42. Silas #2
“You’re fucking drenched for me.” I dragged my knuckles over her wetness before pressing a fingertip to her clit, rolling it in slow circles.
My free hand slid up, splaying against the back of her neck. “Look at me.”
She did. Those wide eyes locking right onto mine.
“Silas,” she gasped, her thighs trembling slightly around me, her hands sliding up to tighten in my hair.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” I murmured, lips brushing against hers as I kept up the slow rhythm. I wanted to take my time. Savour her. Feel every little reaction, every small gasp, every subtle movement.
I slid two fingers inside her and she moaned, her head dropping against my shoulder as she rolled into my touch.
“That’s it,” I whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. “Just let me feel you.”
I curled my fingers inside her, pressing against that perfect spot. She was soaking me, my fingers, my palm, my lap. And every time she rocked her hips, the back of my knuckles grazed against my cock where it strained against my pants.
It was torture . Perfect, devastating torture.
“Silas—”
“Guardati,” I murmured. “Fucking yourself on my fingers. Take it. Use me.”
She let out a choked sound, her fingers digging into my scalp. “I want more.”
I stilled for just a second.
My cock throbbed, so hard it hurt. Every nerve in my body screamed at me to give her exactly what she needed.
“We can’t,” I said, voice tight and controlled even as I curled my fingers deeper, dragging another broken whimper from her lips.
She gasped, roc king into me. “Why not?”
I groaned, forehead pressing into her neck as I kept working her open, my fingers moving faster, coaxing her higher. “I don’t have protection.”
“Why—”
I didn’t let her finish. I crashed my mouth to hers, swallowing her question, kissing her deep, desperate, needing her to stop thinking for a second.
“Now’s not the time for discussions,” I said as I thrust my fingers into her harder.
“Can I touch you? Please, I need to at least touch you,” she panted.
She never had before. I’d never let her. Never let her wrap those soft fingers around me. Never let her feel just how wrecked she made me. But the barriers were down. She knew me now, and everything was fine.
I dragged my lips along her jaw. “Yes.”
I moved before I could think, pulling my hand from between her thighs, lifting her off my lap in one fluid motion and setting her down on the edge of my desk.
She was a vision. Wide eyes, lips kiss-swollen, my T-shirt hanging loose on her, the hem barely covering the soaked heat between her legs.
My jaw clenched tight as she settled in front of me. I didn’t know what to do. I’d touched her so many times. Had memorised every sound she made, every way her body responded to me. Had spent so much time craving her, worshipping her, needing her in ways I could barely explain.
But this? Her touching me? This was new.
She slowly, carefully, pulled my sweatpants down, taking my boxers with them, and the cool air hit my cock.
She lifted her gaze back to mine and I swallowed hard against the tightness in my throat as I gave her a single, slow nod.
Giving her permission.
Giving her everything .
Her fingers wrapped around me, light, barely there, but fuck, I felt it like a punch to the gut. A sharp breath ripped out of me, fingers digging into her thighs as she smoothed her thumb over the tip, spreading the wetness already there.
Gesù Cristo.
My head tipped back slightly, eyes shutting for half a second before I forced them open again.
I couldn’t look away. I wouldn’t look away.
Not when her fingers were wrapped around me.
Not when her thumb pressed against the sensitive underside before squeezing lightly at the base, then dragging her fist back up.
My hips jerked instinctually as I chased the sensation.
“Fuck, sweetheart,” I rasped as she picked up a slow, steady rhythm.
Her lips parted slightly, gaze flicking between my face and her hand, like she was studying me. Learning me.
And then she sp at onto my cock.
Heat shot through me, my whole body tensing at the slick warmth of it, at the way it mixed with the pre-come already wetting my length, making every stroke of her hand even smoother, even better.
“You feel so good in my hands,” she murmured.
“Jesus, Lilith,” I rasped, my hips jerking helplessly into her touch.
“I wonder how good you’d feel in my mouth,” she said with a smirk.
“Lilith.”
She kept stroking me, her smirk growing as she tilted her head slightly. “What?” she murmured, her tone dripping with innocent curiosity that I knew was anything but. “You don’t want me to?”
Fucking fuck.
Before I could get a grip on reality, she moved from the desk and sank down onto her knees in front of me, breath hot against my skin.
A kiss.
A single, open-mouthed kiss against the tip of my cock.
“Porca troia.”
She hummed, soft and satisfied. Then her tongue dragged up the entire length of my cock. From my balls to the tip—slow, deliberate, completely earth shattering. She traced the tip and slid along the ridge, watching how I reacted.
Every muscle tensed as she flattened her tongue against the underside, dragging it down, then back up.
Then wet, hot, pressure.
She wrapped her lips around me, sinking down, inch by inch, her mouth stretching, tongue pressing as she sucked me in.
A sharp hiss left me as I let one hand slide up to her jaw, tilting her face so I could watch her.
She couldn’t fit all of me—not even close. I felt the hesitation, the way she hit her limit, her jaw tensing slightly as she tried to adjust. My gut twisted.
“You don’t have to,” I rasped, trying to ease her away before she could push herself too far.
She ignored me, just let out a quiet, muffled hum around my cock and took me as deep as she could.
“ Fuck—” the vibration sent a shock through my spine.
She worked her mouth over me, tongue swirling around the tip, lips dragging down as she took as much as she could before pulling back, sucking and teasing.
Her hands moved with her—one wrapping around the base of my cock, the other gripping my ass, pulling me into her, taking me exactly how she wanted.
“Lilith…” my voice was strained. “Fuck yourself for me.”
She whimpered a round me, but she did it—her free hand slipping between her thighs, body jolting as she pushed her fingers inside herself.
