The kiss is nothing like I’ve shared with the others. It’s urgent and fractured. Emotion bleeds through every movement, and every point of contact. His teeth sink into my lower lip as his fingers dig into my arm. His hands tremble where they grip me, and I kiss him back, even as his mouth bruises mine.
When he breaks away, still breathing hard, I hold onto him like that’s the only thing either of us needs.
“Don’t disappear on me,” I murmur.
He grips me tighter.
The storm rages outside, thunder booming again and again, but inside the armory, everything narrows to the two of us.
Somewhere between one jagged breath and the next, my sweater is gone. Silas centers me on the bench, then drops to his knees in front of me. His mouth is savage at my breast, his teeth scraping over my skin. He sucks my nipples hard and squeezes handfuls of flesh in his palms, making me pantand cry out with need.
Just as suddenly, he stops moving. He breathes me in, then licks softly, soothing, sliding his hands around my body to unclasp my bra, his movements full of care.
He has me off kilter, but I’m exactly where I want to be.
I want him to use my body. I want him to take whatever he needs.
“Kira—”
I frame his head in my hands, sliding my fingers through his hair. “Don’t think, Silas. Just be.”
His breath is hot at my breast. I bring my hands back to the bench and curl my fingers around the edge to anchor myself. Whatever happens next will be his move.
If he leaves, I won’t try to stop him.
Looking me over, he makes a sound that’s low and broken. His hands come to my thighs and tighten, fingers digging into flesh.
He kisses me again, hungry. I weave my hands into his unzipped hoodie and tug it from his shoulders. I pull his dark, faded t-shirt over his head, our mouths only breaking long enough for it to clear.
I’ve glimpsed hints of tattoos edging up from beneath Silas’s collars, and I’ve always been curious. It turns out his shoulders and chest are covered in ink. A black and gray eagle dominates part of his chest, its wings half-open and its expression as watchful as its owner’s.
Another image at the center of his chest is so faded I barely make out the shape of a flaming heart piercedwith arrows. A pale, uneven scar cuts along his ribs. It's old and half-hidden beneath muscle.
When our bodies meet, skin on skin, the last shards of his control fall away. His hands are everywhere. His mouth is everywhere.
He pushes a hand inside my pants, where he finds me wet and aching for him. With the heel of his palm pressing against me, he slides a finger inside, and both of us groan.
My hips lift to meet him when he pulls back and presses in again. He keeps at it as he pulls my pants and underwear down and out of the way.
For a moment, his eyes shift back to the Viper I know, taking in every inch of my body with skilled efficiency, filing away the data. Then the surveillance habit falls away, and his gaze is pure heat, burning hotter than a wildfire.
As he starts to work at his pants, he turns me, bending me over the bench, sliding his free hand down my back, over my hips, grabbing hold of me and keeping me steady.
From behind, he presses the blunt head of his cock inside me, his breath heaving. His movements are ragged, almost frantic. So uncontrolled for a man who’s been the very definition of the word ever since I met him, but after a few strokes, he starts to move in a rhythm.
With arms wrapped around me, one hand full of my dangling breasts, he bends over me, his full beard soft on the bare skin of my back as he pumps into me faster and faster. He strums at my clit with his thumb, teasing with the perfect amount of pressure, making it hard to catch mybreath as sensations spiral up from deep inside and gnaw at me, insistent.
Of course, this man who notices everything senses when I’m getting close, and he presses my clit while he sets his teeth into my shoulder, then swipes his tongue over the spot he made raw.
Everything spills out of me then. Desire, frustration, fear, need. It all swirls together along with pleasure. So much pleasure.
It consumes me. It pulls me under, but Silas holds me tight.
I’m locked in his solid arms as my body lets go, wave after wave pulsing through me.
He keeps moving inside me, slow and steady, and when I’m past my peak, he ruts into me again. Hard, feverish, desperate. His hand claws at my hip as he grunts, seizes, then pulls out of me all at once.
I gasp at the sudden emptiness, then a hot thread of cum lands on my back. He groans as he paints my body with his release. I twist to look at him and find his face tortured and intense. He’s gone inward in a way I’ve never witnessed. Finally, he lets out a long breath of relief before coming back to himself.
