Page 81 of Vow of Silence

“You’ll hear it if it rings,” I appease.

I understand the need for his family to have a constant line of communication with him. I get there are things I’m not privy to and probably never will be. The feeling isn’t anything new.

His heat envelops me, Benito’s steps soundless as he crosses the room.

I melt against the wall of his body, my back to his front as he wraps me in his hold, burying his face in the crook of my neck. The world halves, the anxieties in my mind quieter. Physical touch does so much more for the soul than words ever could. I tilt my head, allowing my love better access. Gentle kisses from a killer’s lips. Reverence from a tarnished saint. He trails his lips from my shoulder to behind my ear, pulling my hair out of the way as he does.

We don’t need words for this. We never did.

My hand slides to cover his, splayed against my stomach. I measure our difference, shifting my fingertips to meet his, then back to line up our wrists. He makes me feel small in comparison—delicate. I love the juxtaposition, the understanding that he could use brute force to overpower me at any moment but that it would be done with care and respect.

That I’m capable of bringing the beast to his knees.

Benito takes a step forward, his firm thigh forcing me to move with him until I’m pinned against the tall drawers. Instinctually, I set a hand to the top, bracing myself as he rocks his hips into the small of my back.

There’s no denying he wants this as badly as I do.

My mouth waters.

A sigh, the rush of his breath tickling the shell of my ear. My skin erupts with goosebumps, fine hairs raising at the simple thrill.

I dare to reach behind me, wrapping my hand around his neck to pull him closer. To eradicate the years of distance between us. My back arches, breasts crushed to the drawers as his hand slides from my stomach to my throat via my waist and ribs. Benito’s palm flexes when he finds the delicate column of flesh, thumb anchoring beneath the point of my jaw.

I want to stay here forever—sated yet aroused by the desire to submit to his will. To make myself entirely his.

Pushing against his solid body, I shift him back far enough that I can turn to face him. Benito’s hand drifts from my neck as I do, both palms settling possessively on my hips. The thin drape of my satin pajamas does nothing to diffuse the heat of his touch.

I wet my lips, lifting both hands to skim the swell of his shoulders, resting my palms on either side of his thick, tattooed neck. His eyelids drop, a sigh escaping his lush lips. I let a thumb drift to the corner of his mouth, pressing and tugging at the flesh.

Gaze locked to mine, he turns his head and traps the tip of my digit between his teeth.

My stomach flutters at the wicked intent in his eye as he gently bites down.

I’ve got numerous other places he could bite, and each sparks to life at the idea.

I clench my thighs together, drawing his focus to the movement. Benito releases my thumb, pressing a kiss to the palm of my hand before he twists his wrist and slips his fingers beneath my waistband. I stiffen, ashamed at how fucking turned on I am from such simple touches, yet he merely hitches an eyebrow and destroys me with a smile.

Thumb massaging my hip, he teases the pads of his fingers across the rise of my pubic bone, back and forth, lower with each pass.

I’m fucking dying. Melting with anticipation. Reduced to a simpering mess as his grin spreads.

His fingers graze the seam of my pussy, and he stills.

I daren’t breathe.

He rolls his lips together, chin lifting before he exhales slowly.

I rock my hips, seeking more of his touch, but he pushes back with the heel of his hand, dropping his head to level our gazes.

I twitch a frown, shaking my head slightly.What?

He leans forward, kissing the spot where my tear rolled free not so long ago, before pulling back and running his thumb across the sensitive area inside my hipbone.

I shudder, offering a simple nod.Yes.I want this, even if the sadness lingers deep in my chest, waiting its turn.

Index and ring finger on either side of my pussy, he presses, spreading them apart to open me for him. A second passes, two, his crisp blue eyes darkening before he crooks his middle finger and swipes it through the evidence of my arousal.

I mewl at the sensation, hands tight around his neck as my legs threaten to give out.

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