62. Slumber
Slumber
Helena
And above all things have fervent charity among yourselves: for charity shall cover the multitude of sins.
With Kiran tucked in for the night, I step into our bedroom, finding Silas waiting for me. The bedside lamp casts hazy shadows across his bare chest, the stark white sheets only making his olive skin look darker, more tempting.
“Come to bed, wife.” His voice is rich, his eyes gleaming as he watches me.
A slow heat unfurls inside me as I turn my back to him, my fingers slipping beneath the hem of my t-shirt. I peel it over my head and let it fall, followed by the slow descent of my jeans. The air shifts as I unhook my bra, the layers of lace sliding down my arms, making my breath hitch.
Behind me, the bed creaks. The heat of his gaze is as tangible as a touch.
“I’m growing impatient, Caroline.” His warning is quiet, and it sends a shiver down my spine .
I turn to face him. My pulse races as he absorbs my presence, his eyes growing hungry, his body taut under the sheet. I reach for the lamp to douse the light, but his voice stops me.
“Leave that on.”
A slow smirk touches my lips as I step forward, crawling onto the mattress. He lifts the sheet, and the moment I straddle him, I realize he’s bare—hard and ready.
“Today was a good day.” He smiles, rocking his hips against me.
“It was. Do you have a celebration in mind?”
“I do.” His hands cover my hips, pulling me flush against him. My breath stutters as his length presses into me, the heat of him searing through the thin fabric of my panties. A deep sound rumbles from his chest as I grind against him, teasing, testing.
His hands glide up my sides, thumbs tracing the curves of my waist before moving higher, cupping my breasts with a reverence that makes my stomach tighten. I exhale sharply as his mouth finds me, lips and tongue claiming my skin, sucking, tasting.
The day fades away, dissolving into nothing but this. His touch, his breath, his need.
One hand drifts lower, fingers tracing a slow path to my inner thigh, then slipping beneath the lace of my underwear. His fingertip grazes my clit, and I jolt, pleasure tightening through me like a drawn bowstring.
“I need you ready for my cock, Caroline,” he murmurs, his voice like gravel. “Tell me what you need.”
A shudder rips through me as his fingers circle, tease.
“Kiss me, Silas,” I breathe. “Play with me. Tell me I’m yours forever.”
His hands move, tangling in my hair, pulling me down until our lips hover just a breath apart. His gaze burns into me, fierce. “You and me, forever. I promise.”
Then I kiss him—claim him, just as he claims me. My lips part in invitation, and he takes it, devouring me, deepening the kiss with a hunger that sets my body aflame.
Our bodies molding together, our breath mingling as he leans back, taking me with him. The world outside ceases to exist.
He tugs at my underwear, breaking the kiss just long enough for me to lift off him and strip them away. The second they hit the floor, I’m back, lips on his, fingers in his hair, rolling my hips against him.
His head falls back onto the pillow, his mouth curling into a wicked grin.
“Bring that pretty pussy up here,” he growls, voice thick with need. “Let me taste you, wife.”
His hands lift my hips and guide me up his body until my center hovers just above his mouth.
“Sit. Let your husband worship you.”
I sink onto him, and the moment his tongue flattens against my clit, an abrupt gasp escapes me. My eyes flutter shut as he drags his mouth over me. Licking me, tasting me with every suck and kiss. Each flick of his tongue designed to unravel me.
My hips find a rhythm of their own, rolling against his mouth, chasing the pleasure that builds too fast, too deep. My fingers curl around the headboard, knuckles white as I fight to keep my sounds quiet, but it’s useless. He knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I force my heavy lids open, looking down just as his gaze locks onto mine. Lust and possession burn in his eyes, dark and infinite.
“You like watching me?” The question escapes me, quiet and breathless.
He stills for just a moment, lips glistening, a wicked smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.
“Caroline,” he drawls, “I would die a thousand more deaths just to watch you like this. To see you come undone on my tongue.” His fingers dig into my thighs, his voice dropping to something sinful.
“The sounds you make are better than any hymn. This”—he presses a kiss against my inner thigh, sending a shiver racing through me—“is my sanctuary. This is where I find peace and hellfire.” His breath is hot against my slick skin, his grip unrelenting .
“You are my sin,” he growls, “and my saving grace.”
Then, his lips brush my core once more. “Now,” he begins, voice edged with unholy resolve, “baptize me in your waters."
His words wreck me. A sharp cry escapes my lips as I sink down, the pleasure cresting like a tidal wave.
Every nerve in my body ignites, white-hot and all-consuming.
My hips roll once more, and he meets me with a deep, unyielding suck that sends me spiraling over the edge.
My body tenses, then shatters, pleasure rippling through me in relentless waves.
I grasp the headboard, my only anchor as my body writhes against him, lost in sensation.
As the sensation calms, my hips slow, my breath deep and uneven. Silas doesn’t rush me. He presses slow, soft kisses to the insides of my thighs, his scruff dragging deliciously against my overheated skin, sending aftershocks skittering up my spine.
Then, his voice, commanding, cuts through the haze.
“On your stomach.”