Page 156 of Silenced

Is she revolted? Disgusted?

I don’t want to know.

That’s why I stayed away.

But I can’t stay away for long.

She calls me back to her like a siren. The pull she has on me is something I’ve never experienced before and now that I know it exists, I refuse to be without it.

To be withouther.

I know from the cameras that she’s asleep as I step inside the bedroom.

Behind me, the door locks, and I start to strip out of my clothes, leaving them over by the vanity where I’ve watched her primp and preen, stamping her mark, claiming this asherspace. Making it a home, not just somewhere for me to sleep.

Piling my dirty laundry there for the staff to take in the morning, I drop my knife and cell phone into one of the top drawers, then turn around and stare at her as she sleeps.

Even as she rests, I feel her call and my dick reacts predictably.

As it hardens, I can no more stop myself from walking toward her side of the bed than I can stop my heart from taking its next beat.

Looming over her makes me feel even fucking filthier than I did before, but when did morals ever stop me?

Stroking my cock, I watch her as she sleeps, finding beauty in her stillness. Cupping my balls, I twist them gently.

With my thumb, I smooth the pre-cum gathering at the tip along the length of my shaft to ease the passage of my fist.

A soft grunt escapes me, one I try to contain but I can’t.

Even like this, with no part of her touching me, she’s the best I’ve ever had.

I rock my hips, thrusting through the hole I made with my hand, and my eyes shutter, not enough that I can’t see her though. Watching her like this is…blyad, too good.

I groan as my balls throb, release forming swift and hard because of the stressful day I’ve had. But just before I can shoot my load, her eyes pop open.

They collide with mine in the low light from the windows.

Her gaze flickers over me, down to my cock, and she freezes.

Then, she sits up.

I half expect her to punch me in the balls—she’d have done that in the early days—but she doesn’t.

She stuns me.

She presses a kiss to my bobbing cock and lets the glans flutter along her Cupid’s bow.

I can’t hold back any longer, so I watch as my cum pelts her open lips, her tongue, and her chin, trailing it onto the tits she exposes as she shoves the blankets away.

When my hips stop thrusting of their own volition, I lean over, let the flat of my tongue slide through the cum on her face until I’m close to her ear and I whisper, “You’re too good for me.”

Her nails dig into my nape as she grabs my hand. When she slides it between her legs, I find her clit as she whispers back, “Isn’t that for me to decide?” When her thighs tighten around my hand, she breathes, “No one makes me feel like you do, Nikolai. No one.”

So, it is mutual.

Pride roars through me as does the urge to slide home, to crawl between her thighs, to sink into her, to forget…

When I pump a finger into her, she whimpers, and I can feel my dick start to harden.

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