“I also recall telling you I’d fuck you in every hole, and you’d take it like my good little whore.” His hand tightened around my throat, lowering his mouth over mine. “I want this one next. Need to see those pretty lips stretched around my cock.”
Silas kissed me hard. A kiss that curled my toes and made my pussy cry with anticipation. His tongue ravaged the inside of my mouth, tasting every inch and enticing my own to play.
I pulled back just enough to speak while still pressed against him. “Take it off.”
Without asking for any further explanation, he reached down, bunching up the fabric of my shirt and tugging it over my head, bra included.
“You’re so beautiful, Helena.”
“What do I need to do for you to call me Leni?” I asked, dropping to my knees.
“I can think of a few different ways.” He lifted my chin and stroked my cheek. “But my cock down your throat seems like a good place to start.”
“How convenient for you.”
He grinned, fisting the back of my hair with one hand while the other was around mine, guiding his head to my parted lips. Losing myself in my favorite pair of eyes, I opened up, taking him into my mouth slowly, inch by inch.
“Leni…” he breathed as I hollowed out my cheeks until he knocked the back of my throat. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He pushed farther, his face becoming distorted as tears filled my eyes.
My hands were splayed across his ass cheeks, but the harder he pumped into me, the tighter his grip on my hair became. I squeezed, nails digging into his flesh.
“You’re taking me so good, love. I want to bruise your throat and mark that sweet mouth with my cock.”
The noises he made above me caused a rush of wetness between my legs, and I moaned over his dick, rocking my hips, seeking relief.
“Touch yourself,” he said, tipping my head back.
I smiled, giving him one last stroke before using both hands to push my thong and leggings down past my ass. Silas didn’t slow his thrusts, both hands on each side of my face, and head tipped back, no longer in control. He swelled against my throat, and I knew he was close.
Spreading my thighs, my fingers dipped into my pussy, sliding easily against the slickness. More moans broke from deep inside my chest as I stroked, slowly at first, then matching his rhythm.
The muscles in my face burned and ached, but I was nearly buzzing, craving to feel him break inside my mouth.
Deep down, I knew more than anything that I was drowning out the hurt lurking in the fringes of my mind. Just acknowledging that very fact tore a hole in my resolve, where tendrils of grief and heartache seeped through, threatening to unravel me.
I swallowed them down and did my best to push the sorrow into the dark, even though I knew it was bound to come rushing back.
“Leni…” Silas’s strangled voice pulled me back into the moment. The veins in his neck protruded, every muscle strained as he pumped into my mouth. Hot spurts of cum spilled over my tongue and then down my throat. “Fuck… love,” he muttered, clenching his teeth, movements jerky as he emptied every drop.
The lustful haze on his face and the vulnerability in his features filled me with a sense of pride, spurring me on as I continued to suck him down. Silas tried to pry me from his cock, finally succeeding before hauling me to my feet and bending me over the armrest of the couch. He dropped to his knees in the next second, mouth on my pussy. As his tongue slid from end to end, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go through with it.
There was no way I could bring myself to kill this man.
Twenty-One
SILAS
My eyes flew open, my heart racing as I clenched the sheets between my fingers. That familiar pang of anxiety and insecurity was heavy in my chest. It was always the same. Whilst the dream only happened once or twice a year, sometimes every few years, the scene never wavered. Old brick building, an overwhelming surge of protectiveness, the scream, and the gunshot, then nothing.
Nothing before and nothing after. Reaching beyond that wall of consciousness lay my past and the faces of my family, but it was an impenetrable fortress. I still held out hope for the day when even a word, a voice, the lyrics to a fucking song, would help unravel the life locked up inside my head. Soon, I’d be alive longer as this man with no story than I had been before the day that young boy had died.
I rolled to lie on my back. The room was nearly pitch-black, but a low hallway light stretched inside through the cracked door.
Closing my eyes, I threw my arms above my head and abruptly froze midway at the sound of running water. I held my breath when what sounded like soft whimpers reached my ears. That’s when I realized Helena was not asleep beside me, and something told me she hadn’t been for a while.
I tossed the covers and pulled on sweatpants, walking toward the dark bathroom and flipping the switch as the noises were unmistakable. She was sitting on the floor of the shower, crying, saying something I hadn’t been able to make out until now.
“Turn it off. Turn off… Goddamnit. Please.” Her voice was thick with emotion and hoarse, evident she’d been there quite some time. “Please, please…please.” Her agonizing pleas cut straight through me, and I threw open the shower door, reaching for her.
