Chapter Sixteen #5
“You want to know?” His lips brush the shell of my ear, his teeth grazing over my earlobe, and I squirm against him, grinding my ass against the line of hard cock inside his pants.
He grips my hip, hard, stilling me. “Ah-ah, you asked for this. Now you’ll take it my way, anyway I want to give it to you . ”
I whimper as he trails one hand up my side, fingertips whispering over my ribs, then my shoulder to the frantic pulse in my throat. Every touch is agonizingly slow, like he’s mapping me, learning my body—learning where he can break me.
Then his fingers close around my throat, not tight, just enough to remind me who’s really in control. And it isn't me. My heart slams against my ribs.
“Breathe,” he orders.
I hadn’t realized I’d stopped. Air floods my lungs as I drag in a shaky breath, my fingers clutching the countertop.
He clicks his tongue. “Your impatience is going to get you in trouble if you aren't careful,” he whispers into my ear then presses a kiss to my jaw.
A desperate noise claws up my throat, something between a whimper and a moan. "The jury's still out on whether that's a threat or a promise." My words come out quiet and breathy, barely more than a whisper.
His low chuckle vibrates through me, and he rocks his hips against my ass in a slow, deliberate motion. "Guess you'll find out. "
His hand slides over my hip to the front of my jeans, fingers dancing along the waistband, toying with the button. The movement is questioning but still patient, silently asking for permission.
"I didn't get my shot, Silas. You agreed, one shot each."
"If you really want to know, like you said, you don't need it.
You need a clear mind so that you are present in the moment.
" His voice drops lower, softer. "Not everyone gets a first time that's actually worth remembering.
You're going to want to feel all of it. So, what's it going to be, Princess?
You still want to know or are we done here? The choice is yours."
How does he know that?
His fingers hover at the button of my jeans. The weight of his body still holding me against the counter, his lips press another soft kiss to my jaw. "The choice is always yours, " he says again, teeth grazing the tendon where my neck meets my shoulder.
I twist in his grasp just enough to glance over my shoulder. His jaw is clenched so tight I swear I can hear his teeth crack. He wants this just as much as I do. He’s holding himself back.
I arch into him. "I want it, all of it."
Silence. He doesn't move for what seems like forever but is only a few seconds. Then he mutters, "Fuck it."
The button on my jeans pops open, his hand slipping past the waistband, and the first brush of his knuckles against my clit steals the breath from my lungs. I gasp and my hands grip the counter. He doesn’t rush, just strokes my clit softly once, twice, before sliding lower.
"You’re already so wet," he growls, spreading my slickness with his fingers. His lips press gently along my shoulder. "Did you like the lime? "
I can’t answer. Not when he drags a thick finger through me in one slow, unhurried swipe. Not when he presses a finger against my entrance but doesn’t push inside. A choked noise escapes me instead.
Silas hums, amused, and it's infuriating . "Use your words, Charlotte."
I try to form words, but my mind feels like it's short-circuiting from his touch. His finger circles my entrance with a maddening patience, never quite giving me what I need.
"I asked you a question, Charlotte," he reminds me. "Did you like the lime?"
"Y-yes," I manage to stutter, rolling my hips against him, silently begging to feel him inside me. The hand at my throat slides down to cup my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations making it harder to focus.
"Yes?" He moves his finger away completely, and I whimper at the loss. I feel him chuckle against my back. "Yes what?" His teeth graze the sensitive spot where my neck meets my shoulder, and my knees go weak.
Words fail me completely when he slides one long finger inside me, so suddenly and perfectly that my entire body goes taut and I suck in a ragged breath. My grip on the counter tightens to the point my knuckles ache. A strangled moan leaving my throat.
"You need to be specific, Charlotte. Yes, what?" His tone is so calm while I'm falling apart. He pinches my nipple just hard enough to make me cry out. And then his finger stops moving. I rock against his hand, chasing the sensation of his finger moving inside of me.
