“It’s too much,” he mutters, voice shredded. “Octavia, you-”
Before the plea finishes, he drags me up and spins me, hands biting into my hips. My stomach hits the counter, palms slamming the cool surface, suddenly face-to-face with my reflection: eyes blown, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and slick with him. Silas towers behind me, chest heaving, his hair wrecked from my fingers. Hunger rifles through his expression like lightning as he jerks my leggings down to mid-thigh in a single ruthless yank. My panties stay on, but they’re soaked dark.
“Look at yourself,” he growls, shoving his cock between my thighs. Dragging his head across my clit through the drenched cotton, he grinds slow, a careless drag that feels like fire. Heat detonates behind my eyes, my knees buckling from nerves. Clamping an arm around my waist, he forces me to watch in the mirror as he ruts through my slick seam, the wet fabric squelching between us.
Pressing his chest to my back, he lets me feel every inch of muscle straining. His free hand molds over my breast, squeezing, thumb rolling my nipple until I whimper. Grinding harder, the head of his cock rubs the exact spot that makes me arch. I can’t look away. My face is flushed, ruined…so fucking needy in the glass. His expression is darker, eyes locked on mine, daring me to blink while he rubs himself to madness.
“Watch how you come apart for me,” he murmurs in my ear, voice raw and thick. “Watch what I do to you.” Shifting his hips,he drags the head lower, skimming the soaked strip that barely covers me. Nudging at my entrance, he doesn’t breach, just glides up again, smearing himself in my wetness like it’s fuel. The contact turns the rest of me molten, my fingers clawing the counter.
“Say it,” he snarls softly at my ear. “Say you need me to ruin you.”
I can’t talk. The friction is a punishing rhythm, the head of his cock dragging up and down, hitting the same spot until I’m shaking. Smirking, he enjoys the tremor that shakes me.
“Octavia?”
The knock slams into the door.
My blood freezes as Silas stiffens, cursing under his breath.
“Are you okay?” Kadin asks from the other side, voice muffled.
“I need a moment!” I call, forcing my tone calm while every nerve in me is screaming. Silas keeps moving against me with slow strokes that apply pressure just where the fabric is soaked.
He doesn’t stop.
He won’t stop, not now.
His breathing brushes my neck, hot and harsh.
“Can I come in?” Kadin presses.
Silas’s mouth grazes my ear. “Tell him no,” he says, voice low, punctuating it by grinding hard, rolling his hips slow and deep, forcing the head of his cock into the wet groove he’s carved in the cotton, my knees buckling as I clutch the counter harder.
“No,” I snap, voice tight. “I just need a minute.”
Kadin hesitates. “Okay. I’ll wait downstairs.”
Hearing his footsteps recede, we freeze until the house settles again.
Silas answers the silence by gripping my throat from behind, thumb pressing lightly against my pulse, dragging his cock along me again, slow and relentless. “Nicely done,” he murmurs. Everygrind is controlled torture. He’s soaking himself in me, smearing heat along the fabric, refusing to push inside. The restraint is almost as intoxicating as the friction. My body vibrates with laughter, tears, desire.
He’s punishing us both.
“You’re soaked,” he whispers. “Feel that?” He rocks against me again, head hitting my clit in a sharp roll that knocks a gasp out of me.
Unable to take it, my legs give out.
Capturing me before I can fall, he flips me down to my knees. The world tilts, but I’m already opening my mouth, ready to take him again, his cock slick with me. Wrapping my lips around his head, I taste both of us at once. Groaning low and broken, his hand tightens in my hair, guiding, not rough, as he says my name like it’s a warning and a prayer.
Swallowing him deep, I slide my tongue along the underside once more, watching him tremble with the effort to stay quiet. Breathing through my nose, I relax my throat, taking him until he’s at the back again. The fan hums overhead, his hand behind my head flexing. He’s seconds away from losing it, I can feel it-
“Octavia,” he gasps, voice rough. “Fuck, I-”
His breath hitches, hitching harder when I take him deep and swallow. He groans into the crown of my head, trying not to thrust, but only failing as his cock swells and pulses in my mouth. I speed up, swallowing him down, wet sounds drowned by the fan, his deeper breaths filling my ears. He’s seconds away from cuming. I know it. The tension is a coiled rope about to snap.
His fingers tighten in my hair, his whole body shuddering. “Octavia,” he gasps, voice stripped down to nerve endings.“I-I love you.”
Feeling the words slam through me, my mouth stops. His cock pulses against my tongue, heat thick and imminent, but theworld whips sideways. Men whispered those words while they hurt me.
