I sank back down, and he was still. Was he... only fucking me when I breathed?
I held my breath, and he held me against the wall unmoving. I could feel his chest rise and fall against mine, my heart beating faster, and my head slowly beginning to throb. Finally, I pushed myself up to breathe, and he shoved his cock so deep inside it hit the back.
“Silas!” I yelled; it almost came out as a sob.
“Say it again,” he said breathlessly, “say my name.”
“No!” I shouted at him, but he thrust again. As he pounded, my head sloped to the side. I didn’t have the energy to hold it up. He leaned down, nipping gently at my earlobe before sucking gently on my neck.
“Please,” he whispered, almost tenderly, “say it again.”He begged, his hand still on my throat, but gently squeezing the sides on and off. He didn’t want me to go just yet.
“Silas,” his name came out as a pitiful sob, and he pulled both my legs around his waist.
We stopped moving, a stalemate met by only each other’s breath, by our pulses as we were caught in each other’s grasp. Each exhale, the ghost of words we wished to say, but knew might haunt us forever.
“Don’t make me do something I’ll regret,” he whispered breathlessly.
A drunken smile played on my lips, the image of him blurring in and out. “Do you regret me, Silas Forbes?”
“Never.” He spoke low, lifting me away from the wall.
The world was spinning until I landed in the soft expanse of the bed. He flipped me on my stomach, and the world just kept spinning. I barely had time to gather myself.
He climbed over me, kissing and leaving soft bites at the back of my neck as he reached around to unbutton my blouse.
“Wait,” I mumbled, glancing back at him.
He kissed me over my shoulder. He held his palm against my front, my back flush against his chest as he prodded between my legs again, but didn’t go in.
Against my better judgment, I kissed him back. The room stopped spinning, and I was in a delightful high, willing to indulge.
“Alina.” He swallowed, like it physically pained him to wait, poised.
I pulled away, his hands smoothing over the fabric, as if it was making him impatient with the lack of skin contact, shaking feverishly.
“You are the same creature you’ve always been.” I swallowed. “Will I ever be rid of you?”
“In death, plausibly.” His lips lingered by my ear. “Mine or yours.”
I peered at him over my shoulder; his eyes were black, only the silver halos present, watching me with that starved intensity. I nodded, gripping the sheets to brace myself.
He pushed in, jolting me forward in tandem with his grip on my hip. The low groan from him, coupled with the dangerous frequency of clicking, reminded me how exciting it was, howdangerousit was.
He began to roll his hips, working with my movements until my body relaxed entirely.
His pace picked up until he bottomed out every time, pushing my body forward. It was beginning to get sore.
“Slow down,” I whined. “Please.”
“Shh,” he hushed me, gathering me in his arms to turn me over.
I was on my back, staring up at him, though this view was more terrifying. He loomed over me, an ever-present threat. I would have been embarrassed to be caught like this, but his eyes were focused on something else.
He moved his hips slower, pushing in and out and watching himself do so.
I covered my mouth when a moan escaped; I wanted to melt into the sheets. I didn’t know what was more mortifying; him seeing me or him knowing I might be enjoying it.
“Look at you,” he practically purred. “Does it feel good to finally give in?”
