His rhythm builds until we’re moving in sync, the push and pull a twisted game neither of us can win. It’s commandand surrender, on repeat, each motion feeding the next in an unending cycle.
Silas speaks against my neck, his voice electricity that dances over my skin. “Do you like that?”
“Yes.” I barely get the word out, but I know he hears me.
“Should I slow down?”
“Fuck,” I whimper. “No. Don’t stop.”
“Say it,” he grinds through his teeth, struggling with his restraint. “Tell me what you want.”
I reach my hands up to grab his face. “I want you to shut up and fuck me.”
That… breaks him. His well-crafted restraint vanishes as if it were never a thing.
He rolls his hips harder, deeper, and I sink my teeth into the muscle between his neck and shoulder, needing a violent outlet to match him. Our mixed breaths are ragged, filling the room with a savage sound that I’ll hear for days yet.
Silas comes just as I tip over the cliff of a third orgasm; every noise I try to make gets caught in my throat. But he says my name on the sexiest moan I’ve ever heard, like a prayer whispered to his deity.
He turns his head toward me, eyes soft but guarded. At first, neither of us says anything, just stares openly at each other. It doesn’t feel like silence, though; it feels like… The aftermath.
We lay in bed for a while, eventually curling against each other. He’s got one arm beneath my neck, the other hand drawing lazy circles along my spine. I idly trace the lines of his arm, watching his pulse beneath his skin.
Then he moves… And just like that, the spell is broken.
He dresses without turning another light on, using only the dim lamp. I watch him from the bed, the stark white sheet tucked under my arms.
“I shouldn’t have brought you here,” he says finally, shaking his head as he sits beside me.
I smile softly, but I know it won’t reach my eyes. “Then why did you do it?”
“Because I wanted to.” His voice is almost a whisper. “And I don’t let myself want things very often.”
He leans to press his lips to my shoulder. Gentle. Intentional. It feels like an apology for leaving, but this is his hotel room… I don’t argue that point, though.
“I shouldn’t have come here,” he repeats as he stands and strides across the room like he needs to put distance between us. “But I’m not sorry I did.”
He lingers on the threshold a heartbeat too long, then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him. I stare at the empty space he left, knowing this isn’t something I’ll be able to leave behind either.
Because what happened in this bed doesn’t feel like a mistake.
It felt like a beginning disguised as one.
I guess I can understand why that would make him run.
My phone buzzes on the nightstand, pulling me from my thoughts. I open it before I can stop myself, not even bothering to read the banner.
My HimLock chat has one new message.
Locke:
You weren’t alone tonight.
I stretch out on the bed, lying on my side as I glare at the camera on my phone.
Eris:
How do you know that?
