Chapter 5 Kellan #2
His hips rolled once, slow and deliberate, dragging us together in a slide that stole the air from my lungs. Pleasure cracked through me, bright and blinding. My hands scrabbled at his back, trying to get closer, trying to anchor myself to something before I flew apart.
“Easy,” he muttered against my lips. “Breathe, Kellan.”
“I am,” I lied, barely.
He kissed me again, deeper this time, tongue stroking into my mouth in a way that made me shiver. Every time he shifted his weight, sensation streaked through my body, pooling low and hot and almost painful, his alpha scent getting thicker until it felt like I was breathing him instead of air.
I was already close. Embarrassingly close. My body had no frame of reference for this, no practice at holding back. It was just yes written in every nerve.
He pulled back a fraction, breathing hard.
“One kiss,” he rasped, eyes dark and dilated. “One kiss and you’re already shaking.”
“I—” My voice didn’t want to cooperate. “You’re… heavy.”
A breathy half-laugh left him. “That’s not an insult in my language.”
His gaze flicked down my body and back up, and something like pride curled in his expression. His thumb brushed along my throat again, feeling my pulse kick under his touch.
“You want more?” he asked quietly.
Heat roared in my face. “Yes.”
He searched my eyes like he was looking for any hint of doubt.
“When I say more,” he said, voice roughening, “I mean more. Not just kissing. Not just this.” His hips rolled again, proving the point, making me bite down on a whimper. “You still want it?”
I swallowed.
The sensible answer should’ve been no. Absolutely not. I was in enemy territory, in the bed of the man holding me as leverage. My father would burn the state down if he knew.
But lying here, wrapped up in his scent, his alpha pheromones sinking under my skin, my body pressed under his… sense didn’t stand a chance.
“Yes,” I said, steady this time. “I want it.”
His jaw clenched.
“Tell me to stop,” he said again, a last repetition of the lifeline he kept trying to throw me…us… “Or you let me take care of you. Those are the options.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I said. “Silas. Please.”
The words slipped out on its own.
The effect it had on him was immediate and terrifying and good.
“Fuck,” he said again, a prayer or a curse, I wasn’t sure.
He kissed me one more time, quick and hard, like he was stealing something he needed, and then he started to move.
Sliding lower.
Silas kissed his way down my throat like he had all the time in the world.
Slow, steady, maddening.
Every brush of his mouth left a hot trail behind. My fingers dug into the sheets, trying to hold on to something, anything, while my body reacted in ways I’d never felt before.
My breath kept catching, my chest felt too tight and my legs wouldn’t stay still.
He noticed all of it.
“Easy,” he murmured against my skin, voice low. “You’re shaking.”
“No, I’m—”
A shiver ran straight through me.
“…I’m fine.”
“Liar,” he said, and I felt him smile against my collarbone.
He kissed just below it, then lower, then lower still, each touch slow like he was testing how fast he could unravel me. My body arched toward him without permission.
My mind flashed one frantic thought:
My dad would kill him. He’d kill me.
He’d burn this whole place down.
Right now I didn’t care.
Silas’ hands were warm, his mouth hotter, and my brain couldn’t hold on to fear and this at the same time. Everything narrowed to the places he touched, to the rhythm of his breath against my skin.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my borrowed sleep pants… that someone must have put me in.
And my whole body went still.
He paused immediately. “Kellan.”
My heart slammed in my chest.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
“Look at me.” His voice softened…not gentle, but something close.
I forced my eyes open. He was right there, his face inches from my stomach, staring up at me like he could read every thought I didn’t say out loud.
“If I keep going,” Silas said quietly, “I need you to be sure.”
“I am.”
“I need you to say it.”
His thumb brushed my hip, warm and grounding.
“I need you to want this more than you’re afraid of me.”
My throat tightened.
“I’m not afraid of you.”
“You should be.”
The words were rough, but there was no victory in them…only something that sounded like regret.
“I trust you,” I said anyway, because it was true. Every omega instinct I had should’ve been screaming, but instead they’d gone soft and quiet around him.
Even if it didn’t make sense.
Even if it was stupid…insane…
Even if it was the kind of thing my father would call weakness… and would never forgive.
He exhaled hard, like the words hit him somewhere deep.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Then open your legs for me.”
Heat shot through me so fast my breath stuttered.
But I did it…slowly, shakily and with my heart hammering.
