“That's the plan.” I stroke him slowly, watching the way his jaw clenches with each movement.
His hands find the hem of my skirt, pushing it up my thighs. When his fingers brush against my panties, we both groan.
“Soaked,” he says roughly. “You're fucking soaked for me.”
I can't deny it. Can't pretend this doesn't affect me when the evidence is literally in his hand.
He hooks his fingers in the lace and tears. The sound of fabric ripping fills the air, and I should probably be annoyed about the destruction of my underwear.
Instead, it makes me even wetter.
“Silas—”
“I'll buy you new ones.” He positions himself at my entrance, the head of his cock pressing against my slick heat. “I'll buy you a dozen pairs so I can rip them all off.”
“Less talking,” I gasp. “More?—”
He drives into me in one hard thrust.
The stretch is exquisite, bordering on too much. I cry out, my back arching as my body struggles to accommodate him. He's bigger than I expected, thicker, and the sensation of being completely filled makes my vision blur.
“Fuck,” he breathes, staying perfectly still. “You feel... Christ, Nova. You feel perfect.”
I can't form words. Can barely breathe. All I can do is cling to his shoulders while my body adjusts to the invasion.
“Move,” I finally manage. “Please, Silas. Move.”
He doesn't need to be asked twice.
He withdraws slowly, almost completely, before slamming back in. The vanity shakes under the impact, more items falling to the floor. I don't care. Can't care about anything except the feel of him moving inside me.
“That's it,” he growls against my throat. “Take it. Take all of me.”
His pace is brutal, desperate. Each thrust drives me higher, closer to an edge I've never reached with anyone else. The angle is perfect, hitting spots that make me see stars.
“God, yes.” My nails dig into his shoulders, probably leaving marks. “Don't stop. Please don't stop.”
“Not planning on it.” His teeth find my neck, biting down just hard enough to sting. “I'm going to fuck you until you can't remember your own name. Until the only thing left is this.”
He emphasizes the word with a particularly deep thrust that makes me cry out. The sound echoes in the small room, probably audible to anyone passing by outside.
“Let them hear,” he says, reading my thoughts. “Let everyone know who's making you feel this good.”
One of his hands slides between us, finding my clit with unerring precision. The added stimulation sends me spiraling toward release, my muscles clench around him like a vice.
“That's it,” he encourages, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. “Come for me, Nova. Let me feel you fall apart.”
The orgasm crashes into me like a cannon ball. I scream his name—actually scream it—while my body convulses around him. White light explodes behind my eyelids, and for a moment, I forget everything. My name, my past, the reasons I'm running.
All that exists is Silas and the pleasure he's wringing from my body.
He doesn't stop. If anything, my climax spurs him on, his thrusts becoming even more intense. The overstimulationborders on painful, but I don't want him to stop. Don't ever want this feeling to end.
“Again,” he demands, his voice rough with exertion. “Give me another one.”
“I can't?—”
“You can.” His thumb works my clit with ruthless motions. “Come on, beautiful. I know you've got another one in you.”
