Chapter 13
Terran
The time between climbing into Silas’s car after dinner, three doggybags worth of leftovers and fresh meals tucked carefully into his backseat richer, and us reaching the gate leading up to his house, felt close to the blink of an eye.
If I thought dinner had been charged with unresolved tension, being stuffed into a small car was even worse.
I was flying high from seeing him react to my words, his intense stare growing hazy with lust at each additional piece of info I’d fed him.
Honestly, I didn’t think he’d care about any of it until a hand slapped hard down onto my leg the moment we idled at a stoplight and squeezed hard enough to bruise my skin under my pants—letting me know I was in for it the minute we got out of this car.
I was too ready, too amped up from dinner, to care at all how sore I was going to be in the morning.
I was used to waking up in some amount of pain from my injury, anyway.
The second he parked us in his garage and got out on his side, I had about five seconds to unbuckle and push my own door open before he was dragging me out like some perp being hauled off to county for the night.
As soon as I was steady on my feet, he kicked the door shut and held a firm grip on the back of my neck.
“Food,” I managed to say before we got too far.
I was horny as fuck but there was no way in hell I was letting my sister’s next two meals go to waste because I was busy thinking with my dick.
Silas paused, blinking slowly while my words registered. He let go of me only for a brief moment to rescue the bags of food from his backseat and then his hand was finding its place on the back of my neck again to march me toward the inside door.
Things blurred together while we stepped into the house and I was led to the kitchen. My senses were too stimulated to get a good look of his place and admire the wealth that was no doubt dripping from the curtains to the damn hardwood floors.
All that registered was Silas’s warm hand burning the back of my neck and his body hovering just out of my peripheral.
“Bedroom,” he said, a hand sneaking out to slap one of my ass cheeks.
I nearly buckled, my knees locking together while I fought the moan trying to work its way up my throat. Busting in my pants before he even got to strip me down would be too embarrassing to face after so much build up to this.
But what the hell else was I supposed to think about with him this close to me?
Touching me?
I was only human.
Thankfully, he was quick with guiding me to his bedroom. The space opened up into some huge room I had no time to process before the grip on the back of my neck was suddenly tightening and forcing me down to the floor.
“On your knees.”
The rough edge to his voice drove me insane, making me collapse down in front of him until I had to crane my neck back just to look up at him. He was pulling in a few soft breaths, the tent in his slacks quite obvious from down here.
For some reason, pride bloomed within me.
To think that me, of all people, could turn a man determined to remain as composed as possible no matter the situation into someone clearly far more emotional than he let on.
Gone was the ironclad control and in its place was a man who was right on the edge of letting this consume him. I wanted that—needed it. I needed to see what insatiable beast was fighting to come play with me.
He grabbed a hold of my jaw, squeezing my cheeks. “Open your mouth.”
Gladly.
I parted my lips instantly.
The thing about going into law enforcement was that it encouraged my craving for structure and direction. Being told what to do was in the inherent nature of a fundamental hierarchy. I wanted to be led and praised for my obedience and got it in the forms of a pat on the back every once in a while.
It was never enough.
I always wanted more.
Insatiable to the point of insanity.
Silas struck me as the type to never disappoint. Hopefully, I wouldn’t come to regret tonight.
He made a show of unbuttoning the front of his pants, precise flicks of his fingers that pulled the button from the hole and then used it to tug the sides apart. His hands were always fascinating to me—things used to stitch people back together like worn fabric coming undone at the seams.
How often were these same hands that held my face a tool that saved a life?
Countless, I’d wager.
An unfathomable amount of hours spent under the harsh lights of the OR, clipping, extracting, sewing, cauterizing. Incredible work done by a man who pretended not to care. Or at least, never realized he did.
If he truly didn’t, he’d have no reason to continue to track me down and make sure I survived to see another day. No sociopath only interested in the money and notoriety that came with the title gave that much of a shit.
A thumb hooked under the hem of his slacks and then dragged them down past his hips, no underwear in sight.
Of course he goes commando.
The second his cock popped free, it nearly slapped me in the face. Giant and veiny, a healthy pink color that darkened at the tip. The thing had to be twice the size of mine and girthy as fuck.
