46. Lilith
CHAPTER FORTY SIX
O kay, maybe I wasn’t actually going to kiss the concrete.
I glanced down at the sidewalk, taking in the embedded black stains of old gum, the scuffed soles of passing shoes, a stray cigarette butt wedged into a crack in the pavement.
Yeah. Not exactly a fairytale moment.
But still—I was outside, and that alone felt like a miracle.
I lifted my gaze, taking in my surroundings properly for the first time, and—
“Oh, what the fuck.”
Sleek glass and warm stone stretched up into the sky, and shit—there were actual terraces, overflowing with greenery, spilling over balconies like nature had somehow infiltrated the bones of it.
And right across the massive glass doors, in big, bold letters:
Graves & Everly Technologies.
I squeezed his hand. “How the hell have I never seen this place before?”
He chuckled, tucking his free hand into his pocket. “You weren’t looking for it.”
I tore my gaze away from the literal tech empire in front of me long enough to shoot him a look. “You just… own this?”
“That’s usually how it works.”
“I was expecting an office. Not a goddamn institution.”
The moment we stepped inside, it was like walking into a well-oiled machine.
People moved fast, purposeful, conversations murmured into more of those asshole earpieces, the clack of heels and polished dress shoes echoed across the floors.
This was a place where people had shit to do, and they did it.
A security checkpoint stretched across the entryway with waist high scanners and a team of stone-faced guards in sharp, tailored suits. “Good morning, Mr. Grave s.”
Mr. Graves. Right. Because this Silas—the suited, powerful, king of an apparent empire—was the same Silas who made me breakfast every morning, who kissed my forehead like it was his life’s purpose, who ate me like I was the last meal on earth, and got adorably pouty whenever I teased him.
I knew he was important now. But still… seeing it in action was strange.
The scanner flashed green as we stepped through and headed toward a woman sat behind a reception desk, fingers poised over a tablet that probably cost more than my rent.
“Good morning, Paige,” Silas said, giving her a nod.
Her gaze flicked to me, polite but curious.
I arched a brow. “Do I need to give a blood sample to proceed, or am I good?”
She blinked, then laughed. “Oh, we stopped doing that last quarter. Budget cuts.”
Oh, I liked her.
He exhaled a quiet laugh beside me, shaking his head. “We’re heading up.”
“Of course.” She tapped her tablet, smile still in place. “What’s your guest’s name?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Lilith Whitlock.”
Her brows lifted slightly, just for a second, before she nodded and inputted my name. “Got it. You’re all set.” Then, with a look between the two of us, she smiled again, even warmer. “Have a great day, Mr. Graves, Miss Whitlock.”
He led me toward the elevators, and as soon as we were out of earshot, I muttered, “Where’s the chaos? The half-eaten sandwiches? The people crying in stairwells?”
His lips twitched. “We save that for the upper floors.”
Everything was much quieter on the top floor. Two women sat at separate desks outside a pair of office doors, each absorbed in their own tasks. The first, dark haired and sharply dressed, looked up immediately and smiled, “Good morning, Mr. Graves.”
I barely held back a snort. If I had to greet this many people every morning, I’d lose my damn mind. A simple nod would suffice. Or maybe a grunt.
I’d be a terrible corporate employee.
The second woman, blonde and just as professional, looked up too, her expression softening into an easy smile. “Good morning, Mr. Graves,” she said before glancing at me. “And you must be Miss Whitlock.”
I was surprised for all of half a second before remembering Paige had already input me into the system. Right. Fancy corporate shit.
“That’s me,” I said.
She nodded, smiling before turning her attention back to Silas. “You’ve got a finance meeting at eleven, a lunch call with NeuroSync at one,” she listed. “Legal wants you to review the new contracts for the Synthara acquisition, and Mr. Everly’s scheduled a check-in later this afternoon.”
He nodded. “Anything urgent?”
“Nothing that can’t wait.”
“Good,” he said, glancing down at me. “Come on.”
The second his office door clicked shut behind us, Silas turned, caught my wrist, and pulled me in.
His lips met mine in a slow kiss. His hands slid down my arms, then to the buttons of my coat, undoing them carefully before sliding it off my shoulders.
“Sit,” he murmured against my lips.
I moved to one of the chairs in front of his desk and he walked to the other side, settling into the ludicrously expensive chair.
