Page 268 of Fractured Allegiance
“Unfortunately,” I murmur. My voice sounds raw, bruised.
He chuckles under his breath. The vibration hums through my spine, too intimate. “Liar. You like waking up next to me.”
I roll onto my back, forcing him to shift with me. His arm stays hooked over my ribs, his body still crowding mine. I let my eyes trail across him shamelessly—broad chest streaked with the lines I left, the faint bruises blooming along his collarbone where my teeth dug in. He’s a mess. My mess.
“Would you have cuffed me if we met differently?” I ask suddenly. The words taste dangerous in my mouth, sharp and bitter.
His eyes narrow, studying me like I’m a puzzle he already solved. He doesn’t blink. “I should have.” His hand slides along my waist, possessive, grounding. “I never will.”
The answer slices through me. It isn’t flirtation. It isn’t even a promise. It’s a vow, brutal in its simplicity. He should have put me in chains. He didn’t. He won’t.
My chest tightens. I force a laugh, sharp, ugly. “That’s your mistake, Silas.”
His hand slips higher, fingers curling around my ribs, thumb brushing the underside of my breast. He leans close enough that his mouth nearly touches mine, his eyes burning into me. “No, Lydia. That’s yours.”
The words sit between us like a loaded gun.
And I don’t pull away.
He doesn’t release me when I push at his chest. He only moves when I slide out from under his arm, bare feet hitting the floor, the sheet dragging with me. My legs ache, my hips ache, my cunt aches—and I feel it with every step, the soreness he left in me like a signature.
The bathroom is small, tiled in gray, the mirror cracked at one corner, the bulb overhead buzzing faintly. I twist the shower on, steam filling the space almost instantly. The water spits out hot and soothing, stinging against my skin when I test it.
I step inside.
The heat slides over me, washing away dried sweat and the remnants of sex, but it doesn’t clean anything that matters. I tip my head back, letting the water hit my face, tracing the bitemarks on my throat, the bruises on my ribs. Every inch of me screams about his signature all over me.
The door opens behind me. I don’t need to turn to know it’s him.
“Didn’t invite you,” I say flatly.
He steps in anyway, crowding the small stall, his hand bracing against the tile near my head. The water soaks his hair, slicking it back, rolling down over his chest, catching on the lines of muscle and the scratches I left. He looks brutal in the steam, a storm that refuses to pass.
“You don’t have to invite me,” he says, voice low, roughened by the water and the space between us.
I should shove him out. Instead, I press my palms to his chest, pushing once, testing. He doesn’t move. His eyes pin me, blue-gray burning through steam.
I bite his chest, sharp, just above his nipple. He groans, gripping the back of my head as my tongue flicks over the bite. I take his nipple between my teeth, rolling it, sucking until his hand clenches hard in my hair. He hisses, his cock jutting needily against my stomach, literally prodding me for attention.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “You’re dangerous.”
I grin against his skin. “And you’re already hard again.”
I drag my mouth lower, across his ribs, down the line of muscle that leads into his hips. He’s panting by the time I sink to my knees on the slick tile, water running down my face as I wrap my hand around his cock, stroking him once, twice. He’s heavy in my hand, the head flushed, leaking, begging.
I lick him from base to tip, slow, savoring. His head tips back against the wall, a curse tearing from his throat. I smirk,wrapping my lips around the head, sucking, swirling my tongue until his hands fist in my hair again.
“Don’t tease, Lydia,” he groans.
I slide him deeper, gagging slightly, saliva mixing with the water, dripping down my chin. His hips thrust forward, fucking into my mouth, and I let him, my throat stretching around him, my nails digging into his thighs.
He looks down at me, eyes blazing through steam, jaw tight. “Look at you,” he groans. “On your knees for me.”
I pull back just enough to smirk up at him, lips wet, voice raw. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
His answer is to drag me up, spin me, press my front against the tile. His hand grips my throat, pinning me there, his cock grinding against my ass. The water pours over both of us, the heat making my skin slick, sensitive, desperate.
“Don’t think for a second I’m done with you,” he growls against my ear.
