12. Harper
CHAPTER 12
HARPER
I twirl pasta around my fork, my eyes tracing Silas's sculpted features in the flickering candlelight. He takes a slow sip of wine, his lips caressing the glass. As he sets it down, I intentionally swipe my tongue across my lips to capture a stray drop of sauce, feeling the heat of his gaze as his eyes darken with desire.
"How's your lasagna?" I ask innocently, leaning forward just enough to give him a glimpse of cleavage.
A smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. He knows exactly what I'm doing.
Silas clears his throat. "Delicious," he says, voice husky. He takes another sip of wine, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. Aware he’s got my undivided attention, he stretches with a languid grace, his shirt straining against the expanse of his broad, muscular chest.
A flush of heat surges through me, settling deep within my core. Under the table, his foot grazes my calf, sending a shiver up my spine and stealing my breath.
I slip off my heel with a mischievous grin and glide my bare foot up his leg, feeling the heat of his skin.
His breath catches, an expected reaction. In playful retaliation, he leisurely unbuttons and rolls up his sleeves, showcasing those tantalizingly muscular forearms.
I can't help but bite my lip, fantasizing about those powerful arms pressing me firmly against a wall.
"More wine?" Silas asks innocently, flexing his biceps as he lifts the bottle.
"Please," I purr. Our fingers brush as Silas hands me my glass. This dinner is torture of the sweetest kind.
I take another bite of my fettuccine, savoring the rich flavor as Silas leans closer across the table. His gray eyes gleam with mischief.
"You know," he says in a low voice, "if you'd agreed to come back to my place tonight, I had some very specific plans in mind."
I raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. "Oh really? Do tell."
Silas's lips curve into a wicked grin. "Well, first I'd bend you over my kitchen counter," he whispers.
My cheeks flush as he continues, describing in vivid detail how he'd spank me until my skin was flushed pink, then take me hard from behind.
I shift in my seat, pulse quickening. Silas's graphic descriptions are having an undeniable effect on me. Part of me wants to throw caution to the wind and go home with him right now. But another part holds back, not quite ready to give in to temptation.
For now, I simply take another sip of wine and give Silas a coy smile. "You certainly have an active imagination."
Silas just grins wickedly. "Trust me, Harper. That's only the beginning of what I'd do to you."
“Really?” I clench my thighs, trying to scratch an itch that’s driving me crazy, being in such close proximity to Silas.
"I don’t think I’d be able to wait until I get you into the kitchen," Silas murmurs, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my heart race. His voice is low, filled with a raw desire that makes me tremble. "I would hike up that little dress of yours and take you right there in the foyer—fucking you until your screams echo off the walls."
A flush creeps across my cheeks, burning hotly, but I cannot tear my gaze away from his. Silas continues in vivid detail, painting a picture of his desires with words that make my pulse quicken. He describes how he wants to touch me, taste me, and make me plead for more, each word a promise of things to come. My breath hitches as he talks about sliding his fingers inside me, curling them with precision to find that elusive perfect spot that sends waves of pleasure crashing over me.
"And then," Silas says, a wicked grin spreading across his face as his eyes gleam with anticipation, "I'm going to flip you over and take that tight little ass of yours. Nice and slow at first, savoring every moment as you whimper and beg me to go harder."
His words are a tantalizing mix of seduction and promise, leaving me breathless with anticipation. I squirm in my seat, equal parts scandalized and aroused by his filthy words. Part of me wants to tell him to stop, that we're in public, for God's sake. But a bigger part never wants him to stop talking.
"I've never done that before," I confess, my voice slightly shaky, breathless from the adrenaline coursing through my veins. My heart races like a wild drumbeat in my chest. "And you might be more than I can handle."
Silas reaches across the table with a sinewy hand, gently placing it over mine. His touch is firm yet reassuring, like the calm before a storm. "There's a first time for everything, and I've never steered you wrong—have I?" I shake my head slowly, releasing a deep sigh that seems to echo through the room. "No, you haven't.”
“Why don’t I pay the check and take you home? And I’ll stay the night.”
The only thing I can do is nod.