Page 105 of Silk and Sirens

The word shattered something inside me, and I reacted before I overthought it. I kissed him, going on my toes so I could crush my lips to his. It wasn’t soft or gentle. It was desperate.

My good hand fisted in the front of his shirt, and Caden made a low sound against my lips. He pulled me impossibly tighter, one hand at my waist while the other remained at the back of my neck, like he thought I might disappear if he loosened his grip.

My lips felt swollen, and I wanted nothing more than to get lost in his kiss.

I was using him, using his heat, his body to chase away the nightmares of things I’d done. Things that had been done to me.

His lips moved down to my neck, sucking at the skin as his fingers unapologetically moved closer to between my thighs. And I wanted it. Because I chose this. Because I initiated it. Needed it. Needed him to help me forget that I was just some whore. A murderer on a leash. Selene’s pretty puppet.

Pulling back, Caden looked at me with eyes so dark they resembled the deepest parts of a glacier, the ice beneath the water that no one ever gets to see.

Fingers pressed between my legs, stroking over the fabric. “Look how wet you get for me,” he growled, nipping along my jaw.

God, I was wet. Embarrassingly so.

“Who says this is for you?”

A sharp rip, lace fluttering to the floor before a thick finger thrust inside me, making me gasp.

“You really do like to test me, don’t you, Tempest?” he chuckled, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. His other hand pinched my nipple above the fabric of my dress, the pain sharp before he brushed his thumb over to ease the ache.

Clearly I was more messed up than I realised, because I was teasing the one man who had reason to kill me and my thighs were slick with arousal. Even now he pushed, taking control when I usually hated dominance. Yet anticipation tingled down my spine at the way he was using my own body against me, distracting me with his fingers, stretching me on a second all while he tugged and played with my nipples. It was as though everything he did was designed to heighten every sensation until I couldn’t think of anything but him.

“Caden,” I gasped, his thumb circling my clit.

“Only good girls get to come.” He flicked my clit once, not enough to make me orgasm, but enough to make me whimper, almost beg.

I groaned when he pulled out, only to suck his two fingers between his lips before shoving them between mine.

Holy shit.

I immediately wrapped my tongue around them, sucking them into my mouth as his gaze seared across my face, the intensity in them burning. He pulled them out with a pop, and then my dress was gone, torn down the centre like he was some kind of brute. For some reason I didn’t care, not when his hands were on my breasts, thumbs circling the nipples in a way that had my pussy weeping.

“Such a needy little slut.” His touch was gentle compared to his harsh tone.

“Go fuck yourself,” I hissed, reaching for his belt. Each loop making my desire grow, my legs weak with how much I wanted this.

“Why, when I can just fuck you?” Caden lost his patience, tugging his own belt out and unfastening his jeans. He didn’t give me a chance to appreciate him, already lifting me in his arms and slamming my back against the wall hard enough my shelf rattled.

His cock pressed against my wet folds, and I cried out when he thrust inside.

“You’re fucking soaking, Tempest,” he growled against my throat, his hips pulling back only to push in harder. Until I ached with the stretch.

It’s not all going to fit, I thought, slightly panicking.

“Come on. You can take me, can’t you?”

“Caden …” I groaned, trying to angle my hips to take him deeper. He had me pinned completely against the wall, legs locked around his waist as he set a slow but punishing pace. Every time I managed to draw a breath, his next thrust knocked it right back out of my lungs.

“Look at you trying,” he continued, one hand sliding up to wrap firmly around my throat. “So fucking tight. You’re struggling, Tempest.”

I met every thrust with desperate rolls of my hips, greedy for more even as it bordered on too much. I was addicted to it—the stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness. I chased the pain because it made me feel something real. Something raw.

Only Caden could make me feel this alive.

“God,” I groaned, each thrust of his hips hitting something inside me that had pleasure building too fast, too intense.

“God’s not fucking here.” His fingers tightened until the edges of my vision began to blur. “I am.”