Page 40 of Blurred Lines

His words sting. Is that what he thinks? That this is some frivolous adventure? That I don't understand the weight of what's been handed to me?

"Silas," I force out, my voice trembling slightly. "You have no idea what my life is like. Maybe it looks glamorous on Instagram, but it's … lonely. I thought coming here might be different. But you make it damn clear that I'm not wanted, not by you at least."

He opens his mouth to protest, but I raise a hand to stop him. "Let me finish. This isn't easy for me either. I miss my dad, more than I let on. And the vineyard … it could be something special. But I need time, and I need you all to stop treating me like the enemy."

The words hang between us, heavy and unresolved. Silas stares out at the sprawling fields, a muscle twitching in his jaw. When he finally speaks, his voice is hoarse. "Emily, I'm sorry. I've been an ass, plain and simple. We owe you better."

I search his eyes for insincerity but find only a weariness that mirrors my own.

This is too much, and too tiring. I can't deal with him any longer.

The apology sits unfinished in the air as a wave of something raw and defiant surges through me. Without another word, I push past Silas, a surge of adrenaline making my steps feel unnaturally light. Storms might brew between us, but right now, I just need space.

The mansion's heavy oak door yields with a satisfying groan, echoing through the dimly lit foyer. I head straight for the grand staircase, my heels clattering on the marble like angry little taps. But Silas is faster, his longer strides closing the distance. His hand on my wrist stops me mid-step.

"Emily, wait?—"

I twist, attempting to break free, but his grip tightens. "Let go, Silas." My voice is a barely controlled hiss.

Instead, his free hand cups my cheek, the calloused warmth a stark contrast to his rough grip. His eyes, usually so guarded, blaze with a fierce intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

"I can't," he murmurs, voice husky. "Not anymore."

Before I can protest or form a single coherent thought, his lips meet mine. It's not a gentle kiss, not sweet or tentative. It's a clash of wills, frustration turned to fire, a desperate claim laid upon me. All my carefully constructed walls crumble, and I meet him with a desperation of my own.

Our bodies press together, his hands sliding from my face, down my neck, tracing the line of my collarbone. I moan softly, a sound caught and swallowed by his mouth. The scent of him, rich earth and summer grass, fills my senses, a potent mix against the cool formality of the mansion.

Somewhere in the back of my mind, the voice of reason flickers, urging caution, reminding me of the chaos simmering just beneath the surface. But it's muffled, drowned out by the pounding of my heart and the sheer, reckless hunger that Silas ignites within me.

His hands explore, tracing shapes on my skin, a wildfire of sensation sparking in their wake. I find myself tugging at his shirt, his belt, needing more. Needing the grounding touch of bare skin against mine, a confirmation that this isn't some feverish dream.

He breaks the kiss with a groan, his forehead resting against mine, his breath hot against my cheek. "Emily," he whispers, his voice laced with a dangerous plea. "I don't know what I'm doing anymore, but I need … "

I see it in his eyes. Me. He needs me.

15

SILAS

With a low purr, Emily pushes me against the cool stone wall of the stairwell with her body pressed against mine. The dimly lit corridor, empty save for the flickering of a single sconce, can hold another secret tonight.

My mind is warring. I should stop, tell her why I'm here, talk about my demons … but this girl and that fire in her body, the way she's kissing me, bruising her mouth with my own … I cannot, for the life of me, stop.

She hikes up her dress, revealing a glimpse of lace-trimmed panties, as she wraps her legs around my waist. My hand slips under the fabric, grabbing hold of her generous bottom, groaning as I feel the heat of her seep into my palm.

We kiss with a hunger bordering on desperation, tongues entwining, moans spreading between mouths. "Silas," she cries out, as I curl my fingers around her throat, kissing her with savage abandon.

"I want you," I tell her. "You have no idea how badly I want you." I pin her against the wall, taking control. I nip at her jaw before trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

Our bodies press together with a heat that can ignite this very mansion. Emily's hands are on fire, desperate to explore every inch of my skin. I wrap my arms around her waist, lifting her up against the wall, kissing her everywhere.

Breathless and aching, we break apart for only a moment before Emily takes control, devouring my neck with hungry kisses, her teeth grazing my collarbone. Shivers run down my spine, my heart pounds, I don't know what is happening to me.

I growl low in my throat, unable to contain my desire any longer. I need her bare, aching for me. I grab her cheeks and squeeze. "Do you want me?"

"Yes," she pants. "Take me right here, and now."

Her hands work my pants open, freeing me from my constraints, until she moans with delight as her delicate fingers encounter my rigid cock.

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