Chapter 23 Luke
TWENTY-THREE
LUKE
The omelet is perfect.
Which is infuriating, because it proves two things: One, Silas really is annoyingly good at everything. Two, he was right to kick me out of the kitchen after I "accidentally" made him burn the first one.
So, now I’m sitting on his couch, wrapped in his too-big sweatshirt, legs tucked under me as we eat on mismatched plates, while something domestic and dangerous crackles in the air.
“I told you I could cook,” he says smugly between bites.
“You kicked me out of the kitchen,” I counter, stabbing a piece of omelet. “Which was rude and a little authoritarian, by the way.”
“You burned the first one trying to make me hard, Luke.”
“I was taste testing your resolve.”
He gives me a flat look. “You also stole a piece of cheese off the cutting board with your mouth.”
“I was making sure it was safe.”
“You were being a brat.”
“I was testing the ingredients,” I say, deadpan. “You should be thanking me for my quality control.”
He arches a brow. “You moaned while chewing.”
“It was very good cheese.”
I grin around the next bite, chewing slowly. His eyes flick to my mouth for a fraction of a second before snapping back to his plate. He’s trying so hard to focus.
Which is adorable.
And also a challenge.
I shift slightly on the couch, stretching my leg until my bare foot brushes his ankle. He doesn’t react. So I nudge higher, slow and innocent, the ball of my foot gliding up his calf.
Still nothing.
Fine. Game on.
I press a little firmer and slide my foot up the inside of his thigh, slow and deliberate, until it rests—light and playful—over the bulge that’s definitely already there.
Silas goes still. Completely still. And I hold back my grin.
I stab another piece of omelet and hum, my toes curling over his length, casual as ever. “You were saying something about me being a brat?”
His jaw tightens. His eyes drop to my plate, then snap back to mine. “You act like I won’t put you on your knees right here.”
A thrill shoots through me so fast I nearly gasp. My skin prickles. My cock stirs. I shift again, this time just to chase the pulse of heat low in my stomach.
“Promise?” I ask, voice pitched low. Breathless.
His gaze darkens. “Eat your breakfast.”
I pick up my fork again—but my heart’s pounding now, and I can barely taste a single bite.
Because holy fuck.
He means it.
I grin around my last bite of omelet, smug and aching with anticipation. Silas doesn’t say a word. He just… sets his plate on the coffee table. Slowly. Methodically. Without taking his eyes off me.
My pulse skitters.
Then he reaches for mine, fingers brushing mine as he lifts the empty plate from my lap and adds it next to his. Still quiet. Still watching me like he’s cataloging every twitch, every inhale.
I blink.
“Uh—”
He lunges.
I yelp as I’m tackled flat onto the couch, the breath knocked out of me as Silas straddles my hips and pins my wrists above my head with one hand.
“You little gremlin,” he growls, lips twitching. “You really thought you could tease me and get away with it?”
“Technically,” I pant, squirming beneath him, “I didn’t say anything inappropriate. I just used my foot—”
His free hand dives for my ribs, and I shriek, full-on shriek, as he starts tickling me mercilessly.
“Silas—Silas, no, wait—” I gasp between laughs, writhing under him, squirming against the solid line of his body. “You’re gonna regret—fuck—this!”
He doesn’t stop. If anything, he leans in harder, shifting his grip to hold me down while his fingers find the most unfair, evil spots just beneath my arms. I’m breathless. Half-laughing, half-pleading. And so, so hard it’s almost painful.
So is he.
We both freeze for a second, caught in the tension that slams between us—his body flush against mine, hips caging me in, breathing ragged and shallow.
His eyes drop to my mouth.
I lick my lips.
“You’re such a pain in the ass,” he mutters.
“And yet,” I whisper, grinning up at him, “you’re still on top of me.”
He groans, his mouth finding mine.
His mouth crashes down on mine, hot and hungry, all the teasing stripped away in one devastating kiss.
His grip loosens just enough for me to tangle my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, deeper, until I’m drowning in him—his scent, his heat, the way he tastes like coffee and something addictive.
I gasp when he shifts, grinding against me, and it’s not playful anymore. It’s desperate. Greedy.
“God, Luke,” he pants between kisses. “You make it so fucking hard to behave.”
“Then don’t,” I breathe, biting his bottom lip just enough to make him growl. “I don’t want you to behave.”
“You start something now,” he growls, mouth hot against my neck, “you better be sure you can take it.”
“I’m always sure.”
His laugh is low, almost disbelieving—but his hands are anything but hesitant. They skate down my sides, deliberate, reverent, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of me through touch alone. And I let him. I arch into him, needing more, needing everything.
He shifts his hips, grinding down, and I can’t help the moan that tears out of me.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “You make me want so much.”
“Yeah? What do you want right now?” I whisper, my fingers curling into his back, dragging down lightly—just enough to make him shiver.
Silas’s gaze pins me in place. Dark. Heavy. Unapologetic.
“You,” he says, voice wrecked. “Laid out for me. Writhing under me. Mine.”
I swear my entire body clenches around those words.
His mouth crashes back to mine—hot, hungry, a little desperate now—and I meet it just as fiercely. My nails dragging down his back. The weight of him on me is everything I’ve ever wanted.
He grinds down again, and I moan into his mouth.
Clothes disappear in pieces—his sweats pushed down just enough, my borrowed sweatshirt pulled off, boxers stripped off. It’s messy, clumsy in places, but it doesn’t matter. Because we can’t stop touching. Kissing. It’s as if we are both starving and have finally been allowed to eat.
Silas breaks away long enough to murmur, “Turn over.”
I hesitate—just for a second. Then I obey. The cushions shift as he settles on his knees behind me, palms skimming down my back. He’s slow with it. To the point I feel like squirming. I glance over my shoulder.
