22. Lauren
Lauren
S ilas connects our mouths, his hands sliding possessively around my waist, gripping me like he’s afraid I’ll slip away, like keeping me anchored to this stool could somehow solve all his problems.
Is this really happening? The thrill coursing through me is impossible to ignore, but beneath it, there's a flicker of fear—a fear I can’t quite silence. Just hours ago, being with him was an overwhelming mix of sensations. It wasn’t just physical; it was strangely romantic, intimate in a way I hadn’t expected. Silas was firm, commanding, but gentle. After that intense session, he led me to his tub and bathed me while we watched the sunset over Manhattan, his hands soothing, his presence protective. It was a side of him I’d never seen before, or maybe one he’d never allowed me to see.
Now, he lifts me effortlessly onto the kitchen island, his body pressing hard against mine, completely taking over as if our connection is the only thing holding him together. He leans in, burying his face in my neck, inhaling deeply before his tongue flicks along my skin, tracing a slow, teasing path from my collarbone to my jaw. It’s animalistic and raw, like he’s driven by something primal, something far beyond words.
The room spins around us, but all I can focus on is him—how his weight feels against me, how his lips and hands claim me, how for the first time, I’m seeing a side of Silas that’s as vulnerable as it is powerful.
“Fuck,” he groans with genuine anger. “What are you doing to me, Lauren?”
Abruptly, he tosses me over his shoulder and carries me to his bedroom.
“What are you doing?! We just ate!” I shout, clinging on as best I can to avoid falling, but I know I won't; Silas's hands are firmly holding me by my butt.
“I need to have you, now.”
As soon as he throws me onto his bed, he removes his clothes, revealing his toned chest, masculine legs, golden skin. I swallow nervously at the sight of such an Adonis. Silas tears away the little clothing I have left, flips my body, and positions me on all fours. He runs his index finger from my folds to the forbidden parts of my body, and my body tenses at the intrusion, but Silas keeps me still.
“Do you trust me, Bunny?” His voice is heavy, distant, wild .
“Y- yes?”
“Yes or no,” he says, stimulating me THERE.
What was the question? Unable to respond, he grips my ass with both of his large hands and licks me. “Oh God!” I cry out, closing my eyes as the wave of pleasure overwhelms me.
“Yes or no?” he asks again.
“Y- yes,” I manage to reply.
“Then let me give you pleasure. Let me show you how much I want to see you cum over and over again until your legs can’t hold you up.”
“O- okay.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says, his tone sinister. His voice sounds possessed, determined. His tongue begins to caress my ass, while his index finger slides into my core. In and out, in and out, without mercy.
“Silas” I moan, clutching the sheets until my knuckles turn white. Suddenly, I feel filled with him, his body, his voice, his masculine scent.
“Tell me ...” he says as he keeps stimulating me, “Do you want me to fuck you here?”
I do. I want it.
I WANT IT.
“I just want you, please.”
“You’re going to make me cum just with your words, Lauren.”
He removes his finger and positions himself at the entrance of my pussy, ready to thrust inside. “Do you want my cock? Tell me.”
“I want to feel you,” I whimper.
“I’m all yours, baby,” he declares, and suddenly he pushes inside me. His thrusts are fierce. His groan is inhuman. His fingers dig into my hips. He fucks me with violence, with passion, with hate, with love. He fucks me the way I always imagined Silas Walker would.
“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. “So fucking wet for me. Aren't you, baby?” Silas is lost in how passionate, sensual, and lustful this is.
The base of my stomach tightens, and the bubbling need starts to boil inside me. “Silas!” I warn.
“I know ... I know! Fuck Lauren, cum on my cock. ”
The moment my orgasm floats and explodes throughout my system, Silas comes, spilling his seed deep inside me.
For a few seconds, we lie there, still convulsing, breathless, caught in the aftershocks of everything we just shared. New feelings surge within me, emotions I’ve never known before, and I have to bite my lips to keep from saying something I’m not ready to admit. Silas pulls away gently, then drags me onto the bed with him, enveloping me in his strong arms and legs, his body a warm, heavy shield around me.
“Bunny?” he murmurs, his voice thick with sleep, somewhere between consciousness and dreams.
“Yes?” I whisper back.
