Page 74 of Ugly Truths
The memories I pushed into the recesses of my mind come barreling to the front. Harrison’s hands on me, his tongue in my mouth. The way I sat there and let it happen, played my role, because that’s what I was supposed to do.
I don’t realize my eyes have dropped to the space between us, my mind sinking into the dark waters of that night, until Silas is suddenly standing over me, forcing my chin up with his fingers.
“I wanted to break every bone in his hands,” he says with no hesitation. “One by one.”
A slow, traitorous warmth blooms low in my stomach. I shouldn’t like the way that sounds, but I do.
The pad of Silas’s thumb strokes slowly across my skin, back and forth, before stopping in the small space between my lip and chin. He holds me there, refusing to let me slip away from his gaze like I used to. Even though every instinct screams to retreat, I force my eyes to stay on his.
My thoughts spill out before I can second-guess them. “That’s how I feel,” I murmur. “Seeing her touch you, looking at you like that. It made me want to—” I swallow hard. “I can’t even blame her. Of course, she’d try.”
The stumbling confession strips me of whatever confidence I had left. I try to glance down, but Silas’s grip tightens. He leans in,spreading my knees wider to accommodate his frame and closing the space between us like it belongs to him. His thumb drifts upward, pushing into the soft give of my bottom lip, then just slightly inward, pressing against the top of my bottom teeth. Heat pools low in my stomach.
Almost on instinct, I close my mouth around his finger, teeth catching his skin just enough to hold him still. His nostrils flare. “Alice did try to flirt with me.”
I hum in acknowledgment, letting my tongue swirl around the digit. Each stroke makes his eyes darken. “I told her I was seeing someone,” he continues, “the second she touched me.”
His free hand moves between us, expertly sliding down the front of my shorts. His palm presses hard against my center with just enough pressure to steal the air from my lungs. A soft, broken exhale escapes me, releasing his thumb from my mouth.
Silas’s head dips down, palm still pressed firmly between us. “She guessed it was you and was immediately respectful of it.”
The knot in my chest loosens, but it doesn’t disappear entirely. “Why didn’t you tell me that last night?” My voice sharpens again, despite the way my limbs already tremble under his hands.
“I wanted to see what you would do,” he admits with a diabolical smile. “And you didn’t disappoint.”
Fingers slip beneath my underwear and immediately find my clit, circling so perfectly, so excruciatingly slow that my hips jerk toward him. My whimper is muffled by his tongue as he invades my mouth in the same slow, teasing rhythm as his fingers.
Every calculated movement pulls me deeper under his spell, dissolving the sharp edges of my frustration. A hand slides into my hair to keep me from falling backward as I melt further into the desk.
“Are we going to keep fighting about Alice?” he breathes, pressing just a little harder, a little more insistent. “Or are you going to let me reward you?”
My lack of answer is all the invitation he needs. He works me purposefully, dragging out every ounce of pleasure with cruel precision. The slowburn that crawls up my spine is so hot that it’s agonizing, but it’s also so goddamn good I can’t think straight.
His fingers pinch and circle, retreating just so, leaving me teetering on the edge. When the need becomes unbearable, my hips move on instinct, grinding against his hand, searching for friction. The look in his eyes is borderline feral as he lets me take what I need.
My scalp tingles where his hold bites deeper. “How am I supposed to even look at another woman,” he growls, “when I have this?”
He drags his fingers lower, slipping inside of me and curling so quickly that the mind-melting sensation rips a strangled sound from my throat.
“When I can haveyouriding my hand?” Silas punctuates the words with a slow, deliberate thrust. “Moaning into my mouth? Falling apart for me just because I tell you to?”
My thighs quake as I gyrate. His grip tightens, forcing my chin up to meet his gaze—dark, molten, entirely in control.
“Let me have it,” he orders.
I hiss out a curse, but Silas swallows it, molding his mouth to mine. His fingers don’t slow until the white-hot ecstasy rips through every nerve in my body, pulsing deliciously with every erratic heartbeat.
My body bows into him, desperate to take everything he gives me. I ride his fingers, chasing every last spark of pleasure, dragging it out until my breath is nothing but wrecked gasps.
Silas doesn’t stop. Even as I shake, his fingers keep working me. His mouth is everywhere: my jaw, the curve of my neck, the top of my shoulder. Lips and teeth creating a trail of reverence, mapping out each precious inch of skin with such intent that it feels like a brand.
Only when the tremors ease and my muscles slacken does he finally slow. Carefully, Silas withdraws his hand from my shorts and smooths the fabric back into place while his other arm keeps me upright. He adjusts his hold as he straightens, drawing me closer to the edge of the desk. Then, finally, his mouth claims mine again in a kiss that douses any remaining anger.
There’s nothing like being the center of Silas’s attention. Nothing compares to the high of being seen, wanted, anddevouredby him.
When he pulls back, I see all the satisfaction of undoing me. It’s carved into the sharp lines of his body, and impossible to miss in the bulge straining against his pants, pressing against my leg.
“That’s my girl,” he praises, lifting a hand to brush the strands of hair clinging to my cheek.
