16. Ember #3
“I’ll even let you choose this time,” he whispered at me as his fingers traced my hip. “Which do you prefer,” he said, “laid out on the counter for me to eat or up against the books for me to feel?”
A slow heat formed in my lower body, the same deep need I had experienced at the club with him. I hated myself for it, and I fought against the feeling but soon, I couldn't even do that. When I spoke, my voice was quieter this time—not weaker, just aware and cautious. “Neither.”
He pulled my body tight to his, and for some reason, I didn’t hit him.
I physically couldn’t, not when everything inside me was screaming for him.
I tilted my head up to keep eye contact with him.
I refused to look away because if I did, I lost. I didn’t even know what that meant exactly, but I knew I couldn't let that happen.
“I like you vicious because it makes me feel alive, Ember,” he said slowly. “You make me feel alive.”
“Stop,” I muttered, but my breath didn’t cooperate. It caught, just a little, like my body overlooked the whole fact we hated him.
The silence between us stretched for a moment, and I knew he was doing it deliberately.
He didn’t even try to touch me because he didn’t have to.
That was the fucking problem. The closer he was, the more I felt everything—my pulse climbed, heat crept into my face, even my fingers wanted to curl just to give the tension somewhere to go.
“Make me,” he replied softly, “and pick one.” He leaned in, just enough for me to feel the shift of his chest, the contact that almost happened.
“You aren’t—” I started, but the words fell apart halfway through. I didn’t even know what I was trying to claim.
His hand lifted, and every part of me noticed.
I didn’t flinch away like I hoped I would, and I knew it was because my body craved him.
When his fingers brushed my arm lightly, it was like a spark ran straight through me.
Damn it. His hand lingered before intentionally running up along my arm like he knew exactly what he was doing to me.
By the time his fingers reached my neck, my pulse raced.
As his hand wrapped around my throat, the feeling within me amplified—immediate and undeniable.
I could feel the proof underneath his fingertips, my heart, completely betraying me.
Although on the outside there were no signs, just my eyes locked on his mask.
“Still not scared?” he murmured.
I shook my head because I didn’t trust my voice anymore.
His thumb shifted slightly against my neck, and goosebumps broke out across my skin.
“You’re right,” he said quietly, as his other fingers moved between my legs, “that’s not fear.”
I refused to reply, to make any type of sound that would answer his question.
In response, he turned me around and pushed me up against the wall like he did in his office.
With one hand around my throat and the other between my thighs, his voice rose, “Tell me how I’m going to take you or I will choose Ember. ”
Before I could stop it, a small moan escaped me. The sound immediately made him growl.
Wrapping his palm in my hair, he backed me up to the counter, lifting me on top of it and spreading my legs. Looking down between them, his voice came out clipped. “Then I'll take you both ways and let your boss fucking watch.”
This time, I replied with a sarcastic scoff. “I thought no one else was allowed to see.”
I knew I had angered him because he ripped the underwear off my body in one clean movement. “Shut up and close your eyes.”
I laughed but I listened. Just like in the club, I'm reminded that following his direction felt an awful lot like accepting his darkness. As that thought faded away, I felt him secure his mask to my face. “This is the last chance I'm giving you. I told you before, you belong to me.”
My mouth started to form a nasty insult, but that's when I felt his hot breath between my legs. Before I could even brace for what was coming, he pushed two fingers inside of me and swiped his tongue. The pressure was instant and aggressive, like he’d been waiting for this.
The touch was far from gentle, but it was everything that made Silas who he was—everything that I thought I was starting to need.
I couldn’t help but buck as I pushed myself into his face.
He accepted the movement and groaned louder into my center.
His other hand slid up over my belly and held me still as his tongue moved faster.
I had no time to debate whether or not this was the wrong choice.
Before I knew it, the pressure started to build and my muscles clenched.
Just as the tension threatened to snap, he pulled his mouth away, and I slammed the back of my head down on the desk in defeat.
Another low chuckle from him made me want to open my eyes, but I knew if I did that, this would stop.
I inhaled through my nose as his fingers traced my opening. He wanted something, and I knew I'd have to deal with this torture until he got it.