“Make yourself feel good for me,” I coaxed.
The sounds alone were about to send me over the edge—the muffled moans slipping through her throat. The obscene, wet noise of her fucking her fingers into herself.
“Brava ragazza,” I groaned.
Her movements became more frantic as she fucked herself faster and took me harder, deeper.
“Now give them to me,” I rasped, my control hanging on by less than a thread.
She pulled them out, slick and dripping, then lifted them to me.
I caught her wrist, guiding her fingers to my lips, and sucked them into my mouth. I swirled my tongue across the pads, tasting her, consuming her.
She tasted way too good. Too delicious, too intoxicating, too much.
I pulled my cock from her mouth, every nerve in my body screaming at the loss.
I didn’t care.
I lifted her back onto the desk and crashed my mouth to hers, swallowing her whimper as I kissed her deep, tasting myself on her tongue. Her fingers twisted in my shirt as she wrapped her legs around me, thighs squeezing around my hips.
I was so fucking close that if I moved just right, I could sink inside her, feel the tight, wet grip of her around me, pulling me in, letting me take everything I’d been aching for.
Forcing myself to pull back, I slid my hands down her legs, fingers pressing into soft flesh as I wrenched her knees apart, spreading her wider for me.
I dropped to my knees and pressed a slow, teasing kiss to the inside of her calf, breathing her in. “It’s my turn now. Lay back for me.”
She did, slowly reclining onto the desk.
I licked up her thigh, savouring the way her body trembled beneath my mouth before I dragged my tongue from her entrance to her clit, groaning at how damn wet she was.
I did it again. And again. Licking. Sucking. Drinking her down.
Her back arched slightly. “Oh— Silas—”
I buried my face deeper into her pussy. My cock throbbed, pre-come spilling from me.
No. No fucking way.
No way was this woman making me come twice without being touched.
She tasted so damn good. So good I never wanted to stop. She was close, I could tell from the way her thighs started to tremble, from the soft, breathy whimpers that had turned into full-on moans, from the way her hands gripped the edge of the desk like she was holding on for dear life.
“I want you to come too,” she panted.
My cock throbbe d at her words, and I groaned against her pussy, refusing to stop, even as she reached down, threading her fingers through my hair.
“Touch yourself for me.”
Fuck.
I swallowed hard, tongue still stroking her clit as I slid one hand down my stomach, wrapping it around my cock.
“Just like that,” she whispered, hips shifting slightly as she held me there.
My fist worked over my cock, squeezing tight and sliding smoother with every stroke. I was losing my mind. My skin was hot and fevered, thighs flexing, cock twitching with every flick of my tongue against her clit.
“Grip yourself harder.”
I obeyed instantly, tightening my fist, dragging my palm down my cock in slow pulls. White-hot pleasure zapped through my veins, making my breath stutter, my hips buck into my touch.
“Do you like that? Touching yourself while you eat my pussy?”
I whimpered into her, body tensing, cock twitching at her words. The edge was right there. I was getting so fucking close. Too fucking close. I forced myself to stop, to pause, to hold back.
The ache in my stomach clenched so hard I nearly folded over, groaning against her pussy as I fought it.
Not yet. Not yet.
“No,” she scolded, tugging my hair. “Don’t stop.”
My whole body shuddered, mouth still working over her, cock aching in my hand as I started stroking again—slower this time, trying to pace myself.
“Good. Now faster. Let me hear you,” she ordered.
A moan tore from my throat for her. I was already barely holding on, but that? That was going to be the death of me.
“Please don’t come until I do,” she panted.
I let out a desperate, shaking moan, nodding frantically against her.
“You can be good for me, right?” she whispered.
I nodded harder, whining against her, my strokes getting messy.
“Now slow down,” she murmured, and I tried— tried so, so hard to listen, to be good, to follow her orders, but I was shaking, sweat beaded across my skin, every inch of me begged to let go.
“Silas,” she gasped, her whole body trembling.
“Please,” I moaned against her, circling and sucking her clit faster, squeezing the head of my cock in one last, brutal effort to hold off my own orgasm. “Please—come for me—I can’t hold on—I can’t—”
She cried out, thighs locking around my head, soaking me, drenching me.
That was it. Th at was fucking it.
I growled against her, tongue working frantically, drinking her down as she rode it out.
And I was gone. I shuddered hard, muscles tensing, come spilling over my fist, over my stomach. It stole the breath from my lungs, and I collapsed, forehead pressed to her thigh. “Brava, dolcezza… così fottutamente perfetta per me.”
I swallowed hard, pressing a slow kiss to her thigh.
Her eyes were heavy-lidded, dazed as her breathing slowed.
A soft smile tugged at my lips. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
She hummed, soft and sleepy as I stood, and scooped her up in my arms.
Her own arms looped around my neck, cheek resting against my shoulder.
She fit against me like she was made for it—like every curve and angle of her body had been designed to settle into mine.
And fuck, it had.
For a second, I was completely unable to move. I just stood there, holding her, anchoring myself to the quiet weight of what we’d just shared. This wasn’t just something physical. It was something that wound its way around every nerve and vessel.
When I finally coaxed myself to move, I did it carefully, because she deserved softness after the way we’d both unravelled. I walked to the bathroom to take care of her, every step steeped in something tender I wasn’t sure how to name.
All I could think as I ran the water and reached for the towel, was— How did I get so lucky?
Not even in the dazed, post-orgasm kind of way.
But because she was here. With me.
She’d let me close.
She’d trusted me time and time again, enough to fall apart in my hands, enough to let me fall apart at her mercy.
I didn’t know what the hell I’d done to deserve her, but I was sure as shit going to spend every second I had trying not to fuck it up.