Page 13 of Caught

Silas purred. “Your body knows the truth.” He dragged his lips down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to Evan’s throat, his collarbone, his chest. “And so do you.”

Evan’s breath came in ragged gasps, his world narrowing to nothing but Silas—the heat of him, the scent of him, the devastating way his hands were exploring every inch of him.

Silas’ voice dipped lower, rough and possessive.

“You’re mine, Evan.”

And the worst part?

Evan didn’t know if he wanted to fight it anymore.

Silas kissed him again, deep and slow, like he had all the time in the world to break Evan apart piece by piece. His lips were warm, demanding, coaxing Evan into surrender with every brush, every slick slide of his tongue against Evan’s own.

There was no hesitation in the way he claimed his mouth—no doubt, no second-guessing. Silasknewwhat he was doing. Heknewwhat he wanted.

And that was Evan.

Evan tried to hold onto the last fraying threads of resistance, tried to remind himself that this was reckless,dangerous, thathe should be shoving Silas away, not melting into his touch. But every time he thought he had a grasp on control, Silas stole it from him with a roll of his hips, a slow, devastating stroke of his tongue, a possessive hum deep in his chest that rumbled through Evan’s bones.

He wasdizzywith it.

Silas shuddered, breath hitching as he broke the kiss just long enough to let out a ragged groan. “Fuck, Evan…” he rasped, voice thick with something almost pained. His hands clenched at Evan’s waist, gripping him, possessive and unyielding, as if anchoring himself before he lost all control.

And still, his cock pulsed between them, twitching, aching, demanding.

Evan’s breath was ragged, his lips tingling from the bruising intensity of Silas’ kiss. His mind was spinning, grasping for something solid, but then the words Silas had murmured minutes ago slithered back into his thoughts.

Bet you don’t even realize how good you’d look wrapped around me, do you?

His stomach tightened, heat curling low in his gut.

Hecoulddo it. Right now.

His gaze flickered down, drawn helplessly to the thick, pulsing length trapped between them. The heavy weight of it, the way it throbbed against his stomach, leaking hot slickness against his skin. It washuge, impossibly thick, and the thought of taking it into his mouth made his pulse stutter.

Could he even do it? Fit that thing between his lips? He imagined it—his mouth stretching wide, his tongue sliding over the flushed head, tasting the salty slickness of him…

His own cock throbbed, still neglected, aching, straining against the fabric of his pants.

His face burned. God, what thefuckwas he thinking? He should be trying to get away, not… not entertaining thoughts likethat. Not letting the hunger in Silas' eyes seep under his skin like something dark and intoxicating.

Slowly, deliberately, Silas’ lips curved into a knowing smirk. His sharp eyes, molten and feral, locked onto Evan’s with sharp, predatory amusement.

Evan’s breath caught. His heart slammed against his ribs as realization crashed over him—Silasknew.

Silas growled low in his throat, a sound of raw pleasure, his breath ragged as he shifted up over Evan’s chest in one fluid, predatory motion.

Evan’s pulse thundered in his ears as he looked up, his breath catching in his throat. His hand, still wrapped around Silas’ cock, stuttered to a halt—because now, now it wasright there, thick and aching, hovering just inches from his lips.

Silas’ hand slid into his hair, fingers threading through the strands, firm but not forcing—not yet—just guiding. The weight of that touch sent a shiver down Evan’s spine, an unspoken promise thrumming in the air between them.

And it was clear what that promise was.

Evan's gaze locked onto the cock in his grip, and fuck—he had felt it before, the size of it, the impossible heat, but seeing it up close was something else entirely. It washuge, heavy and swollen, flushed a deep, needy red, veins thick and pulsing with barely restrained hunger. A bead of precome gathered at the tip, glistening in the low light, slicking over his fingers where he still held it.

He swallowed hard, heat curling deep in his gut, his own cock twitching against his thigh in response. He had thought he was in control, had told himself he could manage this—but Silas was undoing him, piece by piece, stripping him of every last denial, making him want in ways he had spent years refusing to acknowledge.

He should say something. Push back. Make some last attempt at resisting the inevitable.

---