“You keep pushing.” He hums his approval as he unapologetically works me over.
“Don’t stop.” My breath shakes, but my defiance doesn’t. I wiggle away from him… or attempt to.
Silas’s grip tightens possessively, and the mattress shifts again as he hauls me back down the bed, his body hovering, heat pressing in from every direction. There’s nothing gentle in the way he crowds my space now. Nothing careful.
“And you keep running,” he murmurs, mouth brushing my neck. “Like you don’t want to be caught, but I know you do.”
I gasp when his hand moves again, unrelenting as he draws a broken sound out of me. I don’t bother trying to stop it or keep myself quiet. His response is immediate. A low, satisfied sound that vibrates straight through me to my clit.
“Listen to yourself,” he says adoringly. “That’s not resistance.”
My hands clutch at his shoulders, nails biting into skin as I pull him closer. I would argue with him, but he’s not wrong. He’s toying with me, though. And if he’s going to play, I’m going to fight.
The orgasm that follows this chase will be so worth the delay.
“Stop pretending you don’t like it.” His forehead drops to mine, restraint nearing the breaking point. “You’re dripping for me.”
“It’s not for you,” I smart, shoving his hand from between my thighs.
There’s something unmistakably primal in his eyes now. Hunger. Possession. The kind that doesn’t ask.
“You keep pushing,” he repeats, voice dark and melodic. “Now, let me hear you fall.”
Silas shifts his weight forward, and I scoot back, a reflex more than actual resistance, but he’s faster. He catches my wrists and presses them into the mattress above my head, his full weight settling over me, pinning me there in a way that steals my breath and makes my pulse spike. There’s no question in the way he moves, no pause for permission.
Just intention.
“Where are you going?” he asks, grinning down at me.
I open my mouth to answer… and he cuts me off with a forceful thrust of his hips. The sensation hits hard and fast, dragging a broken sound from my chest as my body lights up in response, thriving on the controlled violence.
There’s nothing hesitant in him now. Nothing exploratory or calculating. Every movement is exactly what he’s aiming for, and his only focus is to ruin me with it. He hits this sweet spot inside me, my pussy gripping his cock, trying to keep him where I want him even as I writhe beneath him.
I’m caught between wanting more and wanting to deny him the satisfaction of giving me this mind-numbing orgasm, holding myself right on the edge just to see what he’ll do.
Silas notices.
Of course he does. He possesses a user manual created just to understand me.
“I feel you trying to edge yourself. You can stop fighting me now, Eris.” His voice is low and commanding, controlling my pleasure. “Come for me.”
The words shatter whatever fragile control I was clinging to. My body gives in all at once, tension snapping, violent orgasm tearing loose as I cry out beneath him.
He doesn’t allow us to linger in the moment.
The pressure eases, only to shift again as he pulls out of me and moves down my body with unmistakable intent, refusing to disengage or let the heat dissipate. I try to push at him, overstimulated and trembling, needing a minute to recover my senses. But he wraps his arms around my thighs, anchoring me in place.
The meaning is clear, even without verbal context.
Escape will never be an option.
My protests dissolve into choked sounds, my hands fisting in the silky strands of his dark hair as he takes his time, every stroke of his tongue unrelenting and thorough.
I want him closer.
I want him to stop.
I need more.
