21. Ophelia
“Get your hands off my wife.”
Chandler is surprised, caught, scared even. He didn’t expect Silas. Me though, had he expected to see me here? How?
He does exactly as Silas says and lets me go and as soon as he does, I slip away, hurrying to the bathroom because Silas lied to me, and I had to learn about his lie from Ethan. He lied when he told me he would always tell me the truth and that is harder to bear than Chandler’s malice.
I stand at the counter and stare at my reflection. I look much like I did the last time I was here. Tired. Sad. Although a little less lost, I guess. But am I? Am I still trusting men I shouldn’t trust? The thought of Silas going behind my back hurts. What reason would he have? And why lie to me so quickly after he promised he was different from the others? Promised he’d prove it to me?
A toilet flushes and I clear my throat, switch on the water. A woman comes out of a stall, very clearly tipsy, and washes her hands at the sink next to mine. She makes some comment about the men at the bar but before I have to speak, the bathroom door slams against the wall and we both turn to find Silas standing there.
I’m not surprised, am I? This is what we do. How we work. He comes for me whether I want him to or not.
I should have left the restaurant when I could. Should have just taken my coat and walked out. But where would I go?
“I think you have the wrong room,” the woman says flirtatiously. “Not that I mind a tall, dark and handsome stranger?—”
“Out,” Silas barks at her, never taking his eyes off me.
The woman is clearly taken aback. I hear her short burst of breath. “Well?—”
He shifts his gaze to her. “Get. Out.”
She glances at me, then hurries past him, and I swallow as he locks the door then turns back to me. He eats the space between us. I face him, setting my jaw and glaring. Because I’m angry too. I’m furious.
“Nice stunt,” he says, a palpable, violent energy in his words.
“Stunt?”
“You met Chandler of all people?” He rounds on me, trapping me with my back to the sink.
“I met my father’s lawyer.”
“Really? I didn’t see him out there.”
“He left. Not that it’s any of your business. You lied to me. You left me for Nigella to babysit and outright lied to me!”
“What was that piece of shit telling you?”
“Doesn’t matter, Silas. You. Lied.” I poke at his chest for emphasis. “How did you even find me here? Are you having me followed?”
“Audi. It has a GPS tracker.”
“Of course it does.”
“Why would I have my wife followed?”
“I don’t fucking know. Why would you go see my grandfather behind my back?”
“And if you were here to meet Higgins, did it occur to you how coincidental it was that fucking Chandler Carlisle-Bent was here?”
It did, actually, but it doesn’t matter anymore. “I don’t have to tell you anything because you don’t bother to tell me anything. I’m leaving. Get out of my way.”
He doesn’t.
“Move,” I tell him, but he captures my arm and tugs me toward himself when I try to walk away.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, plucking the glasses from my face and setting them on the counter. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until you learn a thing or two.” He spins me around to face the mirror, pushes me down with one giant hand between my shoulder blades. The other he slips into the waistband of my sweats. In the next instant, they’re down over my hips pooling around my ankles, my panties quickly following.
“What the hell?”
Silas drags his eyes from my bare ass to my face in the mirror. “What the hell? Now you learn what happens when you disobey me.”
“Disobey?” I ask, my voice raised as I try to straighten. He, of course, doesn’t allow it. He just keeps me pinned with that hand at my back and with his free hand, delivers the first smack to my ass.
“Disobey,” he repeats, spanking my ass three times as if to make his point.
“Ow! Silas! Get the hell off me!”
“Oh, I will but only when I am sure you will feel me every time you sit down for the next few days.” Whack. Whack. Whack. “There is a fucking reason I told you to stay at the house. There is a reason we’re at that house in the first place.” He doesn’t stop spanking me, words controlled, not giving me a second to catch my breath and not giving me any room to wriggle away from his palm.
“You lied to me! You fucking lied!”
“Did you think I might have a reason?”
“Everyone seems to have their reason and I’m tired of it!”
He slaps my inner thighs to spread my legs and leans over me, so his mouth is at my ear and our faces are inches away from the mirror. “I told you to stay at the house because it’s the safest place for you. Chandler does not have the best intentions where you’re concerned. He’s outright dangerous. It’s why I went to see your grandfather. To find out what the hell I was dealing with. I didn’t want you to worry. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Christ, O, it’s like you didn’t hear a fucking word I said to you just a few hours ago!”
