Page 85 of Silenced

It doesn’t work.

I flick a look at him, spying the intensity of his concentration, feelinghis desire not to cut me, and a strange whisper of…somethingflutters through me.

Once I’m bare, he scoops water from the detached shower head into his palm and trickles it over my sex.

Shuddering, I watch until he’s done, then I groan as he shoves his face into my cunt.

Wait, did I just usethatword? What the hell is he doing to me?

“Oh, God,” I cry, no longer caring about my potty mouth as my back immediately arches, hyper-aware of the fact that I’m ten times more sensitive than I’d been before.

With all of me exposed now, a single stroke of his tongue has me sobbing with relief at the contact.

The orgasm hits me too fast.

It’s short and sharp and more of a buzz than a release.

I’m not happy about it, dammit to hell.

Then, I remember I negotiated for two so I sink onto the perch and await my second reward.

Like it’s my right.

His fingers slide into my wet cunt and they spread wide, scissoring deep, before hooking upward. He touches a part of me that seems… different. I can’t explain how, but it does. Spongy? Is that a thing?

When he rubs it, the shudder that rushes through me feels like it comes from my core. Toes curling, I’m incapable of doing anything other than digging my heels into his shoulders as I drag him closer.

Splinters of electricity shoot along my spine, the source my very center, the bolts of pleasure spreading throughout my body until tears of reaction prickle my eyes.

He presses an open-mouthed kiss to my clit then starts to suckle until I release a sob that I can’t hold back.

“Nikolai,” I cry, his name breaking into two as he continues to torment me.

He freezes then.

His gaze darts to mine when my eyes pop open in a silent demand to know why he stopped.

Then, locked upon one another, he starts to move again.

But this time, it’s faster. Rougher. Less composed. Rawer.

I can’t explain it, don’t know how else to describe it, but I can tell he’s at the outer edges of his control.

And, Lord help me, I love it.

“Nikolai,” I whisper again, moaning when he growls into my pussy, finding it even more intense with how we’re watching one another.

His fingers pump harder and those electric shocks turn into something else, something more.

As his lips cling to my clit, those digits torturing a part of me that has never been touched before, I can feel myself approach the deep end.

Only, it’s a deep end I didn’t know existed.

When the orgasm strikes, I scream.

The noise is long and sharp and high and that’s exactly what he puts me through—the pleasure seems to be endless, hits with the might of a freight train, and makes me feel like there’s no such thing as a comedown.

He keeps me there, hovering, waiting, in a stasis that I’m sure will make me pass out, then with a wet kiss, he releases me and I sag like I’m broken. Like he destroyed me with pleasure.

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