Page 62 of The Villains We Make

Someone tries the door, which is locked, then knocks. Silas tells them to go away.

When I squeeze his dick, he moans, his cheek warm against my cheek, the scruff of his jaw rough on my skin. Our eyes remain locked in the mirror.

“But I admit, I like you like this. Bent over so I can spank your ass. Tell me something. Are you as wet as I am hard?” he asks and slides a hand between my legs.

“Screw you!” I cry out when he grins.

“Hey. Some of us have to use the bathroom!” a woman calls out.

“Fuck off,” Silas says, then meets my eyes, chuckling. “We’ll fuck angry. It’ll be good for us.” He reaches over me to pump soap from the dispenser into his hand, repeats a couple of times. “Ophelia, Ophelia, Ophelia.” He straightens. “Stay,” he tells me as he undoes his jeans and pushes them and his briefs down and I watch because as much as I hate the fact, I am wet. I hate that he’s right and he knows it, but it’s true. Having him this close, this dominant and this protective, it brings out a side of me only he can.

He grips his cock and rubs the liquid soap along his hard length. He then grabs my hips and tilts them up, using his thumbs to spread my cheeks apart.

“What are you doing?” I ask, panicked, realizing why he needed the soap.

He grins, drags his gaze from my ass to my face and brings his cock to my asshole.

“I’m changing tactics.” He pushes against the tight opening.

“What does that—” I gasp when he penetrates, my body not ready, trying to manage this intrusion, this thickest part of him. Even with the slippery soap to lubricate, my body resists. I grip the edges of the counter.

He glances at me. “Try to relax, sweetheart, or this is going to be rough for you.” He pushes in.

My breath hisses and I squeeze my eyes shut. “It hurts.”

“Punishments don’t work if they feel good.”

“Please.”

“Relax. Look at me.”

He moves slowly inside me and when I open my eyes, I see how his have gone a deep emerald.

“Did you hear me earlier tonight?”

“I don’t want?—”

He thrusts and I grunt.

“Did. You. Hear. Me?”

“Yes!”

“What did I say?”

I grit my teeth, refusing to give this to him.

“I’m about halfway in, sweetheart. Make this easy on yourself.” He gives a small thrust and I cry out.

“You told me you love me.”

“Right. What else?”

The knocking begins again.

“Fuck off!” he yells at the door then wraps a hand around my pelvis, fingers coming to my clit. I close my eyes wanting to resist but unable to. He leans over me, so his face is touching mine again. “What else, O?”

“That you love me no matter what.”

---