43. Lilith #2
I squeezed his fingers. “For that night. For everything since. For being patient. For making me feel safe when I didn’t know how to ask for it.
For showing up, time and time again. For holding me like I’m breakable, but never making me feel weak.
For every little thing you somehow managed to notice.
Still do. Every second of it means more than I’ll ever be able to say. ”
His whole body tensed. He looked like he wanted to say something, like he had a million things trapped beneath his teeth.
“You were gonna get hit by an e-bike,” he blurted.
I blinked. “Excuse me?”
“It was an e-bike. It was gonna hit you.”
“What the hell are you on— oh. You’re joking, right?”
“I’m not.”
I clapped a hand over my mouth, but it was no use. The laugh ripped out of me, feral and uncontrollable.
“You could’ve gotten hurt,” he said.
“No, I could ’ve become a damn meme. You saved me from an e-bike, if that isn’t one of the most—”
I didn’t get to finish. His hands were gripping my face. Mouth crashing onto mine.
“Per l’amor di Dio, Lilith,” he muttered, pulling back for a second. “Stai zitta per una volta.”
His lips were on mine again, stealing the breath from my lungs.
“I don’t know what that means,” I said between hurried kisses.
“It means just kiss me.”
I sighed into his mouth, fingers slipping beneath his sweater, nails scratching along his stomach. His breath hitched, whole body tensing.
Yep. More of that, please.
I trailed my hands up his chest, feeling every dip, every hard plane, every shuddered inhale he took as I mapped him out. I slid my hands lower. His hips shifted. I pressed my palm against his cock through his pants, feeling the hard, thick length of him.
“Lilith.” His exhale was sharp as his forehead dropped to mine, his dark eyes hazy with want.
I slipped my hand beneath the waistband of his pants, then beneath his underwear.
His breath hitched violently.
I found him—hot, thick, hard.
Jesus.
His cock throbbed into my palm, a bead of pre-come slicking my fingertips as I wrapped my hand around him. He muttered a curse against my lips, his hips jerking slightly into my touch.
I stroked him slowly, savouring the way his body moved as his kisses grew messier, more desperate.
“Lilith.”
I smirked, squeezing a little tighter. He was so hard, so warm, and just feeling him like this, feeling the way he reacted to me, made something low in my stomach twist with raw need.
A violent flash split the sky, followed by a deafening crack.
I gasped, my entire body jerking in shock.
Shit.
I hadn’t even noticed how dark the sky had turned.
The city lights below were faint and hazy in the black sky.
Then the darkness split, and the rain came—fast and hard, pelting down in sheets.
“In! Now!” Silas was already moving, switching off the heater. I barely had time to yank my hand out of his pants before we were half-running, half-stumbling toward the elevator.
A monsoon of fr eezing droplets soaked through my clothes instantly, drenching my hair, sending a shiver through my spine.
He reached the panel first, slamming his fist against the button. The doors opened and he all but shoved me inside before stepping in after me.
I turned to him, hair dripping, pulse pounding. He was soaked too, his curls sticking to his forehead.
My eyes dropped to his pants. Still hard. I bit my lip. He cursed softly, his breath ragged, hands gripping my hips as I wrapped my fingers around his cock through the dripping fabric.
He kissed me desperately, like the few seconds of us being apart had driven him to the brink of death.
My fingers tightened, and his hips rolled forward just as the elevator doors slid open. We stumbled out, still kissing, still tangled in each other like we might fall apart if we let go.
He guided me through the dim room, rainwater dripping from our clothes, leaving a messy trail behind us.
“Silas, we’re wet through,” I muttered against his lips.
“Don’t fucking care.”
A deep sound rumbled from his chest, vibrating against me. In one swift motion, he lowered me onto the couch, his body covering mine, forearms bracing on either side of my head.
His mouth was back on me in an instant—kissing, biting, teasing—his lips dragging down the curve of my throat, teeth grazing my skin. My fingers fisted in his hair, tugging him closer as my back arched, pressing into him, chasing that heat, that friction.
His breath came fast and ragged, his pupils blown wide as he pulled back slightly, grabbed my hips, and dragged me across the cushions.
“Watch the sky,” he murmured.
He’d angled me toward the window, facing the chaos outside.
The storm flared wild, lightning flashing across the room in stark, electric white and thunder rolled low and deep. The glass was slick with rain, streaked and blurred, the city beyond writhing beneath the downpour.
But I couldn’t focus on any of it, because now, he was kneeling between my legs, peeling my soaked leggings and socks from my skin, but avoiding my shirt, leaving it clinging to my body, wet and untouched.
