“I’m so sorry,” she stammered, trying to push him away.
He caught her hands and kissed her palms, returning them to the bed.
“Don’t be. Don’t ever be sorry. In fact, I want to hear it again.”
Silas pressed one thick finger into her swollen heat, sinking himself slowly into the tight sheath of her channel as her mouth fell open in surprise at the sensation of being filled.
“I want my name on your lips as you soak the sheets for me,” he rasped, nipping at the skin of her neck as she rolled up into his touch, begging for more, helpless to resist the siren call of desire in her veins.
He added another finger, stretching her decadently as he alternated between dragging his fingers in and out and swirling up to rub and flick the sensitive peak of her pleasure.
It was all too much, her flesh far too sensitive and responsive to his touch, that within minutes she was rocking against him, her hips churning helplessly, urging him deeper, faster. Demanding more, more, more.
Silas raised himself up on an elbow, staring down her body to the place where she splayed open for him, his hand buried between her thighs.
“Say my name, I want to hear it on your lips,” he commanded, his expression fierce and possessive.
Honora had already been chanting it in her mind, his name blazing across every one of her nerve endings as he stroked her determinedly towards release. Now, the words flew from her mouth, his name both a plea and demand, as she rushed headlong towards a devastating release.
“Silas. Silas…Silas.”
Soft, wet sucking noises accompanied her strangled cry, and then she was there again, tethering at the brink of bliss, falling over the edge and drowning as it rushed over her, consuming her with sharp, jagged spasms of pleasure.
This time the surge of liquid between her thighs was almost a flood, running down over her bottom and dampening the sheets beneath her, just as he had said.
“Oh-” she choked out, embarrassed and still reeling from the force of her crisis.
But Silas pressed her back, running his hands soothingly over her thighs, her belly.
“Shh, Honora. My God, look at you.” His hands hovered over her, his eyes raking from her head to her toes with something akin to worship shimmering in their depths.
“That was the most arousing thing I have ever witnessed. Feeling you explode on my fingers…”
Silas groaned feverishly, dipping his head to press his lips to her temple, his hand skimming over her skin, lifting her shift so that he could cup and squeeze her breasts as aftershocks of delight skittered across her skin.
It was as if he couldn’t stop touching her, needed to feel her everywhere.
It made her ache again, even though he had only just soothed it.
“Kiss me,” she pleaded, closing her eyes and turning her face up to his.
There was a moment of hesitation, then his lips were on hers.
Oh, it was so much more than a kiss this time, this meeting of lips, tongues tasting first soft, then demanding. Mouths crashed together to nip and suck until Silas moaned, rolling himself between her thighs, never once breaking the kiss.
Fitting himself against her as she wrapped her legs around his hips and gave herself up to the glorious weight of him pressing her into the bed.
His manhood was a hard ridge between her legs, pressing into her right there, and with a little whimper, she ground against it instinctively.
His hand reached down to grip her hip, tightening as she circled her hips again.
“Don’t-” Silas choked out, breathing harshly against her throat, his body suddenly tense and still in her arms.
Honora belatedly realised that he might be as affected by the carnality of the moment as she.
“You need release,” she whispered. “Can I… help you?”
Not waiting for an answer, Honora reached between her thighs, cupping the steel length of his erection, feeling it swell even bigger under her hand.
