His jaw clenched.
“Tell me to stop,” he said again, a last repetition of the lifeline he kept trying to throw me…us… “Or you let me take care of you. Those are the options.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” I said. “Silas. Please.”
The words slipped out on its own.
The effect it had on him was immediate and terrifying and good.
“Fuck,” he said again, a prayer or a curse, I wasn’t sure.
He kissed me one more time, quick and hard, like he was stealing something he needed, and then he started to move.
Sliding lower.
Silas kissed his way down my throat like he had all the time in the world.
Slow, steady, maddening.
Every brush of his mouth left a hot trail behind. My fingers dug into the sheets, trying to hold on to something, anything, while my body reacted in ways I’d never felt before.
My breath kept catching, my chest felt too tight and my legs wouldn’t stay still.
He noticed all of it.
“Easy,” he murmured against my skin, voice low. “You’re shaking.”
“No, I’m?—”
A shiver ran straight through me.
“…I’m fine.”
“Liar,” he said, and I felt him smile against my collarbone.
He kissed just below it, then lower, then lower still, each touch slow like he was testing how fast he could unravel me. My body arched toward him without permission.
My mind flashed one frantic thought:
My dad would kill him. He’d kill me.
He’d burn this whole place down.
Right now I didn’t care.
Silas’ hands were warm, his mouth hotter, and my brain couldn’t hold on to fear and this at the same time. Everything narrowed to the places he touched, to the rhythm of his breath against my skin.
He hooked his fingers into the waistband of my borrowed sleep pants… that someone must have put me in.
And my whole body went still.
He paused immediately. “Kellan.”
My heart slammed in my chest.
“It’s okay,” I whispered.
“Look at me.” His voice softened…not gentle, but something close.