“You’re in trouble.” His voice is barely audible, yet it carries weight—a threat, firm but somehow tender.
And still, I find myself smiling. Why? Maybe because his words don’t feel like danger. They feel like the beginning of something much deeper.
Something I’m not afraid of anymore.
This time, I’m the first to wake up. Silas lies beside me, one hand resting on my stomach, the other tucked under his pillow. His body is completely naked, sculpted, and broad, the kind of physique I remember him having back in school. He always trained like an athlete, and clearly, that hasn’t changed. My mouth waters just looking at him. How do I still want him so much after everything we did last night? The places he touched, the way he kissed, the way he claimed me—God, I’ve never experienced anything like it. He was fierce, but so tender, protective. I still feel the ghost of his hands on me.
“You always used to steal glances at me,” he says, eyes closed but smirking. “But damn, now you're not even trying to hide it. ”
I laugh softly. “How did you know I was looking at you? Your eyes were shut.”
He chuckles into his pillow, the sound deep and rich, then opens his eyes to look at me directly. “I always knew when you were watching me in school, Bunny. That’s not something that ever changed.”
He wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me closer until my back is pressed against his chest. “I thought I was being subtle,” I say softly, smiling at how easy this conversation feels—how we can speak so openly now about what used to be such a secret, such a weight.
“No, you were terrible at it,” he teases, resting his chin on my shoulder. “But it didn’t matter. I loved it. Every time I felt your eyes on me when you thought I wasn’t paying attention? That was enough. What were you thinking about when you watched me?”
I stare out at the early morning skyline, taking a breath. “I always wondered why you hated me so much. I tried to figure you out, learn what you liked, hoping maybe I could make sense of it.”
Silas tightens his hold on me, his voice low, almost a whisper. “There was nothing wrong with you, Lauren. Nothing. You were so perfect in your own way, so different. I just didn’t know how to handle the way you made me feel.”
“And now?” I ask, my voice quiet.
“Now?” He grins, his hand slipping lower as he pulls me even closer, his body heat radiating through me. “Now I still can’t control myself. But this time, I get to explore every inch of you the way I’ve always wanted.”
“What are you doing?” Silas asks, catching me mid-pack as I gather my things.
“Just getting my stuff together. It’s time for me to head home.” I’m not exactly eager to leave, but after everything that’s happened in the last twenty-four hours— and not just the sex —I feel like we both need some space to process.
Silas crosses his arms, standing there in just a T-shirt and black briefs, his eyes narrowing as if he’s already figured me out. “Is this one of those moments where Lauren Green thinks she's doing someone a favor?”
He’s too perceptive for his own good. “No, it's not that,” I lie, trying to sound convincing. “I just need to go home, you know, I need my things and?—”
“Bring them here,” he interrupts, snatching my bag from my grip and tossing it onto the couch, effectively blocking my exit.
“Bring them?” I repeat, incredulous. “Silas, I’d have to travel with a backpack every time. That sounds uncomfortable.”
He rolls his eyes like I’m being difficult. “Bring them here. Permanently.”
“That’s even worse!” I throw my hands up, exasperated. Maybe his heart really isn’t getting enough blood to his brain.
“Lauren.” His voice softens, but his grip on my shoulders tightens slightly, pulling me closer, demanding my full attention. “I'm asking you to move in with me.”
Move in with me. The words echo in my head like they don’t belong to this moment.
“Silas!” I exclaim, pushing him back, which only makes him laugh. “Are you crazy?”
“Yes,” he says, still smiling. “Ever since I met you, I haven’t wanted you to leave. I don’t want to lose sight of you, because the moment you pull away, you’ll run— far from me. And I can’t let that happen. I won’t let that happen.”
I take a deep breath, trying to stay level-headed. “No.”
“Okay, then let me buy whatever you need to be comfortable here, with me.”
“That’s basically the same thing!” I laugh, completely thrown by how casually he’s turning my world upside down.
His smile softens, and in an instant, the teasing fades. He steps closer, pulling me into his arms, trapping me in that way only Silas can. “I don’t want you to go. Stay with me.” His voice is low, and before I can say anything, he kisses me—deeply, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, like there’s no tomorrow.
And I melt, caught in his pull, unable to deny what he’s asking for, even as I know this is just the beginning of something I may never be able to control.