He chuckled against me, the vibration making me clench. "Patience, wife."
I whimpered. My hands fisted the sheets. He kept up the maddening circles, dipping just inside only to retreat again, until I was writhing, hips bucking shamelessly.
Then he sucked my clit into his mouth—hard.
I cried out, back bowing off the bed. At the same moment, he pushed two fingers inside me—long, thick, curling perfectly. But itwas the third—the one wearing his wedding band—that made me see stars. The cool metal of the ring dragged along my front wall, rubbing that swollen, sensitive spot over and over while his tongue lashed my clit in merciless circles.
Pleasure coiled tight and fast. My thighs shook around his head. "Silas—oh god—"
He growled against me, sucking harder, fingers pumping deep, the ring catching just right on every stroke. I shattered—clenching around his fingers, thighs clamping his ears, a broken moan tearing from my throat as wave after wave crashed through me.
He didn't stop until I was trembling, oversensitive and gasping.
Only then did he rise up over me, licking his lips like a man who'd just feasted. His cock was hard again, leaking against my thigh. He kissed me deeply—letting me taste myself on his tongue—while he notched himself at my entrance.
"Look at me," he murmured.
Our eyes locked.
"Mrs. Thorne," he said, voice rough with reverence and hunger, "you're mine."
Then he thrust in—slow, deep, stretching me open inch by burning inch until he was seated to the hilt.
We both groaned.
He stayed still for a heartbeat, letting me adjust, then began to move—long, rolling strokes that dragged every ridge along my walls. His mouth found my breast; he sucked one nipple deep, teeth grazing, tongue flicking, while his hips snapped forward harder, faster. The bed creaked beneath us.
"Silas—" I wrapped my legs around his waist, nails raking down his back. "Harder."
He obliged.
He fucked me, deep and relentless—each thrust punching the air from my lungs, his pelvis grinding against my clit on every downstroke. His mouth moved to my other breast, biting lightly, soothing with his tongue, then back to my mouth in a messy, desperate kiss.
"Say it," he growled against my lips. "Say you're mine."
"I'm yours—Silas—yours—"
He changed the angle, hitting that spot inside me over and over. My body tightened again, pleasure winding impossibly higher. His rhythm faltered—hips stuttering, breath harsh against my throat.
"Come with me," he rasped. "Let me feel you—"
One more grinding thrust and I broke—clenching hard around him, pulsing, crying out his name as my orgasm ripped through me. Silas followed a heartbeat later—burying himself deep, cock jerking as he spilled inside me with a low, broken moan. His arms shook as he held himself over me, forehead pressed to mine, both of us panting.
For long minutes we stayed like that—sweaty, tangled, hearts hammering against each other.
Finally, he kissed me—slow, tender this time.
"Mrs. Thorne," he murmured, smiling against my mouth.
I smiled back, boneless and sated. "Mr. Thorne."
He rolled us so I lay draped across his chest, his heartbeat steady under my ear. Rose petals clung to our damp skin.
Neither of us moved to brush them away.
Afterward, we lay tangled together. Silas's arm circled my waist, chin resting on top of my head.
Moonlight poured through the window, bathing everything in silver.