“Oh! I heard you but actions speak louder than words, Silas! And for me to find out the way I did?”
“I will come for you, O. I will always come for you. Everything I do, I do to protect you.”
“That’s why you’re spanking me?”
“Believe it or not, I don’t like punishing you.”
“No, clearly.” I reach back and grip his erection, so he knows I know just how much he doesn’t like it. “Another lie.”
Someone tries the door, which is locked, then knocks. Silas tells them to go away.
When I squeeze his dick, he moans, his cheek warm against my cheek, the scruff of his jaw rough on my skin. Our eyes remain locked in the mirror.
“But I admit, I like you like this. Bent over so I can spank your ass. Tell me something. Are you as wet as I am hard?” he asks and slides a hand between my legs.
“Screw you!” I cry out when he grins.
“Hey. Some of us have to use the bathroom!” a woman calls out.
“Fuck off,” Silas says, then meets my eyes, chuckling. “We’ll fuck angry. It’ll be good for us.” He reaches over me to pump soap from the dispenser into his hand, repeats a couple of times. “Ophelia, Ophelia, Ophelia.” He straightens. “Stay,” he tells me as he undoes his jeans and pushes them and his briefs down and I watch because as much as I hate the fact, I am wet. I hate that he’s right and he knows it, but it’s true. Having him this close, this dominant and this protective, it brings out a side of me only he can.
He grips his cock and rubs the liquid soap along his hard length. He then grabs my hips and tilts them up, using his thumbs to spread my cheeks apart.
“What are you doing?” I ask, panicked, realizing why he needed the soap.
He grins, drags his gaze from my ass to my face and brings his cock to my asshole.
“I’m changing tactics.” He pushes against the tight opening.
“What does that—” I gasp when he penetrates, my body not ready, trying to manage this intrusion, this thickest part of him. Even with the slippery soap to lubricate, my body resists. I grip the edges of the counter.
He glances at me. “Try to relax, sweetheart, or this is going to be rough for you.” He pushes in.
My breath hisses and I squeeze my eyes shut. “It hurts.”
“Punishments don’t work if they feel good.”
“Please.”
“Relax. Look at me.”
He moves slowly inside me and when I open my eyes, I see how his have gone a deep emerald.
“Did you hear me earlier tonight?”
“I don’t want?—”
He thrusts and I grunt.
“Did. You. Hear. Me?”
“Yes!”
“What did I say?”
I grit my teeth, refusing to give this to him.
“I’m about halfway in, sweetheart. Make this easy on yourself.” He gives a small thrust and I cry out.
“You told me you love me.”
“Right. What else?”
The knocking begins again.
“Fuck off!” he yells at the door then wraps a hand around my pelvis, fingers coming to my clit. I close my eyes wanting to resist but unable to. He leans over me, so his face is touching mine again. “What else, O?”
“That you love me no matter what.”
“Did you believe me?”
He moves slowly, rubbing my clit as he does. I nod.
“Good. Do you trust me?”
“I want to.” He pushes all the way and I bite my lip, pain and pleasure colliding, confusing me.
“Then do.” Something on my face must give him the assurance he needs because he smiles. “Good girl.” He cups my head, kisses my cheek. “Like I said, I don’t like punishing you. I prefer watching you come undone. So tell me, are you going to come with my cock in your ass?”
I nod again, greedy for it as my body relaxes to welcome him.
“Ready?”
I lick my lips and nod and he grins, before he starts to fuck me. Really fuck me.
“Are you going to take my come in your tight little ass?” he asks, spanking a cheek.
I nod. “Hard. Do it hard.”
“That’s my good, dirty little wife.” He grins.
I grip the edges of the counter because it’s not going to take me long, not with his fingers on my clit, his hard cock inside me. And his eyes, fuck, his eyes so dark and dirty on me.
The knocking on the door stops and I can imagine whoever is out there with their ear pressed to it listening to us fuck because we’re not quiet, neither of us. I come first and Silas moans with the sensation of my ass pulsating around him. I’ve never felt like this before. Never come the way I do with him. And as he spanks my ass once more, his thrusts grow more urgent. I feel him thicken inside me, his cock impossibly hard, and when he comes, he leans his weight over me and grips me tight, and throbs inside me, our eyes locked, my second orgasm stealing my breath away.