chapter thirty-one #4
Our pace quickened, and his thrusts in my mouth got rougher, needier. His cock smacked the roof of my mouth before slipping down my throat.
I let out a gag as he quickened, gathering my hair back as if not to obscure my task.
Suddenly, a warm rush flooded my mouth, and I choked.
He immediately let go of me. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He panicked, sitting up quickly.
I spat on the floor and let out a few more coughs.
I peered down at his cock. Those same spines were now erect.
They hooked out like barbs, presumably to keep it inside whatever it was buried in upon release.
They quivered, flexing out as if upset that they did not get to hook into anything—their only purpose.
I saw something dripping from the spines as well, an amber liquid mixing with his cum.
“They have venom too?”
“It’s for the pain. The spines, they inject something for the pain, I think,” he said quickly, sensing the questions brewing in my mind. “I don’t really know the specifics. I just know they’re similar to the ones in my teeth,” he admitted.
“How considerate.” I crawled next to him to face him. “What else can you do?”
He gave me an annoyed look. “Nothing you need to be concerned with.”
“What if I fucked you? Would that”—I gestured downward—“not be something I would need to know about?”
“I told you already, I’ve never used them.” He glared. “As cruel as you think I am, I would never do that to a human.”
“But you would do it to something else?” I suggested.
“Oh no, I am just saving it for someone special ,” he said, a mocking edge to his tone, pulling up his trousers and buttoning them again.
I sighed and rested my head on his shoulder, looking at the fire dying in the mantle.
The tips of his fingers trailed up and down my back as we sat there.
There it was again, that warm feeling. It was not natural to feel this for the person capable of killing you.
The danger might have been the thing that made it feel so much more intense.
It could be some sort of Stockholm syndrome, but I had never met a man so interesting.
It only made sense that he was not even human—I was not easily satisfied or entertained like this.
“So how old are you?”
“I thought women, of all people, would know never to ask that.” Silas laughed, trailing his fingers through my hair as I basked in the warm water between his legs, my back resting against his chest.
“I don’t think the rules apply to those who are hundreds of years old, or that’s at least what I gathered when you started to talk about the black plague.” I looked over my shoulder at him, blowing a handful of soap suds in his face.
He rolled his eyes and gathered my hair in his hands, beginning to plait it slowly.
“You know how to braid?”
“Of course I do. I have sisters.”
My eyes widened. “There’s more of you?”
“They are nothing like me, but I remember some from when I was young who taught me, and then I also taught one of the younger ones.”
“That’s…quite sweet actually.” I smirked. “I can’t imagine you as an older brother.”
“I’m the eldest of my father’s spawn.”
“Are you still close with them?”
“Just one. The others have spread themselves worldwide, not heard of in some time.”
“Will I get to meet her?”
“Why do you talk to your father’s grave? I thought you didn’t believe in the supernatural.” He changed the subject.
“I thought you to be impossible, but here you are,” I replied, rubbing the skin over my collarbone mindlessly. “You said earlier that you were born, correct?”
“Yes,” he said slowly, curious about where I was going with my question.
“The spines,” I started. “Do they play a role? You didn’t explain the reproduction process.”
“I didn’t think I had to.” He grinned, placing the braid over my shoulder and wrapping his arms around my waist. “The spines are meant to hold you in place,” he said against the crook of my neck.
“Hypothetically, if we did?—”
“No. Vipera cannot breed with humans.”
“Oh,” I mumbled, leaning my back against him as I watched his hands.
“But,” he began, “if you turned, that would be different. Only because you are a Host.”
“I see.” I trailed my fingers along his forearms.
Silas let me absorb the new information and began to smooth his hands over my back, massaging my tense muscles. He made his way down to my lower back and pressed.
I yelped when he pressed on my lower back, and I whipped my head back at him. “What the hell?” I growled.
He looked at me surprisedly and held up his hands. “I didn’t do anything!” he scowled. He gently moved his hands back over the spot. My skin crawled at the touch. “Is there some injury I don’t know about?”
“I don’t know. It’s been hurting for a few weeks now.”
He pushed my torso forward so he could inspect it further. His body tensed as he ran his hands over my spine.
“What?” I looked over my shoulder.
He reached over the tub railing to the side table, grabbed a small hand mirror, and pointed it at the spot on my back so I could see.
Two vertical punctures lined up with my spine on the lower vertebrae, still irritated as if only days old.
My blood ran cold, and I shot him an accusatory glare, but Silas looked just as angry as his eyes fixated on the punctures.
This wasn’t from him.
“You’re leaving tomorrow. I can escort you to Miss Aston’s place.
” He placed the mirror on the side table before getting out of the tub.
“You are going to get on that train with her as soon as possible. I will purchase tickets for an earlier train for both of you.” He wrapped a towel around his waist, leaving me more confused than I was before.