Chapter 28 - Evie
EVIE
By the time the last waves of my orgasm ease and I can breathe again, Silas has me slung over his shoulder, ass in the air and halfway down the hall.
Slickness coats my inner thighs, evidence of how much I enjoyed being treated like a whore.
I’ve long since accepted there’s something seriously wrong with me, but whatever it is, Silas doesn’t seem to mind.
I’ve tried to suppress it—to deny myself every taboo thing that makes me feel alive—but when Silas touches me, it feels like I’m being reborn.
He’s the serpent in the garden, whispering that a bite of the forbidden fruit will be worth it.
And god help me, but I think I might just be falling for him.
The phantom touches, the shame and belittlement, the urge to drag a blade across my skin just to feel something other than the anguish twisting inside me—it all fades in his presence.
Maybe I’m being led into sin, lured down to hell with only eternal suffering waiting.
Silas warned me. Told me he’d destroy me if I didn’t run.
But maybe I’m just as addicted to the lick of the devil’s flames as I am to the burning of his gaze.
Silas kicks open a door, smacking my ass as I jump at the sound.
The room illuminates as he switches on the lights, my upside-down view revealing olive-green silk sheets and ornate finishes throughout the large space, with what appears to be an en suite off to the side.
A laugh escapes me as Silas flips me over and sets me on the edge of the bed.
“You should’ve run, Evie.” His emerald eyes meet mine, swirling with longing and something far too close to guilt as he unzips his pants. He takes his time, hooded eyes blazing into mine like he’s waiting for me to stop him. To change my mind.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say, because I don’t like the haunted glimpses peeking out from beneath the well-constructed mask Silas wears.
He has secrets, a haunted past filled with unmentionable pain…
But so do I. Maybe that’s why I’m not afraid to yield to whatever this is.
Why I choose to walk into the fire knowing it’ll rise up and ignite our splintered hearts.
We’ll blacken and burn, but at least we’ll do it together.
“I choose you, Silas.” Just as fiercely as you choose me.
Licking my lips, I sit up, bringing my hands to his where he started to push down the waistband of his dark jeans. His body goes unnaturally still, and for a moment I swear a primal beast stares back at me—a glimpse of the murderous serpent I know.
“I’m not on birth control,” I murmur, anticipation and fear mingling together. Any form of contraception wasn’t tolerated by my family, but staring into Silas’s eyes, at the thin ring of emerald nearly eclipsed by smoldering onyx, I finally understand the difference between obligation and choice.
“It’s too late for second thoughts, little fox.”
My pulse races as I ease his hands away from his pants. Silas allows it, but there’s no sign he’s changed plans for the night.
“Even if I don’t fuck you now, you’re mine, Evie. Tonight. Tomorrow. And every fucking day after.”
My heart clenches, splitting open and bleeding for the man before me.
“I’m yours?” I ask as I drop to my knees because I want to hear him say it again.
“Yes,” he hisses, voice lowering into a growl. “Mine.”
Maintaining eye contact, I guide one of his hands to the back of my head as I work his jeans down over his knees. Silas lifts a brow, nostrils flaring when he realizes what I’m doing.
“I suppose that makes you mine,” I say in a breathy whisper I barely recognize.
His cock springs free as he steps out of his clothes, and I fight the urge to do the one thing I swore I wouldn’t: run away. There’s no way that thing will fit inside of me—mouth or otherwise.
“That’s right,” Silas purrs, nodding down at me as his fingers tighten in my hair. He tugs gently, forcing my neck to arch as his thumb drags along my bottom lip.
“Are you going to let me fill this sweet mouth, little fox? Are you going to suck and gag on my cum as I fill you up?”
“Yes,” I breathe, wrapping my fingers around his thick length.
This is more than him using me. More than me poised on my knees, lips parted, mouth open and waiting for him. It feels like I’m accepting communion for the first time—finally choosing my own god.
And it’s not the one I was taught to fear.
His body tenses as I explore, trying to get my fingers to touch as I stroke him from root to tip. He lets out a sharp breath as I do it again, cock twitching as I coax a glistening bead from his slit. My tongue darts out, capturing the salty taste of him as Silas’s fingers flex in my hair.
“Fuck,” he groans, holding himself in place. Waiting for me.
That small show of restraint has me guiding his tip to my mouth. I lick up his length before swirling my tongue around his swollen head, along the flared edge as I lap and tease, letting intuition guide me.
The guttural sounds Silas makes under my ministrations have my heart pounding, my thighs squeezing. I gasp for air, trying to take him further, to swallow as much of him as I can, but I gag, my teeth scraping the sides of his cock.
“Easy,” Silas hisses, and I swear he grows harder. “The pain heightens my pleasure, little fox, but you’re not ready for that side of me. Not yet.”
I start to pull away, embarrassment heating my cheeks, but his hand twists in my hair, pinning me in place as his other hand caresses my jaw.
“Relax your mouth,” he murmurs, his thumb stroking the edge of my jaw. “But keep these lips wrapped around my cock.”
Nostrils flaring, I do what he asks. He starts to move, gentle at first as he works himself deeper.
“Hollow your cheeks and use your tongue. That’s it. Such a good girl, sucking my cock like the little slut you are.”
I whimper at the praise, something warm blooming in my chest. I take him all the way, jaw aching as the lingering scent of soap and sex fills my senses.
My fingers curl into the edge of the bed as I suck him deeper, trying to find a way to breathe as his grip on my hair tightens, as his hips begin to thrust.
I want to please him—to make him forget about anything, everything, outside of this room. Outside of me.
“Eyes on me,” he commands, tugging roughly to arch my neck further. “I want you to know who’s fucking this pretty face.”
I moan as he unleashes himself, thrusting between my lips. Tears spill down my cheeks, mingling with spit and drool.
“You cry so beautifully, Evie.”
Silas thrusts deeper, forcing me to open wider as I gasp for air through my nose. I should feel sick, degraded—but the twitch of his cock as I suck, the tightening of his stomach as his gaze turns black—it fills me with a power I’ve never known.
“I’m the only one who gets to see you like this.” Thrust. “Who gets to see you on your knees.” Thrust. “Being treated like the fuck doll you are.”
My nipples strain against my dress, breasts heaving as my pussy clenches.
“I own you,” Silas pants, his pace growing erratic.
My jaw is aching, but his words burst through the broken parts of my soul, soothing a sting I’ve held for years. Because in this moment, being owned feels a lot like being loved.
“Look at me, baby.”
I blink through the tears, fluttering my eyes open. Silas caresses my cheek, tenderness clashing with the ruthless way he fucks my mouth. And then the truce cracks, and something shifts between us.
“Fuck,” he groans, slamming into the back of my throat as his balls tighten. He holds me there, gagging around his length as spurts of cum fill my waiting mouth. I swallow reflexively, choking and drinking and sucking until he drags me off him.
I stare up at him, chest heaving, and realize he’s breathing just as ragged as me. He swipes a thumb along my chin, gathering what’s spilled before holding it in front of me.
“Swallow all of me, little fox. Every drop.”
I close my lips over the pad of his finger, swirling my tongue until it’s clean, feeling closer to heaven in this moment than I ever did in church.
Maybe this is what religion is supposed to feel like.
Maybe worshiping him—worshipping us—this magical connection weaving around our souls, is what God wanted us to know. To rejoice in. To feel. And know we’re alive.
His finger pulls free with an audible pop, the salty sweetness of him coating my tongue.
“Good girl.”