Page 48 of Silent Is The Heart

Easing in another finger, I bite back all the praise I want to shower him with for being in my life, for being so wonderful, and for being the strongest, sexiest man I’ve ever met. I’ll get him to accept those compliments some other day—baby steps.

Grunting, his eyes slip closed, and he shudders when I pass over his gland. Transfixed over the way his mouth falls open, I’m suddenly impatient to be inside of him. I wait, though, slowly working my fingers and watching the beauty of him unfolding before my eyes.

“Okay,” he gasps. “Okay.Now.”

Raising his knees higher, his eyes dart between my face and where I draw my cockhead over his ring like he can’t decidewhich he’d rather watch. I know whatIwant to watch—him, just him. Nothing has ever been more in focus in my life.

His face looks like he’s about to meet his death and yet his hands have slipped to my waist, kneading it sensually. He must finally see something in my expression that gives my nerves away because he reaches up and strokes my cheek with his thumb. I nod for some reason, as though I’m telling us both that it’s okay to feel this lost and that it will still be okay afterward. Nothing will ever be the same between us, and I don’t want it to be.

Pressing forward, I hold my breath, watching the brave façade on his face. It’s mingled with this look of hope, almost like he’s watching the sky for a shooting star. His eyes slip shut, and hot gusts of breath hit my cheek. A low moan erupts from his throat. It’s a soft, breathy sound that I selfishly wish he could produce to the fullest. He deserves to hear how he feels.

I feel rigid as a board, but my muscles are quaking. My heart is slamming against my ribs from the way his body is cuffing me.

A long sound of relief filters past his lips and the pressure around my cock instantly abates. His eyes flare open, and I know he’s seen his shooting star. His gaze flicks to my mouth, and I go happily where his hand directs when he tugs me to his lips. I never knew topping could be just as emotional as it is for the person bottoming. Maybe it’s just him. Maybe it’s just because it’shimandme. I don’t know, but my filter springs a leak.

“I’m so glad you didn’t leave.” Easing my hips back, my body finds a slow rhythm, encouraged by his moans. “I thought you hated me.”

Scoffing, he takes two handfuls of my ass, sending a thrill all the way to my toes as he squeezes. “Thought we cleared that up.”

A celebratory whir spins inside my chest, my doubts flying away to a forgotten place. I just… enjoy. And he enjoys. And we watch each other enjoying. I will hear all his sounds in my mind until I’m too old to dream. I’ll feel the memory of his heels pressing at my lower back, his hands running over my body as we move like a slowly building chemical reaction.

His head thrashes. I can feel the tension in his legs and abdomen. I can see it on his face. I can hear it in the way his moans have changed to a sound of sweet agony. He keeps reaching like he wants to either stroke or stop himself. His hand retreats again, and he looks at me like I need to put him out of his misery.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “I didn’t know it’d feel this good,” he grits, baring his teeth.

It’s killing me not to pick up the pace. I’m so close, right where he seems to be, too. I don’t want it to end. I don’t want to unweave my fingers from that wild hair of his. But all good things must end and there’s still a higher plane I can take him to.

“I knew it would,” I whisper back before capturing his mouth again and reaching between us, making the decision for him.

He groans in protest, like he was determined to hold out longer. God, there’s no need. Drawing back, I try not to blink as I come so that I can see his expression. It’s like being seen on another level, as though some being appeared in a halo of light the way he looks at me as I pulse inside him and he spills over my hand, clutching onto my wrist.

His voice cracks in a raspy wail. I kept thinking how sad it was that his voice wasn’t as perfect as it might’ve been able to be, but I was so wrong. It’s perfect, just as it is. It’s the sound of our broken pasts. It’s the sound of the man that life made him. It’s just as it ought to be.

As our tremors subside, the room goes silent, all but for our winded noises. Droopy-lidded, he smiles up at me part bashful again, but mostly sated. He can say so much without words. Did I ever truly listen? I blink heavily, fighting the sleep that’s hunting me. I don’t want to look away from the silent heart that just brought me back from the dead.

CHAPTER 24

Easton

Who used to be a highly capable tattoo artist who could finish a design before anyone else in this shop, but now watches the clock, counting the minutes until Aaron gets off work? This fucking idiot… this smitten as fuck…

No. I’mnotan idiot. I’m…

I’m not going to say it. A giant rock will fall on me, or I’ll trip outside and Wolf will accidentally run me over with his van or something. That’s what happens when you say it out loud… or think it. Right?

Cleaning my tools from my last job before my next client comes in, I decide there’s at least nothing wrong with thinking aboutwhyI feel how I feel. Yeah. Cool. That’s safe.

People fuck all the time. So, why do I keep smiling like I have a secret whenever I think about the other day?

Because you finally got fucked by the only man you ever wanted to fuck you.

Shut up.

Great. Now I’m arguing with myself.

Oneof medoeshave a point, though. It wasn’t exactly fucking. It was… theotherkind of fucking. The nice kind.

Does Shannon have the heat cranked up in here? The memory of feeling like Aaron was part of my soul while helooked down at me like I was the only thing he wanted to see for the rest of his life sends me into another hot flash. Okay. It’s not our furnace.

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