I leaned back, letting my gaze drag over the room. It was ridiculous.
Warm wood, floor-to-ceiling windows across one wall, looking out over the city, the desk looking like it had been custom built for a mastermind orchestrating world domination. And that wasn’t even the most impressive part. There were screens. Everywhere.
Not just monitors, but big, curved displays mounted against the walls, glowing with complex data, live feeds, spreadsheets filled with numbers and projections that might as well have been another language.
A holographic projector sat in one corner, currently powered down, but looking like it could display a full 3D model at the push of the button.
Across one of the walls, a massive digital whiteboard stretched across the surface, flickering with diagrams, notes scrawled in his sharp handwriting, and calculations that looked like they belonged in a high-level physics journal.
He was in his element. Watching me, sleeves rolled up just enough to flaunt those sexy as hell forearms. He was effortlessly commanding, insufferably good at everything, and somehow even hotter when he was like this.
I’d spent a good chunk of the morning just watching him work.
Letting the quiet settle between us, pretending I wasn’t ridiculously enamoured by the whole thing.
But forty minutes ago, he’d disappeared off to a meeting, leaving me alone, sprawled across the couch in front of the glass walls, sending Molly a string of texts, and basking in the fact that I was here, in this world, with him.
The office door swung open, and he strode in, undoing the button on his jacket, rolling his shoulders like he was shaking off the meeting.
“That bad?” I asked.
“Not bad. Just long,” he exhaled, dragging a hand through his curls. “I have to hop on a call.”
And then he was gone. Not physically, but mentally, his attention already on whatever multi-million-dollar conversation he was about to have as he sat at his desk.
“Mmm. Take your time.”
I stretched on the couch again, shifting so that my dress rode up my thigh, knowing damn well his peripheral vision was too good for him to miss it.
At first? Nothing. No reaction. Not even a flicker. Just the steady rhythm of his fingers over the keyboard, the smooth, measured way he adjusted his headset.
“That’s not what I asked,” he said in a cool, brutal tone as he adjusted those ridiculously hot, professor-chic glasses.
I stilled.
“Fix it. Today. I don’t care what it takes.”
Oh. Oh.
That was sexy as hell.
I uncrossed and recrossed my legs, slower this time.
His gaze flickered toward me, brief, sharp as a knife, before dragging back to his screen. But I caught the way his throat bobbed with a slow, controlled swallow.
Interesting.
I let my fingers drift absently over my thigh, tracing lazy patterns like I wasn’t fully aware of what I was doing. Like I wasn’t watching him pretend not to watch me.
His knuckles curled into a fist on the desk, the veins in his hand standing out, running over his skin like something carved. “I don’t give a fuck about the numbers. I want the results. Are we clear?”
Oh, this was going to kill me. This was how I died. Right here, on this couch, watching my… whatever he was… be an absolute tyrant over Bluetooth.
“If you have time for excuses, you have time to fix it,” he snapped.
Maybe I did want to work in corporate. Maybe I’d go back to college. Was I too old for college? No, people went back to school all the time.
I’d learn tech. I could work a phone. I’d even figured out how to use his stupidly complicated smart panel to turn the penthouse lights on.
Then he could hire me. And I’d fuck things up on purpose, just so he’d talk to me like that all day long.
He drummed his fingers against the desk, clearly unimpressed with whatever response he was getting. “If I have to get involved again, it won’t be a conversation.”
Holy shit.
My thighs pressed together instinctively.
Yeah. I needed to start looking at college applications effective immediately.
“Good. Then do your job.” He hung up, threw his glasses onto the desk, and blew out a heavy breath as he pressed a hand over his face. Without a word, he stood and crossed the room to the glass side, hands sliding into his pockets.
I stepped up beside him and his arm came around my shoulders, pulling me in.
“I’m sorry,” he said, giving me a small squeeze.
I glanced up at him, brow furrowing. “For what?”
“For this. Fo r bringing you here and then working all morning.”
A smirk tugged at my lips. “Are you kidding?” I turned slightly, trailing my gaze over him. “I get to watch you work.”
His brows lifted, just a fraction. “And that’s… fun for you?”
I let my fingers skim lightly down his chest. “Oh, yeah.”
He let out a short laugh, but his breathing shifted, muscles tightening beneath my touch.
