Chapter 5 Kellan #3
He dove back in, swallowing me down until his nose brushed my pubes, his throat constricting around my cock as he deep-throated me.
I moaned loud, hips jerking, fucking into his face as he worked me over—sucking hard, tongue pressing flat against the underside of my shaft, teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp.
Saliva dripped down my balls, pooling on the sheets, and he reached up to fondle them, rolling them in his palm while he bobbed relentlessly.
I was close, so fucking close, my abs tightening, breath coming in ragged pants. But Silas pulled off again, smirking up at me with swollen lips glistening from my cock. “Not yet,” he growled, voice rough. “I want to taste all of you.”
He eased my legs wider, the slow press of his palms firm and unyielding. I felt the bed dip as he shifted his weight lower, settling in, his forearms hooking under my thighs so he could lift and spread me open. My ass clenched instinctively.
I felt exposed and vulnerable, every omega instinct should be telling me I should run and hide, but it didn’t. So I opened for him instead and he didn’t hesitate.
His breath ghosted over my hole first, hot and teasing, making me whimper.
Then his tongue flicked out, tracing the tight rim of my asshole, wet and insistent.
I jolted again, a whine escaping my throat as he licked a broad stripe up from my balls to my entrance, circling the puckered skin before pressing the tip of his tongue inside.
“Fuck, Silas,” I gasped, my hands flying to his hair, gripping the short strands as he ate me out like a starving man.
His tongue delved deeper, fucking into my ass with shallow thrusts, while one hand came up to stroke my neglected cock, slick with his spit.
He moaned into me, the sound muffled against my cheeks, and I felt his free hand spreading me wider, thumb rubbing circles over my hole to help his tongue push in further.
He lapped at me greedily, sucking on the sensitive rim, then plunging back in, his beard scraping my inner thighs as he devoured my ass.
My body arched off the bed, every nerve ending on fire, the dual assault of his mouth on my hole and his fist pumping my dick pushing me toward the edge all over again.
He didn’t let up, tongue-fucking me relentlessly, tasting every inch, until I was a trembling mess, begging for more without words.
He used his mouth like he knew my body better than I did, from slow licks that dragged through me, to firmer pressure that made my stomach drop, and soft sucks that pulled sounds from deep in my chest. Everything felt too sharp, too hot, too much, and still not enough.
I pulled on his hair my fingers digging in for balance as my hips stuttered helplessly.
“S–Silas— I’m—”
The words dissolved in my throat.
He slowed deliberately, teasing me back from the edge, making my whole body clench with frustration.
“Breathe,” he said softly.
“I’m trying—”
He laughed, low and the vibration traveled straight through me.
Then he shifted lower.
His hands slid under me again, lifting my hips, angling me open. His thumbs eased me apart with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the hunger in his breath.
“Silas—what are you—”
I gasped—loud, sharp—when he slid his fingers inside me, touching me someplace even more sensitive, someplace no one had ever touched.
My thighs tried to close but his hands were already there, holding me open.
He groaned like the sound of my shock did something dangerous to him.
“Nobody’s ever touched you here, have they?” he murmured against my skin.
I shook my head, breath shivering out of me. “No—”
“You’re so damn tight,” he whispered, his voice rough. “So sweet.”
My hips trembled. My hands clawed at the sheets again. The room blurred.
“Don’t hide from me,” he said, dragging his thumbs along my inner thighs. “Let me take care of you.”
Something inside me loosened.
I stopped resisting.
I opened for him.
It felt like some deep, buried part of me—the omega part my father tried to train out of me—had finally decided what it wanted.
His breath hitched, the sound soft enough I knew I wasn’t meant to hear it. Not the president talking. Not the man who ruled an MC. Just Silas. A man kneeling between my legs, wanting me.
“Good,” he whispered. “Just like that.”
He slid two fingers into my ass, fucking them deeper and slow, stroking through the tight heat in a rhythm that made my back arch off the mattress.
At the same time, his mouth engulfed my cock again, sucking hard as he bobbed his head, his tongue swirling around the shaft while his fingers curled inside me, hitting that spot that sent sparks exploding behind my eyes.
My legs shook around his shoulders, my thighs clamped down on his ears.
My hands reached for him again without thought, tangling in his hair to hold him there as he worked me over from both ends.
“S—Silas,” I gasped.
He stopped.
Lifted his head.
Met my eyes.
“Say it again.”
“Silas.”
His jaw flexed, like the word went straight through him.
He lowered his mouth again and the heat of him overwhelmed everything, his fingers moving exactly where I needed it, his mouth sealing around me with slow, deliberate pressure that made me cry out, helplessly.
I slapped a hand over my mouth, too loud, too raw.
He tore it away instantly, fingers wrapping around my wrist.
“No,” he growled. “Let me hear you.”
The sound of that—dark, hungry—made something inside me twist tight and hot.
“S—Silas, I’m— I can’t— I’m gonna—”
“Yes you can,” he said, voice thick. “Give it to me.”
His fingers plunged deeper into my ass, thrusting in that relentless rhythm while his mouth clamped down harder on my cock, sucking with fierce suction that pulled me under.
The dual assault shattered everything—his tongue lashing the underside as he hollowed his cheeks, fingers curling to grind against my prostate—and the world detonated in a white-hot blaze.
Pleasure ripped through me so violently I couldn’t think.
Couldn’t breathe. My back bowed off the bed, my legs clamped around his shoulders, my voice broke open on his name.
“Silas—Silas—!”
I came hard, my cock pulsing wildly in his throat, spurting thick ropes of cum that he swallowed greedily, milking every last drop as my body convulsed and my cries tore through the room.
He held me through all of it, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth relentless until I collapsed back onto the mattress, shaking, spent, undone.
When he finally lifted his head, his mouth was swollen, his eyes dark, his breathing ragged.
“Fuck,” he rasped. “You say my name like that again, I might lose every bit of control I have left.”
My chest flushed hot. “I—I really liked that.”
He snorted softly. “No shit.”
“I mean…everything. How you… held me. How you…” I trailed off, my face burning.
His thumb brushed my thigh, gentle in a way that shouldn’t have made my throat ache. “Anytime you want that,” he murmured. “You ask.”
My breath hitched. “Anytime?”
A smirk tugged at his mouth. “As often as you can handle it.”
My stupid heart fluttered.
“You might regret saying that… you do have an MC to run.”
The second it left my mouth, everything changed.
His whole body went still.
The warmth drained from his expression. And the air tightened around us.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
He pushed off the bed so fast it rocked, raked both hands through his hair, then slammed a fist into the mattress once—hard—before stalking to the bathroom.
The door shut loudly.
And I lay there, still trembling, my throat tight, my chest aching, and I wanted to kick myself for reminding him exactly why he shouldn’t have touched me.
There was no mark, no knot…there was nothing permanent to show what we’d done, just my scent all over his sheets and a line we couldn’t uncross.
A single hot tear rolled down my cheek. And no one was there to see it.
If my dad could scent me now, he’d know instantly what I’d done, and I should’ve panicked…but all I felt was the hollow space Silas left behind when he walked out.