51. Silas #2
My hands worked in tandem, a perfect rhythm, every nerve in my body tuned to the sensation.
She sat there, perched, watching me work myself with parted lips, pupils blown wide, breathing just a little too fast.
My hips jerked up into my fist, chasing the friction, toes curling against the sheets. Every muscle was tight, wound up like a wire, the tension building and building.
My free hand tr ailed up my stomach, dragging my nails over my skin, leaving red lines in their wake. Heat lanced through my veins as I laced my fingers into my hair, tugging hard.
A soft, breathless, desperate moan.
It wasn’t from me.
My eyes snapped open, locking onto her instantly.
She wasn’t looking at my cock anymore.
She was looking right at me.
At the way my jaw had gone tight, the way my lips had parted around a ragged breath, the way my brows had pulled together in the haze of pleasure.
I gripped myself tighter, dragging my fist up the length of my cock in one slow, deliberate stroke. I groaned again, louder this time, fucking my hand in slow, measured movements, never once breaking eye contact.
Her pupils blew wider, her thighs clamping even tighter.
“Tell me how good it feels,” she said on a breath.
My head tipped back again as I squeezed my cock tighter. “It feels—” I sucked in a sharp breath, my other hand running down my stomach, gripping my thigh. “So damn good, sweetheart. Like I’m gonna come already.”
She let out a quiet whimper, and my heart pounded erratically, a deep, harsh rhythm beneath my ribs.
Shit, I hadn’t done this in years. Couldn’t remember the last time I’d let myself go like this.
I shifted further down the bed, the cool sheets soothing against my overheated skin. My hand slowed, teasing, dragging over the head of my cock before I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked one in, rolling my tongue over the pad before pulling it free with a quiet pop.
Calm. Slow. Breathe. Just breathe.
She didn’t say a word, but I could feel the heat of her stare as I spread my legs wider, exposing myself completely.
Blood roared in my ears.
I slowed my strokes, dragging my slick fingers lower, teasing over the sensitive skin before pressing them in slow circles around my hole.
My stomach clenched, breath shuddering out of me. It had been too long.
“Lilith,” I groaned as my gaze dropped to her hand—fingers rolling over her nipple, tugging at the hardening flesh.
I pressed a little harder, circling slower, teasing myself the way I knew I liked it. The way I’d liked it before. My cock twitched in my grip, the pressure making my entire body tense.
Her lips parted , tongue darting out to wet them as she dragged her other hand down her stomach.
I pressed my finger harder, before slowly pushing inside. My thighs twitched, stomach clenching as tight heat wrapped around me, the sensation sending a sharp wave of pleasure rolling through me.
“Cristo… sì,” I groaned, rocking my hips up into my fist as I pushed my finger deeper, twisting it slightly, feeling the stretch.
I wanted to see more of her. Wanted her to touch herself, wanted her to spread those perfect thighs and show me how wet she was, how much she wanted this.
Her voice was soft, breathy. “Tell me.”
“Feels… good,” I rasped as I dragged my finger out just a fraction before pushing it back in as my cock leaked, desperate for more.
Her whole body was tight. One hand still rolling a nipple, the other resting over the soft patch of hair between her thighs. Close—but not close enough.
A desperate sound rumbled from my throat as I fucked my finger into myself harder, pressing deeper, pumping my cock in time with the movement. The stretch, the pressure—it had my abs tensing, my thighs tightening.
I needed more. I wanted more. My body burned with it.
My spine arched, a choked moan ripped from my throat as I pushed another finger inside. Fuck— fuck, that was good.
I curled my fingers just right, pressing against that spot. Dizzying pleasure streaked up my spine. My vision blurred at the edges, cock pulsing, pre-come spilling from the tip in thick, needy drips.
“Lilith.” My voice was hoarse, raw with need. “Touch yourself. Please.”
She didn’t hesitate. She crawled onto the bed, settling on her knees between my legs and pressing a finger to her clit in the blink of an eye.
Gesù Cristo.
My hips bucked off the mattress as I thrusted into myself with deep, desperate strokes.
“Yes,” I choked out, watching her, drinking in the way her body trembled. “Yes, don’t stop. Just like that, Lilith. Brava ragazza.”
“Tell me how good it is,” she moaned. “Tell me.”
“So, so good,” I groaned. “So tight—feels like—” I gasped as I pressed deeper. “Like I’m gonna explode.”
Her moan was pure sin, fingers moving faster over her clit.
“Lilith,” I rasped. “I need to taste you. Now.”
Her breath hitched. She dragged her fingers from her pussy, bringing them toward my mouth. I groaned, ready to take them in, to suck every last drop from her skin. But no. Not like this.
“No.” My vo ice was rough, commanding. “Sit on my face. Now.”
She hesitated. Just for a second.
“Now, Lilith.”
She moved slow at first, but then she did it. She swung a leg over me, settling her weight down, her pussy hovering just above my mouth.
I pulled my hands away from myself, gripping her hips instead. “Don’t you dare hover. I said fucking sit.”
She hesitated again, but I wasn’t playing games.
“You gonna make me beg for it? Make me work for the privilege of eating you out? Or are you gonna be my good girl and grind on my tongue ‘til you’re screaming while I fuck myself?”
I didn’t give her a chance to second guess herself. I dragged her down, shoved my tongue deep, moaning right against her clit as I plunged my fingers right back into my ass and wrapped the other tight around my cock, working myself in sync with every wet stroke of my tongue.
“Oh, my—oh—” she gasped, hands slamming against the headboard as she rocked against my mouth, frantic, desperate, using me exactly the way I wanted her to.
I groaned against her, tongue flicking and circling, drinking in every moan, every shudder, every squeeze of her thighs against my head.
My own hips rolled up into my fist, fucking into my grip as I kept my fingers buried deep inside myself, rubbing right against that spot that had my whole body shuddering.
“Silas,” she gasped, her fingers lacing into my hair, pulling me closer into her pussy.
The need, the urgency—it was overwhelming. She was all over me, grinding on my lips, my tongue, into my mouth, and I was so gone, desperate for relief but even more desperate to have her come flooding my tastebuds.
“Fuck—oh my God—” she came with a wrecked cry, thighs squeezing tight around my head, soaking my mouth, my jaw, my neck, as she came.
I groaned into her, licking her through it, feeling her pulse against my tongue, trembling above me, completely wrecked.
And fuck— it sent me right over the edge. I choked on a groan, hips jerking, cock twitching, pleasure roaring through me as I spilled onto myself, hot and messy and so damn good I thought I might pass out from it.
She slumped forward, her chest heaving.
I exhaled hard, drawing my hands back, the absence of the pressure almost dizzying.
Then, I pressed a kiss to her thigh and looked up at her with a grin.
She lifted herself off me, her own breath still shaky as she moved back down the bed, hovering over me. She traced a hand down my chest, her fingers light, dragging over the sweat-dampened lines of my skin.
“You okay, sweetheart?”
She smiled—th at lazy, post-orgasm, thoroughly fucked-out kind of smile—and tilted her head. “Are you?”
I exhaled through my nose, catching her hand, pressing a kiss to her palm. “Yeah.”
She searched my face, something soft and unreadable flickering behind those silver-streaked irises. Then, quiet, soft, almost fragile— “I miss you so much.”
It was a punch to the ribs.
My fingers tightened around hers. “I know. I miss you too.”
Her lips parted slightly, eyes flicking over my face, searching, before she pressed a kiss to my shoulder. “Come shower with me.”