Page 96 of Silenced

Jesus, why do I feel lightheaded?

Breathless with excitement when his hips rock as I jack him off, I pump him faster, wanting to see him explode. Needing it. Almost as much as I want to come.

He’s officially made me as weird as he is. Or maybe it was always there and he’s just brought it out of me.

I shiver when he starts making soft, thrusting motions with his ass, his head angled back slightly even though I know his eyes are locked on me.

Again, I’m flooded with the realization that I did this. I’m doing this. Me. I’m making him hot and bothered. I’m the reason he’s hard. I’m behind that pre-cum that oozes down his shaft like he provides his own bottle of lubricant with every hand job.

I grab his balls again, palming them, twisting them gently, urging him to come, wanting it with every fiber of my being.

Then, a strange whisper ofsomethinghits me.

And I act on it—I snag the end of my braided hair and curl it around his shaft.

When he realizes what I’ve done, his guttural groan feels like it comes from Hell itself. His eyes flare wide,wild,as I wrap him up and jack him off with what fascinates him so much.

I barely get four or five strokes in when his hand grips my shoulder and he’s dragging me through the water toward him.

My mind freezes.

Any joy I was finding in this starts to fade.

Harvey would do this.

He’d shove my face in his crotch.

Would force me to suck him—

Before I can freak out, Nikolai is making broken grunts as his hips pump the air and his cum is suddenly splashing all over me.

My breasts, my throat, my belly. Higher—my face. Cheeks, nose.

It pours out of him for what feels like forever.

The heat of him stains my skin as he ekes out every second of pleasure with rough growls that make me want to melt.

When he’s done, his heavy breathing sounds overly loud in the quiet space. I’m used to his silence, but I much prefer this.

He watches me with eyes that are slitted and it comes as no surprise when he starts to rub his cum into my skin—moisturizer it isn’t but I don’t tell him that, not when his touch has me jerking in astonishment at my level of enjoyment.

Then, much as he always does, he drifts down, down, down.

Falling backward into the water, I prop my heels under my ass. It’s difficult not to slip, but I want this as much as he does. The move angles my hips higher and lets me spread my legs wider.

When his fingers find my slit, I shudder as, more gently than he usually does, he rims my entrance and thrusts inside me.

As he retreats, he pets my clit on the way out.

A soft whimper escapes me as he rubs me there, fast little circles with his slippery fingertips that have the water rocking and splashing as I uncover a hot, hard orgasm that quenches the ache deep inside.

A moment later, as I’m still panting from my own release, he slides into the bathtub, startling me by drawing me onto his lap.

It’s one of those basins that have no faucet at either end, ya know,expensive, but I don’t complain. Nor do I argue when he smoothes his arms around my waist and adjusts me so that I’m sitting on his lap.

Then, he grunts and, because the bath is so damn big, he shifts me sideways so that I’m sitting between his thighs, my legs resting over one of his.

Flushing, thinking he had to do that because I’m too heavy for him, I start to maneuver away but swiftly realize he positioned me like that so we can communicate and he can still have me close.

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