Chapter 14 #2
The space between us vanished. I could feel the warmth of him now. His fingers brushed the edge of my sleeve, tracing down my arm with reverence. “Tell me what your punishment should be,” he challenged.
But I couldn’t. My throat closed. Words left me.
His hand rose, cupping my cheek with a gentleness at odds with the hunger in his eyes. His thumb traced the faint scar there, a touch so soft that it made my breath catch.
“Tell me what you want,” he urged, leaning in until his breath ghosted over my neck, deliberate and claiming.
A tremor rippled through me. My eyes fluttered as his tongue grazed my skin.
“You,” I breathed, my voice barely above a whisper.
He hummed deep in his throat, the vibration melting beneath my skin.
When his lips finally found mine, it wasn’t with hunger, but with something deeper. It was an ache, a longing buried beneath restraint. His kiss was slow and unhurried, as if he feared that to move too fast would break the spell entirely.
I melted against him, the warmth of his body seeping through the thin fabric of my nightgown.
For the first time, my thoughts ceased their relentless spinning. I didn’t care about his aunt or the constant nagging in the back of my mind.
If madness waited at the end of this night, I would walk to it willingly.
There was only this. His breath, his hands, his lips moving with mine, and the slow, shattering tenderness of two souls reaching for each other in the dark.
“Take your gown off,” he murmured, giving only enough space to watch as I did as he commanded.
The fire cast a molten glow over my bare skin. Instinct had me lifting my arms to hide myself, but he caught my hand, his grip firm, unyielding.
“No,” he said softly, but with an air of command. “Don’t hide from me.”
Shame burned. Desire burned hotter.
He guided my hand downward between my thigh, pressing my fingers into the slicken heat that already pooled there.
“Show me,” he encouraged, voice dark silk. “Show me what you want me to do to you.”
I froze. Heat flooded my cheeks. “I… I don’t know how.”
His lips curved into a knowing, sinful smile. “Then I’ll teach you.”
He knelt before me like a worshipper at an altar, but there was nothing holy in the way he touched me. His hands slid along my thighs, gently, coaxingly, until he parted them and drew a shudder from my lungs.
I breathed deeply, my pulse racing as I remembered the things he had done to me before. My anticipation pulsed like a wave through my body, wanton and wicked.
But instead, Sylum took my hand in his again, leading it back to my center. He didn’t touch me, instead he urged me, showed me how to appease what my body demanded.
When my hesitant fingers moved—guided by his over mine—my breath broke in a soft, startled cry. The world narrowed to the molten pull of desire coiling low in my belly. Shame, and yearning twisted together until I no longer knew where sin ended and heaven began.
My head lolled back.
My fingers moved in slow, dizzying circles. All shame fell away as the tension built, strung so tight that I wanted to cry from the mix of pleasure and pain.
“That’s it,” he murmured, brushing his lips along my thigh. “Give in.”
I rolled my hips, seeking something more. I needed… I didn’t know what I needed…
More.
Sylum’s hand left mine. My fingers froze, disappointment coursing through my veins. He shook his head when I looked at him. “Keep going.”
I did as I was told, mimicking what he had taught me. The delicious ache built once again until I was moaning in equal parts elation and frustration.
He reached for me, holding my hand in place as he moved behind me. In one smooth, effortless motion, he bent me at the waist over his desk.
My heart pounded and when my hand stopped moving, he simply reached down to guide it back between my thighs.
His lips brushed my ear. “Don’t stop,” he commanded, “I want to hear how badly you need me.”
I obeyed because defying him would have shattered me. Because the sound he made as he watched me unravel stole the last of my sanity.
I vaguely felt him shift, then heard the echo of rustling fabric from behind me. I had no idea what he was doing, but it was taking too long. If this was the punishment he had in mind, I think I would have rather been locked away.
“Please,” I begged, my face pressed to the cool wood desk.
The plea broke something in him. His body pressed fully to mine, his hand covering mine, guiding me again with slow, agonizing precision until my knees weakened beneath me.
I heard him moan then felt the thick hard length of him against my backside.
“Spread your thighs, Lucy,” he urged, and I did.
When he pressed himself inside of me, I cried out from the sheer pleasure of it. He pulled out then pressed in, slowly, filling me so completely that I nearly forgot to keep my hand moving between my thighs.
He stopped, his body trembling with restraint. “Keep going, love. Don’t stop or I’ll leave you aching.”
I did as I was told, obeying so that he wouldn’t stop again.
My moans echoed through the room, the sensation building so high that I begged, pleaded for release, yet I never wanted it to end. I wanted to live in this euphoria.
The pleasure built, I rocked back against him, meeting his strokes until at last the wave crashed through me. When the dark pleasure crested and shattered through every nerve like lightning, my very soul cried out his name. A single blissful tear slipped down my cheek, falling onto the desk.
Sylum carried me over the threshold of ecstasy until the last ounce of rapture was drained from my body. And only then did he take his own pleasure, filling me with himself.
And for one disquieting, intoxicating moment, I didn’t care whether he saved me or destroyed me, only that he never let go.