“You look a little tense,” I murmured, pressing my palm against the warmth of his stomach. “Anything I can do to help?”
His fingers tightened on my shoulders as he shook his head.
“Are you sure?” I asked.
His breath stuttered as my hand slid lower, over his belt, down—
“Lilith,” he warned.
I tilted my head up at him, fingers already working at his belt buckle.
“We had fun at the bookstore,” I murmured, dragging the leather free with a slow, deliberate pull. “Why not here?”
“Lilith,” he said again.
I just smirked, slipping my hand past his waistband.
“Damn. Didn’t realise spreadsheets got you this worked up,” I said as I pulled his cock free. He was thick and hot, already so hard beneath my touch.
He let out a low, rough chuckle, but it was cut off instantly as I tightened my grip, and his hips pushed forward, just slightly. His hand snapped down, gripping my wrist. But he didn’t stop me. Just held on.
My hand moved slow, dragging every slick stroke out just to hear the way his breath caught.
“You need to lock the door,” he said, voice like gravel.
Lock the door? Where was the fun in that?
I twisted my wrist, working him faster, harder.
“Please,” he gritted out. “My assistant is right outside. Anyone could walk in.”
I bit my lip, grinning as I stroked him mercilessly, dragging him to the edge.
Pushing up onto my tiptoes, I grazed my lips across his jaw before sinking my teeth into the sensitive skin at his neck, and his whole body shuddered beneath me, muscles rippling.
“Then you’d better come for me quickly, hadn’t you?” I tightened my strokes, dragging him closer and closer to the edge.
His fingers left my wrist, his hand slamming flat against the glass, his forehead pressing right beside it. His breath came in sharp, uneven gasps, the glass fogging beneath his mouth as his control fractured.
“Cazzo,” his voice broke. “I’m gonna—”
I pulled my hand away. Immediately. Completely.
“What the—?” His head snapped toward me.
I bit my lip gently, tilting my head as I looked up at him. “Do you want to come?”
His jaw ticked, his breath ragged, his hand curling into a fist against the glass. “Yes. Please.”
I wrapped my fingers around him again. The strokes started slow, teasing, making him feel every inch of it, before I picked up the pace to something rougher.
I bit back a grin, watching as his whole body fell apart in my hand.
“Lilith—fuck,” A deep moan ripped from his chest, echoing in the open space of his office. “Lock the door. Please. Lock the fucking door.”
His hips rocked into my fist and his fingers twitched against the glass, knuckles white. He was right there, right fucking there.
And I let go. Again.
A whimper left him as he bucked into nothing.
“Something wrong?” I asked.
He was shaking. Struggling. And it was beautiful.
Parting my lips, I let a stream of spit drip down onto his cock.
I smoothed my palm over him, rubbing it in, watching the way his stomach flexed beneath his shirt, the way his breath stuttered out in a wrecked exhale.
I gave a slow, twisting drag of my fist up his length, before my grip tightened at the base, squeezing, cutting off that last bit of relief before it could hit.
“Lilith—please—”
I dragged my thumb over the head, testing the sensitive ridge, pressing down. His legs spread slightly, like he was trying to brace himself. The moans that left him weren’t just loud now—they were broken and raw.
He couldn’t take much more.
He was right there. Again. Right on the brink. And I had him completely at my mercy, in the palm of my hand—literally.
When I released him, the sound that left his throat was utterly delicious.
I leaned in close, breath warm against his jaw, my voice nothing but slow, syrupy cruelty. “You sound a little desperate there.”
His head dropped further forward. “I’ll do anything. Please. Let me come. I need it.”
The way his voice broke on his plea sent heat rushing straight to my pussy, wetness pooling in my underwear before I could even think.
“Hmm.” I tapped a finger against my lips, pretending to think. “Okay.”
Then, I spun and walked away.
I locked the door and turned, leaning with my back against it, the solid wood pressing into my spine.
Silas stood the re, at the opposite end of the room.
His chest stuttering in uneven breaths, his forehead damp, dark curls clinging slightly to his temples.
His lips were parted and flushed. And his cock—standing hard and heavy between us, slick from my hand, still pulsing with the releases I’d denied him.
I let my head tilt back against the door, dragging my teeth over my bottom lip, letting the moment stretch, making sure he felt every damn second of it.
“Now,” I smirked. “Let’s try this again.”