"You feel so good, your pussy is squeezing my finger so tight. It's a damn shame I can't move my finger until you use your words, I can feel how much you want it. "
"Yes, I liked—" I start to say, but the words dissolve into a moan when his thumb finds my clit again. Not moving, just applying enough pressure to guarantee all I can think about is how much I want to feel his fingers moving inside of me.
"You liked what?" Even his voice is beginning to sound strained now, like his control is finally slipping.
"Liked when I ran the lime down your neck?
" His finger curls inside me, finding that spot that makes me clamp down around him.
"Liked when I circled your tight little nipple with the juicy flesh? "
My frustration finally forces the words out. "Yes! I liked the lime. I liked all of it." It comes out as a pathetic cry, the words tumbling out all together in one breath. I don't care how desperate I sound, I am.
"Good girl," he murmurs, and something about those words from his mouth, do something to me I can't explain. The praise, knowing I pleased him, it has a sudden rush of my arousal coating Silas's hand.
Finally, he begins to move his finger, so slowly I can feel every ridge of his knuckle moving inside of me. His thumb circling my clit in time with the slow thrust of his fingers.
"Silas," I whimper. "More," I beg, arching back against him.
"Patience." His lips skim the sensitive spot beneath my ear. "Slow down." His voice gentler than I've ever heard it. "I'll give you what you need, but I'll give it to you when and how I want. Just slow down and feel it."
I obey and draw in a shaky breath, trying to calm my breathing. He rewards me by adding a second finger, stretching me. With each slow stroke, his fingers curl to hit that spot inside me that has my eyes rolling and my mouth falling open. His lips brush the shell of my ear, “More?”
I whimper in response, rocking my hips to push his fingers deeper inside of me.
He groans and suddenly his other arm is wrapping tightly around my hips, pinning me in place and limiting my movements.
His finger crooks just so, applying a delicious pressure so intense that it makes my vision blur and I jerk against the counter, gasping.
“You like how that feels?”
"Silas—" His name is my only answer. The sensations are so intense I don't know if I'm asking him to stop or to keep going. Every movement sending shockwaves through my body.
"Breathe through it. I've got you. Just let go.
" I gasp, my hips jerking, but he holds me in place, making me take everything he is giving me.
I feel the pressure building, a tension coiling tighter and tighter inside of me, until the world around me shatters .
White-hot pleasure rips through my entire body, blinding and endless.
I don't even recognize the sounds coming out of my own mouth.
"That's it, just like that." His fingers continue to work me until I'm a trembling mess.
His fingers pull free, but he doesn’t let me go, his arms still wrapped around me as he presses a kiss to the back of my neck. "You good?"
"Yes, I'm good."
"Good to know." Then he is suddenly spinning me around to face him, his fingers hooking into the waistband of my jeans to push them down my hips. He crouches down in front of me, helping me step out of them. Folding them neatly, just as he had my bra, Silas lays them with the rest of my clothes.
His hands grip my ass where it meets the back of my thighs, and he lifts me effortlessly onto the counter. The shock of the cold surface against my bare skin makes me gasp.
"Are you sure about this?" His thumb traces my bottom lip, "Is this really how you want your first time to be? In this house? After what just happened? We can stop. We can go—"
"No." The word comes out sharper than I intended.
I look around the filthy, rundown kitchen with its peeling wallpaper and stained countertops, and then to my mother cooling on the floor, her vacant eyes staring at nothing.
"This is twisted, messy, and nothing like how it's supposed to be, but that's what makes it perfect, because we are twisted and messy.
I get to walk away from a home that has only ever given me pain, with a memory that is beautiful. "
Silas's eyes search mine as if he's trying to read every thought flickering through my mind.
His thumbs gently stroke the inside of my thighs.
We stay like this for what seems like forever, our breaths mingling in the space between us, staring at one another waiting for the other person to make the first move.
The tension builds until it's almost unbearable.
Then his hands tighten on my thighs, strong fingers digging into soft flesh, dragging me to the very edge of the counter until there's no space left between us.