His hands came to my thighs, big and warm, sliding them apart a little more. He looked like he was fighting himself the whole time, his jaw clenched tight, and his eyes were darker than I’d ever seen them.
“Good boy,” he said under his breath.
The words landed somewhere low in my spine and lit up every nerve…omega-soft and obedient in a way I didn’t even recognize in myself.
My body reacted instantly, my hips lifted, my breath caught and, need roared up like it had been waiting in the dark for someone to speak to it in exactly that tone.
Silas noticed.
A sound came out of him—half groan, half curse. He dragged his hand up the inside of my thigh, slow and reverent, like he couldn’t stop himself even if he tried.
“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he muttered.
“I… think I do,” I said, voice shaky.
He huffed a small, disbelieving laugh. “You have no idea. But you will.”
My entire body went hot.
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the inside of my knee—soft, almost careful. It made something tight and fragile snap inside my chest.
No one had ever touched me like this.
Not with intention. Not with hunger. Not with…respect.
My breath hitched.
“Silas…” I whispered.
His hands tightened on my thighs.
“Say it again.”
“Silas.”
He looked… undone. Like hearing his name from me had stripped something off him.
“Good boy. I love the sound of my name coming out of your mouth like that,” Silas murmured, his voice rough and satisfied.
“I’m going to take care of you,” he said, voice scraping raw. “But you have to let me. You stay still, you keep your eyes on me, and you tell me if anything feels too much.”
“Okay,” I breathed.
“And if you want me to stop—”
“I won’t.”
He shook his head. “If you want me to stop—”
“I’ll say it,” I promised. “I will.”
He held my gaze another beat, searching. Then he nodded.
“Good.”
He slid my sleep pants down my hips—slow enough that I felt the drag of fabric on overheated skin. I swallowed hard, nerves jumping. He peeled them to mid-thigh, then lower.
When he reached the waistband of my underwear, my hand flew to his wrist on instinct.
He froze instantly.
“Kellan.”
Just my name, nothing else, but the tone said everything.
Your call.
You choose this.
Not me.
I swallowed and nodded.
“It’s okay. I want— I want you to.”
His eyes softened just a fraction.
Then he took the waistband, tugged, and I felt cool air hit heated skin.
I sucked in a breath.
Silas’ voice dropped, dark and awed.
“Beautiful.”
My face burned. “Don’t—”
“I mean it.”
His hands slid to my hips.
“You’re perfect. That’s the problem.”
My heart stumbled hard.
Before I could say anything back, he shifted lower on the bed, his shoulders settling between my thighs like he belonged there.
My pulse thundered.
He looked up, eyes locked on mine.
“Keep your legs open for me.”
I did.
The breath left my lungs in one rush as he lowered his mouth—
The first thing I felt was his breath…hot, focused, right on my hardening cock. It hit me like a shock, my whole body jolting as if Silas had wired me straight to a live current.
“Si—Silas—” My voice cracked embarrassingly high, thin with nerves, need, everything.
“Shh.” His mouth brushed the inside of my thigh, a whisper of warmth. “Let me.”
He shifted me like I weighed nothing. His hands slid under my hips and tilted me up, guiding my lower body onto the center of the mattress so my spine curved and my legs spread wider.
He stayed between my thighs, his broad shoulders braced under them so I couldn’t close, couldn’t hide. Not from him.
His thumbs stroked slow circles on my hips—steady, grounding, claiming—and then he lowered his head and wrapped his lips around the head of my cock.
Soft. Testing. Like he needed to taste how I reacted before he let himself go.
A broken sound tore out of me. My fingers grabbed fistfuls of the sheets because I didn’t know what else to hold onto. His tongue swirled around the tip, lapping at the precum leaking from my slit, and I bucked up involuntarily, shoving more of my throbbing length into his hot mouth.
He hummed against me like he liked the way I came apart, the vibration sending sparks straight to my balls.
He took me deeper, his lips stretching around my shaft as he sucked, hollowing his cheeks and bobbing his head slowly at first, then faster, his hand wrapping around the base to stroke what his mouth couldn’t reach yet.
“You’re shaking,” he said, pulling off with a wet pop, the words warm against my slick skin. A string of saliva connected his lips to my cockhead for a second before it broke.
“I—I can’t help it,” I breathed, thighs trembling around his shoulders, my dick twitching in the cool air now that his mouth was gone.
“Good,” he murmured, his eyes locking on mine with that intense gaze. “Don’t stop.”