Page 85 of The Sound in Silence

A bit. I nod. It’s been way too many years since I’ve had sex, and he’s not exactly small by any measurement. The last time I orgasmed before him, had brought myself to completion, has been…I can’t recall. Having the desire to bring myself pleasure has been rarely present, considering the darkness so often prevents me from getting out of bed. Tasks like eating are sometimes a chore I only complete to ensure my mask stays upright; anything extra is simply useless, time consuming, and energy sucking.

Instead of frowning or even grinning, his expression turns almost deadly…cold. Cold with a possessiveness in his gaze that eases me. “Good. I want to be all you feel.”

Well, damn. Can’t argue with that.

With a look I think is reluctance, Erico returns to the tub, switches off the water after a quick additional test, and comes back to my side. He lifts me from the counter and carries me right into the tub, stepping in first and adjusting me as he sits. He takes the phone I’m still holding and rests it on the small table to the opposite side of the tub. Still in reach, but now I can lower my arms beneath the water.

Erico has found the perfect temperature that immediately works at my muscles. My head falls back against his chest, my arms limp over his legs. My knees, which were upright, fall open against the tub’s sides. When Erico rubs my shoulders, I groan, thinking how death could come now and I’d die happily.

“Good?”

“Mm.” Hopefully my noise suffices to do what I need it to, and based on his chuckle, it does.

His hands work down my arms, lightly massaging every part of me. He reaches my thighs and does the same until I’m unable to hold them up at all and they stretch alongside his.

“Sleep if you want.” His hands brush my hair to one shoulder, keeping the other side bare for his lips, which he trails up and down my neck. “I got you, Ariella.”

You do.

So I do exactly as he commands and shut my eyes, not meaning to sleep, but between his touch, the hot water, and the orgasms minutes ago, I drift.

* * *

When the water cools, I’m woken by Erico lifting me from the tub. After wrapping a towel around me, holding me in his opposite arm, he notices me blinking awake.

“You slept for about a half hour,” he tells me before carrying me to the bed.

He’s still naked and dripping water everywhere but doesn’t seem bothered by this. Once laying me on the bed, he disappears again and returns wrapped with a towel around his waist. He hands me his phone which he also retrieved, giving me a voice to reply.

Thank you,I mouth and gesture to the bathroom, indicating the bath.

“You’re—” But then he stops, his brows melding together. His lips roll together and with an expression of complete determination, his right hand comes up to his chin and downwards in an arc. At the same time, he mouths,You’re welcome, but his words don’t matter. Because I understood the action.

He used sign language.

Before I allow myself to think on it too long, because it’s quite possible he only knows that single sign, he makes more motions:I’ve…been…learning.

Awkward gestures, spaced out as he struggles to remember the correct actions. But he manages. He’s signing…

With a crooked smirk, he explains, “Sebastian’s been teaching me. Not an easy skill. That’s where I’ve been spending a lot of my evenings. I’m trying, Ariella. You might need to give me time to get it right.”

Heistrying. Not only is he trying; he’sbeentrying for a while.

My heart burns, the truth fighting to be freed. To be said.

I think…I think I—

Stop.I can’t allow myself to open upthatmuch. Not now, not yet. It’ll come crashing down if I think it.

I’m torn between needing to get off this bed and go to him, to replying back in ASL, or letting shock keep me down. He gives me no choice by coming around the bed and leaning down for a heated kiss. It doesn’t last as long as I’d like before he’s dragging me to the closet.

“I’m hungry for dinner. Besides, sooner we eat, the sooner I have dessert.”

* * *

After dinner was cooked, Erico sent Carlotta away for the night because the moment we were both done eating, he came to my end of the table and dropped to his knees, spread my legs, and buried his head in my pussy, bare because he demanded I not wear anything beneath the short, blue sundress.

When he stands after giving me two orgasms back-to-back, his mouth is wet from me, and all it does is make me want him again. Will there be a time I ever get enough of him?

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