Page 27 of The Villains We Make

“First time?” he asks.

I nod fast, thinking he’ll back off, but he doesn’t.

“Good.” He grins instead and pushes past my resistance, moaning as he eases into me, stretching me.

I grip the headboard and squeeze my eyes shut, whimpering. It burns, and I’m too sensitive, and he’s too big.

“Relax. O. Easy. You’re going to take it, and it’s going to feel so fucking good you won’t know your own name when I’m finished with you.”

I try to breathe, to manage all the sensations colliding together, but when he slides the fingers of one hand to my clit and begins to manipulate the already sensitive nub, I make a sound I don’t think I’ve ever made before, a moan from deep inside my chest.

“Fuck, O, you feel so fucking tight. So fucking good.”

“I’m going to come again.”

“Tell me something first,” he says, drawing out of me and flipping me onto my back. He pushes my knees up and eases every inch of himself back into my ass with a low, deep moan.

My eyes roll to the back of my head, and I bite my lower lip so hard I taste blood.

“Tell me, is this real enough for you?” He flicks my nipple.

I don’t think I can form words, though. “I want…”

He pumps in and out and in and out, weaving his fingers with mine and drawing my arms over my head. He kisses me as he moves inside me, fucking me like I’ve never been fucked before, every nerve ending on fire. Making me feel like I’ve never felt before.

“Is it real or do you need more to believe it?”

“More,” I say, opening my eyes to look into his, to see his eyes darken with lust as he thrusts in hard, sweat dripping from his forehead onto my face.

I am pure sensation, electricity, a live wire.

“Tell me it’s real, and I’ll make you come. Tell me it’s real, O,” he says.

“It’s real. It’s real.”

“Swear it.”

“I swear it. It’s real. Please. God. Please. I need to come… Oh…”

Silas’s teeth close over the curve of my throat, and he fucks me deeper than I have ever thought possible. When I hear his moan of pleasure, hear him call out my name, I squeeze my fingers around his, nails digging into flesh, and we come together and I feel every throbbing second of his release knowing that right now, in this moment, he is as far gone as me. As lost as me. And as I take his come inside me, I know it is real. It is more real than anything else in this world.

10

SILAS

Ipull out, and Ophelia looks up at me with sleepy eyes.

“Hey.” I kiss her cheek. A sheen of sweat dampens her forehead.

“Hm.” She closes her eyes.

“You okay?”

She nods, never opening her eyes.

I smile, slip out of the bed, and throw the sheet over her. In the bathroom, I clean myself up and wet a washcloth with warm water and soap. Her glasses are on the counter, so I pick those up and carry both the washcloth and the glasses to the bedroom. She’s fast asleep. I set her glasses on the nightstand and roll her onto her side. She is jelly, her body pliable and giving, not an ounce of resistance left in her.

I clean her, liking the idea of my come inside her. I then tuck her under the blankets and drop the washcloth in the hamper. From the top of the desk, I pick up the ring. It’s delicate but strong. I bring it back to the bed and sit on the edge, looking at Ophelia’s sleeping face. How relaxed she looks. How peaceful.

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