Dark curls fell over his forehead, raindrops dripping from the ends, his chest quaking with each laboured breath. Those deep, intense eyes locked onto mine as his hands slid higher, thumbs brushing against my inner thighs.
“You’re incredible,” he whispered as he traced light patterns against my underwear, each touch searing through the delicate fabric.
He leaned down, pressing a slow kiss right against the layer between us. Then another, and another. Each one sent shivers rippling through me, heat pooling low. I gripped onto a cushion, body tight, aching, waiting for him to—
“Silas, please,” I breathed.
His lips lingered for a moment, breath warm against me before his fingers slid up to the waistband, hooking beneath the fabric, dragging them down until they were gone, discarded somewhere behind him.
His gaze darkened as he traced his fingers along my skin, barely skimming where I needed him most. “I’m aching for you, Lilith. Please, let me have you. Let me fuck you.”
My brain stalled. “What?”
His eyes burned into mine. “Please, sweetheart. I’ll be so good for you. I promise. Please, let me fuck you.”
“Yes,” I breathed. “Yes. I want it. Yes. Please.”
A sharp, ragged exhale tore out of him. “Wait here.”
What? My stomach clenched as he stood and turned toward the hallway.
When he returned, his soaked clothes were gone, and in his hand—a foil packet he was tearing open with his teeth.
My tongue turned to dust at the sight.
“Where did you get that?” I blurted.
He smirked. “Got them delivered with the groceries last night.”
I gaped. “And you didn’t— ”
“No more talking,” he said as he slowly rolled the condom over his thick cock. His stomach muscles flexed as he gave himself a slow stroke, eyes locked onto mine, making me squirm.
He took a step closer, then another, until his knees were pressed against the couch and he was towering over me. “Come here, sweetheart.”
My pulse hammered as I shifted forward. Every brush of his skin against mine sent sparks skittering through my nerves, the heat between us blistering.
I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him flush to me, grinding into the thick length pressing right against my pussy.
His hands slid up the curve of my waist, then his weight shifted, his palm gliding up my side, along my ribs, until it slid behind my shoulder and he pulled me down.
I was locked between him and the cushions. Nowhere to go, nothing to do but feel the warmth of his skin, the weight of his body, the hard press of him where I needed him most.
“So beautiful. So damn perfect,” he groaned, forehead dropping against mine. His hand skated lower, gripping the back of my knee, lifting my leg slightly, lining himself up. “Tell me if it’s too much. If you want to stop.”
I nodded, but he didn’t move.
“I need your words.” His voice was hoarse, strained.
My heart thudded against my ribs as I grazed my nails across his shoulders. “Yes,” I nodded. “I’ll tell you.”
His lips brushed mine in a tender, reassuring kiss. And then, he pressed forward.
Slow.
Stretching me.
Filling me.
Inch by inch.
A sharp gasp tore from my throat, a perfect mix of pleasure and the exquisite burn of him sinking deeper, overwhelming every nerve ending.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his lips brushing my jaw.
I tried. Fuck I tried.
“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered, pressing soothing kisses along my cheekbone, my temple. “Relax. Let me in.”
I whimpered, fingers trembling as I gripped the nape of his neck and clenched around him.
“Cazzo… così stretto,” he groaned, hand splaying over my thigh, forehead pressing against mine. “You’re doing so well.”
A soft moan slipped from my lips as he pushed so deep, there was nothing left between us.
“You okay?” His voice was gravel against my skin.
“Yes,” my lips brushed against his. “Fuck me. Please.”
His control visibly frayed, the last shreds of restraint slipping as he began to move slowly. Each thrust sent waves of pure, liquid heat through me, the pleasure so sharp, so consuming, I could do nothing but cling to him, raking my nails along the ridges of muscle in his back.
Outside, the storm raged on, flashes of lightning streaking across the sky, thunder rolling in perfect sync with the frantic beat of my heart.
“I need more,” I gasped, desperation lacing my voice. “Please.”
He shifted, hooking his arms under my thighs, lifting them until my calves rested on his shoulders, the new angle making him feel impossibly deeper.
“Better?”
My head fell back, a broken moan escaping my lips. “Don’t stop.”
“I won’t,” he promised, voice cracking slightly. His pace quickened, each deep, hungry thrust slamming into me, sending shockwaves through my body.
“ Silas,” I moaned, the aching tension inside me coiling tighter.
“I’ve got you,” he rasped as his hips snapped against me. “I’ve got you.”
A wave of something unnameable crashed over me. Overwhelming. Drowning.