, but there’s no hiding the quickening of my breath. My breasts ache, my nipples hard, wondering what it would feel like to have his lips on other parts of my body.

He smirks as if reading my mind, dragging me flush against him. His cock presses against me, a promise of what’s to come.

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Evie. Not yet.” The spark of life shining in his eyes dims. “We have a date to get to.”

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