Page 102 of Ugly Truths
He guides us backward, my back meeting the cool tile of the shower wall. One hand lands on my hip to keep me in place while the other slides upward, fingers grazing my ribs. His thumb brushes over my nipple with just enough pressure for me to suck in a breath.
My head tips back on instinct, a quiet sigh slipping free as his mouth moves down the length of my jaw and the curve of my neck. He rolls my nipple between his fingers, and the stubble along his chin scratches lightly against my skin. I whimper. The sound makes thehand at my side tighten to the point of pain, but I lean further into it.
The steam swirls, thick and slow, just as he cups my breast more fully, palm splaying across my skin with a kind of worship that makes my stomach flip.
Without a word, Silas lifts my leg with his free hand, hooking it around his hip. His body presses into mine, and for a moment, he doesn’t do anything except look at me. Lust and pain war in his expression—fierce, conflicted, impossible to separate. It’s all there, and I can’t tell which one is winning.
God, I hope I’m not the cause of that pain. That he’s not thinking about my part in all of this. Not while he’s touching me like I’m the only thing that’s ever made sense.
The length of his cock strokes between my legs. A moan escapes the back of my throat when he pulls back just enough for the head to graze against my clit before sliding down again. My fingers tighten on his shoulders, and I can feel the way his muscles contract beneath my palms.
Then he’s lining up and pushing forward, filling me completely. My breath stutters as I adjust to the bite of pain. Every inch, every pulse, every bit of weight he presses into me is like he’s trying to fuse us together. A calloused palm glides up my lifted thigh while the other finds the back of my neck, angling my face so he’s the only thing I see.
I can’t help but take inventory of the freckles spilling across his nose and cheeks. The slight pink tint of his skin. The water dripping from the curls that have flattened against his forehead. Then I meet his unrelenting stare.
Only when I hold his gaze does he finally start to move. His thrusts are measured in a way that feels like both punishment and reward. Each one drags against every nerve ending, stoking something deep and molten that spreads through my core, inch by inch.
He wants me to come undone slowly, by his design.
My hands roam over his chest, fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, nails leaving faint crescents in his skin. Our tongues tangle as if we have allthe time in the world. When I lick the roof of his mouth, the sound he makes sends another wave of fresh heat pulsing through me.
Silas pulls back just enough to breathe against my lips. “I love you.”
Those three words wash over me both like the gentlest lap of water and a tsunami barreling across a shoreline.
I’ve dreamt about the way he hissed them at me in his kitchen all those months ago. I held onto that fragile tether and anchored my own will to it, because even though it was directed at a person who doesn’t exist—for a few precious moments—I felt like the center of his world.
And this time, he’s saying them tome. Not Scarlett.
Me.
All the fear and doubts fall away, if only for now, because this was worth every second of the ache that came before it.
I don’t give myself the space to hesitate as I whisper back, “I've never loved anything like I love you.”
His eyes widen just a fraction, the dark brown seeming to glow so bright that they burn before settling to the color of charcoal. The rhythm of his thrusts slow even further, each stroke drawing out the friction, dangling me over the edge without letting me fall.
My blood is boiling. Every nerve alive. Then he shifts just slightly, angling his hips until he hits that spot inside me that sends a white-hot shockwave through my entire body. My legs tremble. My fingers dig down the hard lines of his traps as a cry tears from my throat.
“There it is,” he murmurs against my ear in the perfect combination of possession and tenderness. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”
The sounds that escape me are uninhibited, echoing. He groans against my neck, his pace quickening just enough to fray the control he’s been holding onto so tightly.
“Come for me.” His voice shakes with restraint. “I want to feel it.”
His command undoes me. With one more deep, punishing pump, I’m consumed in a wave of pleasure so intense it feels like I’m splitting in two. I writhe, hips grinding against him to siphon every millisecond of the high, desperate to feel it all.
Silas curses my name in a ragged breath before he follows me over the edge. His body tenses, pressing me harder into the wall, filling me with every last drop.
I heave, each rise and fall grazing our slick chests. Silas eases back just enough to look at me, eyes searching. Then, he brushes a damp strand of hair from my face, thumb delicately dancing over the top of my cheekbone.
“Thank you,” he murmurs so sincerely that it steals whatever words I might’ve had.
Then he kisses me again, pulling a quiet sigh from somewhere deep inside me. Only when he lets me up for air do I manage to pull together a coherent thought.
“Anytime,” I whisper, and I mean it.
For him, it will always be anytime.