“You’re kidding me.”
Wealth.
A high paying job.
A big dick.
What the fuck else did the universe need to reward this man with?
“Never seen one before?” He gripped himself by the base in order to use it to drag the wet head across my cheek. “You didn’t strike me as a virgin, Bishop, with all that shit in your closet.”
Ha ha, funny.
“Guess you’ll never find out.”
His hand tightened on my face. “How good are you?”
I popped up my brow. “At giving a blowjob? I’ve never had complaints. Why?”
“Just checking.”
With what? I almost asked right up until his hand shifted to the back of my head to grip my hair to anchor me in place while he shoved himself past my lips and straight down my throat.
The muscles constricted around him instantly, my hand coming up to slap against his hip while I braced myself not to gag.
He held me there with my nose pressed against his freshly shaven pubic bone, his eyes burning into me while mine prickled with tears.
Holy fuck.
He was so fucking lucky this was hot. Normally, I never deepthroated a guy. Especially one his size.
He was a tight fit, cutting off all of my oxygen and causing me to grow dizzy as the seconds ticked on without another morsel of air being dragged past my lips.
This was the kind of thing that was sure to tip me right over the edge into subspace, something I’d only experienced once a couple of years ago.
Back then it was scary to come out of, not knowing what happened before I’d worked up the courage to do my research after the fact.
Since then, I’d been searching for that high again. To experience it full-well knowing what the hell was happening.
When he yanked me back again, I sucked in a few greedy lungfuls of air. My face felt flushed, both from not breathing and from how hot this was. He shoved himself back into my mouth, his cock twitching when my throat constricted around him again.
A soft grunt tumbled past his lips and had me instantly spreading my legs and gripping my own hard on trapped inside my pants.
The relief wasn’t at all what I wanted.
Spit dribbled past my lips and down my chin, slicking the lower half of my face when he pulled me off of him again.
“One more,” he murmured, raking in a deep breath.
My balls squeezed. Oh my god, I was actually going to come in my pants. Watching this man come undone was better than getting fucked.
Practically unhinging my jaw for him, he rolled his hips in an easy motion, a harsh exhale escaping him the moment my lips sealed around him and trapped him inside the warm heat of my mouth.
This time, he didn’t shove himself down my throat and gag me, instead he kept the tip pressed against the inside of my cheek.
His other hand came around to cup the back of my head while he fucked my mouth. Slow and lazy, taking his time. His expression shifted just enough to be noticeable the second my tongue glided along the underside of him, tracing that thick vein.
I wondered how he looked with other people. When he let another man get down on their knees for him.
Did they get to experience Silas like this, too?
Or was that only reserved for me?
My lips smacked together when he pulled out again, his cock dripping from my spit and jumping once as the cool air hit it. My throat ached.
Silas really was impressive to look at.
Up close like this, the tattoo spanning across his hip was easier to see.
Unlike the flash I’d seen in the hospital, from here, I could recognize the swirling pattern that looked almost like thick filigree.
Blacked out in dark ink with red and orange outlining the arches of the swirls.
The stark contrast between the colors was beautiful.
As soon as I reached up to touch him, he slapped my hand back.
“Up,” he said, grabbing the front of my jacket and hauling me off the floor.
I stumbled backward as he shoved me, tipping over the second the backs of my knees knocked against the mattress and landing me flat onto the cushy surface. Down feathers cocooned me instantly. It was silky to the touch, suggesting an astronomically high thread count.
Of course he’d sleep with a fucking duvet. No doubt costing more than my weekly paycheck.
He made quick work of stripping my shirt and pants off, clearly not in the mood to peel them off my body like he’d suggested the last time we were in this position. I had a feeling—or maybe it was a hope—that he was too turned on to wait any longer, my teasing from earlier finally coming to a head.
I lifted myself up onto my arms to watch him.
He paused and took in the garter set he’d picked out, complete with the stockings that were held up by the clips attached on the sides.
I’d paired it with two matching thigh bands, with small dangling crystals that were sewn into the fabric like small rain droplets, hanging down and dragging against my thighs when I moved.