“You said you wanted me laid out,” I say, breath hitching. “What are you waiting for?”
He runs his fingers over the curve of my ass, squeezing slightly as he nudges my legs further apart, then runs the tip of his finger around my rim.
My legs shake at just that contact; my cock is leaking all over his couch cushions.
He’ll need them cleaned after this, but that’s a later problem.
Right now all I can focus on is that single finger hovering near my entrance.
I shift back, and the tip of his finger prods me. I moan.
“You’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” Silas says, as he leans forward and drops a kiss on my spine.
“Only for you,” I whisper, barely recognizing my own voice.
“Good. Because you’re mine.” He runs his hands back up my sides.
A shiver rolls down my spine, stealing my breath. His.
God. The way he says it—low and possessive and certain—sinks into something deep inside me. Something I didn’t realize was still starved.
I want to argue, maybe. Make a joke. Deflect. But my mouth won’t work. All I can do is nod, my forehead brushing the couch cushion as my fingers curl around the fabric.
Because I want to be his.
That’s the scariest part.
His hands smooth down my back again, slow and sure. His touch isn’t hurried. It’s patient. Purposeful. He cups my hips, then slides one hand lower, teasing the tight muscle where I want him most, making me tremble all over again.
“I’m going slow,” he murmurs, lips brushing the top of my spine. “Not because I don’t want you—because I do. So much. But because I need you to know this isn’t just sex for me, Luke.”
I glance over my shoulder. He meets my eyes.
And fuck, the way he looks at me—it’s not just lust anymore. It’s affection. Ownership. Something like awe.
“I know this is you letting me in,” he says, voice rough. “And I’m not going to break that trust.”
He moves back slightly, and I feel the loss immediately.
Before I can protest, he says, “Stay still, hermoso.”
The couch dips, and he kicks off the rest of his clothing and quickly exits the room before coming back with a bottle of lube.
“Don’t want to hurt you.”
“A little pain isn’t bad.”
He chuckles, popping the cap. “Pleasure is better.”
I hiss as the cool liquid touches my skin, and he works his finger inside of me, working me open until I see stars, and I’m just about ready to beg him to fuck me already.
When his fingers slip free, I arch my ass higher and spread my knees wider. I know what it must look like to him, and I don’t care. I am needy. I am a slut for him.
“Come on, Daddy, fill me with your big dick. Ruin me for anyone else.”
He growls, and I feel him settle exactly where I want him. His hot crown presses against my opening, easing past the ring of muscle effortlessly. “Is this what you want? Hmm, hermoso?”
He sinks into me, so fucking deep, and I clench around him, tightening my ass even more until he is the one that’s moaning. His Spanish falling over me like caresses. The one sure way for me to know how turned on he is.
“Fuck, yes. More.”
He doesn’t disappoint, and my own crown drags along his couch with each thrust, giving me double the pleasure. I’m going to come all over the cushions, I can feel it as my balls tighten, and that spark starts going off at the base of my spine.
“That’s it, harder. Oh—fffuuuccck—yeah.”
“You’re such a good fucking boy, Luke,” he says, the praise sending me straight into my orgasm. I squeeze him tight as I come, and I feel him fill me up.
Silas slumps onto my back, his breath hot against my skin as he presses lazy kisses across my shoulder blade.
I can feel his heart pounding against my spine, feel his chest rise and fall in sync with mine.
We’re both wrecked—sweaty, shaking, and probably making the worst kind of imprint on his couch.
“You good?” he murmurs, lips brushing the curve of my neck.
I hum, cheek smushed against a pillow cushion. “Define good.”
His laugh rumbles low in his chest. “Still breathing. Still able to form sentences. Not spontaneously combusting.”
“Check, check, and… marginally check,” I manage, grinning as my legs twitch. “But I might be stuck. Like actually stuck to your couch.”
He chuckles again and slowly shifts off of me, rolling to the side with a grunt. I flop onto my back, wincing as I peel myself off the leather, slick with sweat and other... fluids.
“Oh God.” I blink up at the ceiling. “We’re going to have to burn this couch.”
Silas props himself up on one elbow, smug as hell. “I like the proof of what I can do to you on display.”
“Pretty sure there’s me-shaped evidence all over it,” I groan, reaching down to swipe at the mess trailing across my stomach. “And inside me. I mean—your swimmers have fully taken up residence. Hope they’re paying rent.”
He huffs a laugh and leans over to grab his sweater, tossing it onto my stomach. “You’re unbelievable.”
“You’re the one who called me a good boy.” I grin, wiping myself off. “You brought this chaos upon yourself, old man.”
He arches a brow. “You’re lucky I’m too blissed out to spank you.”
“I’m lucky?” I gasp dramatically. “I’m the victim here. I got used like a personal massage toy and defiled on a couch that probably cost more than my tuition.”
“Defiled?” He snorts and gets up to grab a real towel. “You were begging for it.”
“Semantics,” I call after him.
A beat later, he returns with a towel and two water bottles and a familiar smirk. He hands me one and collapses next to me on the floor, brushing sweat-damp curls off my forehead before kissing me there. He drops the towel next to me on the couch.
For a second, everything goes quiet. Soft and easy.
I take a sip of water, then glance at the couch cushions next to me.
“I’m not… like, laying on the crime scene, am I?”
He groans. “I’ll clean up. Get in the shower, Luke.”
I grin. “You joining me, Coach?”
His eyes flash with something between amusement and heat. “Only if you promise not to slip and crack your skull.”
“Romantic and responsible,” I sigh dreamily. “God, you’re perfect.”
He shakes his head, biting down a smile as he pulls me to my feet—still completely, stupidly, wonderfully naked.
And happy.
Mess and all.