Page 73 of Ugly Truths
For a moment, he stays still, as if waiting for me to break first, but I would rather chew on rocks than give him that much right now.
When I don’t relent, his once-compliant hands begin to move. They skim over the sides of my thighs. As they round to the curve of my ass, his grip tightens enough to drag a soft gasp from my lips. His knowing smile grows as the restraint continues to unravel.
“You’re a goddamn vision,” he murmurs while giving me another teasing squeeze. “I should piss you off more often.”
A pulse of irritation shoots through me. “This isn’t a joke,” I snap, though my voice wavers as I tug at the tie still wrapped around my wrist. “This is about respect and boundaries.”
Silas lifts an eyebrow, his hands resuming their deliberate exploration. One hand slides up my back, slipping beneath the hem of my rash guard, fingers splaying across my bare skin. His calloused palm presses firmly against my spine.
“Boundaries,” he repeats, tasting the word. “What are your boundaries, Lena?”
A shiver rolls through me, involuntary and damning.
“Boundaries,” I repeat, trying to focus. “For starters, no more letting other women get comfortable enough to touch you.”
His lips twitch slightly, but he doesn’t interrupt. The hand on my back moves higher, his thumb tracing a lazy path along my spine and under my sports bra.
“Go on.” His voice is so composed that it only makes the feral glint in his eyes more pronounced.
I grit my teeth. “No more lingering conversations with women, especially ones you’ve slept with,” I continue as he leans in, lips brushing the hollow of my ear.
“Anything else, princess?” he asks, his other hand slipping down to my waist, his thumb beginning to trace slow, maddening circles against my hip. “I want to make sure I’mveryclear on your expectations.”
I arch into him without thinking. The tie slips from my wrist as my hands flatten against his chest. My head lolls, granting him access I hadn’t intended to give.
“That covers it. No touching. No lingering conversations. And you make it clear you’re taken by… someone,” I answer, stumbling on the last word. “That’s all of it.”
As I finish my demands, his lips descend on me, tongue tracing the column of my throat in one devastating sweep. A shudder rips through me.
“Feel better now?” he murmurs against my skin, biting down in the junction of my shoulder and neck just hard enough to make me inhale sharply. “Because I do.”
“Asshole,” I manage, but there’s no real resistance.
A low chuckle vibrates through him as he presses a lingering kiss to my collarbone before raising his head. Those capable, practiced hands find the waistband of my shorts.
“I could get used to this,” he muses.
My breath catches as his fingers slip beneath the fabric, the contrast of his cool touch against my burning skin making every nerve in my body snap to attention.
“Get used to what?” I ask, though the words sound more like a pant than a question.
“You.” His lips curve into a half-smile against my jaw, fingers ghosting along the edge of my underwear. “Barging in here like you own the place.”
Heat licks up my skin, spreading to the apples of my cheeks, but not just from his touch.
How can he be so unbothered?
Sometimes, it seems Silas doesn’t truly understand the impact he has on people and what they might do to hold his attention.
“How would you feel if it were the other way around?” My voice is quieter than before.
Silas pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. The warmth that was there just seconds ago hardens.
Suddenly, he’s swiveling to face his desk and, with too much ease, lifts me off his lap and onto it. The mixture of the cool wood and the growing distance between our bodies leaves me feeling exposed.
There’s a brief pause while he exhales through his nose, though his hands come to rest on my knees. “I don’t have to imagine it because I saw it when you were on that date.”
Oh.
