Page 28 of Natasha
Chapter 6
"Home sweet home." Silas opened the door with a flourish. He had what Natasha would categorize as a "wolfish grin" on his lips. She felt like little red riding hood, but instead of encountering a wolf in her own home, she'd willingly left the safety of the well-traveled path to follow him into his den.
Silly, silly girl.
Silas hadn't stopped touching her since the moment the elevator doors had closed behind them. His hands greedy on her flesh, fingers tugging gently at her hair, questing and tracing lightly beneath the denim of her jacket before slipping lower to push her skirt up her thighs. Her soft skin exposed his calloused fingers, and all the while Silas had kissed her. Any and everywhere he could press his lips without compromising her entirely in the elevator was fair game during their ride. Natasha had given as good as she'd gotten and had met his kisses enthusiastically, her small hands threading through his hair and pulling at his shirt while she pressed herself against him.
Needless to say, when the elevator had finally arrived at their destination, he'd scooped her up in his arms, bridal style, and had set off determinedly down the hallway. Natasha had laughed and buried her face in his shoulder when they encountered a shocked neighbor just leaving their apartment. Silas didn't so much as slow down, but Natasha had given them a cheerful wave over his shoulder. Now they were standing in the middle of his apartment, and Natasha barely noticed the beautiful hardwood or the abundance of natural light flooding the open floor plan of the living room and kitchen space.
All she could see was Silas, wolfish grin in place, and eyes hot on her. There would be time to marvel at the view or comment on the apartment later. Now was the time for sex. And hopefully, lots of it.
"C'mere, baby girl." Silas crooked a finger at her, beckoning her forward.
Without hesitation, Natasha crossed the few steps separating them and came to stand before him. Now just inches in front of him, she stopped short, uncertain of what to do next. She looked up at him with questioning eyes; the sunlight streaming into the room bathed Silas in light, making his golden hair shine like a halo, although Natasha was sure the things he was about to do to her were anything but holy. At least she prayed they were.
Silas reached out and slipped her denim jacket from her shoulders; he moved to place it on the counter beside her. Then his hands wandered down to the straps of her sundress, dainty little things that crisscrossed in the back and made Natasha think of the many dance costumes she'd donned over the years.
Silas paused, one finger under a strap, and raised an eyebrow. He was hesitating now, but he only did so for a moment. "Are you sure?" he asked, fingers stroking the skin across her collarbone with feather light touches.
"Yes," Natasha rasped out.
Silas inched the straps off her shoulder lightly and stepped closer to her. "Think carefully, little one. This isn't going to be like any relationship you've had before. Because that's what this will be. It's not a fling or casual. You're with me, and darling, I'm with you, right and proper if you say yes."
Natasha's lips turned up in a quick smile. "I know. That's what I'm counting on. That's what I want."
Silas' fingers slid the straps lower on her arms until her dress hung by his fingertips. "You and I are equals, partners in this, Tash. But you trust me always. If I ask you to do something, I need you to listen and to trust why I'm asking it of you. If you aren't certain, use your voice. Talk to me, but always trust that I have a reason. Daddies have a purpose, baby. If I'm yours, I'm going to protect you, cherish you, and love you. Do you understand me?"
Natasha licked her lips, eyes darting down to where her dress was suspended in Silas' fingers. "Yes. I want that. Please," she whispered and watched as Silas let the garment slip from his fingers. It fluttered around her legs until it pooled around her feet. Natasha raised her eyes to Silas to see his gaze roving appreciatively over her body.
Everywhere his eyes landed felt like fire on her skin, and she fought hard to not fidget under his stare. She'd stood in the same or less in front of other dancers, costumers, audiences of thousands even, but the weight of Silas' eyes on her made her knees weak. Taking a deep breath, Natasha willed herself to stand stock still as Silas lightly touched her skin, fingertips gently skimming her skin. She swallowed hard, watching his hand move over the swell of her breasts before dipping lower to skim over her stomach. She was wearing a white cotton bra and panty set, and while they were minimal, the bottoms were high cut and made her feel sexy in a softer way. Silas' soft words ignited a yearning in her to be protected, to be handled like a delicate thing, a luxury she'd never been allowed. Her family loved her; she knew that, but there had been next to no gentle words or tenderness during her childhood. She'd grown up too fast, but now this beautiful man was offering all of it to her on a silver platter. She'd follow him wherever he led her if this was what she got in return.
"You're as pretty as a picture." Silas turned his hand over so that his knuckles grazed her skin. The sensation instantly causing goosebumps to appear on her arms and legs. He stepped to the side of her with a grin. "Relax, Tash," he whispered.
She gave him a quick apologetic smile. "I-I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, baby girl. Don't be nervous. I'm just...lookin'." Silas moved behind her, his lips gently nipping at her ear. "Tell me you want this, baby. This is your last chance. We'll stop if you aren't sure." One of his hands came up to cover her stomach, fingers splaying across her skin and pressing her back into him. "Last chance to walk away from me."
"I want to stay with you," Natasha breathed, eyes closing. She leaned back against his broad chest. "I want to stay with you," she repeated, firmer this time, surer.
Silas noticed the change in her tone and pushed her hair away from her neck, a low rumble of approval in his chest against her back. Natasha tipped her head back against Silas' shoulder with a little sigh. "I'm staying," she told him, eyes closed as she spoke.
The hand that had been resting on her shoulder moved along until it encompassed the column of her neck, his fingers tensing for just a moment before they resumed stroking her skin gently. The slight pressure, quick as it was, made Natasha lick her lips.
"You like that?" Silas asked, not missing her reaction.
"I, y-yes, I think," Natasha stammered.
Silas flexed the fingers resting on her stomach before he slowly dragged them lower. He caught an edge of her panties and twisted it up around his knuckles. "Am I touching you enough now, baby girl?"
She felt like weeping at how good she was feeling pressed against him. "Yes." She would have said more, but the butterfly light touches of Silas' fingers sliding lower still before dipping between her thighs had her short of breath.
"Could listen to you make that sound all day," Silas moaned. His teeth nipped at the delicate skin behind her ear. "So beautiful, baby." His lips followed his teeth, tongue soothing the stinging bite. "Inside and out."
The tender tone of Silas' voice pulled another moan from her lips. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her into his room. The quick trip seemed to take an eternity, but thankfully, finally, Silas was laying her down gently on his bed. Once he had her settled, he yanked his shirt off with one arm and made quick work of pulling off his pants. Natasha propped herself up on an elbow and let out a satisfied sound at seeing Silas in nothing but his boxers.
The man looked like he was cut from marble, the very definition of physical strength and perfection. There had never been another man she'd been intimate with who had possessed the same raw and powerful physique as Silas. He was muscular and thick in all the right areas—large biceps, a six-pack, and powerful thighs made for fighting and defense, not vanity. All tan skin, blond hair, and muscles, he was a veritable feast for the eyes in an all-American package.
If he let her, she would be happy to stare at him for the better part of the afternoon, but she knew that wasn't something he had the patience for. Not when he was looking at her with a mixture of lust and reverence, but it didn't stop her from putting her feelings into words, so she tried. "You're beautiful."
