Page 60 of The Sound in Silence

But I mean what I told her.

Stroking my thumbs over her cheekbones, I bring her face closer, meeting her halfway. When I speak, our lips are so close, mine tingle with desire.

“Tell me to kiss you. Grant me at least this, Ariella.”

Between my hands, her head rocks lightly, and if that wasn’t enough, she mouths,Yes, as her eyes flutter shut and for the first time since our wedding ceremony, I kiss my wife.

I kiss her, but I want her to claim control. To test her and see how far she’ll go. That fire in her gaze, the one threatening to explode, merely needs a spark, and I want this to be it.

My lips move over hers, my tongue tracing her mouth until she opens for me. But the second our tongues meet,mia sirenacomes to life. She rises up on her knees as my hands fall away from her face and clamp her hips, pinning her over my lap. She cups my cheeks, angling her face, and with that single move, I discover the real version she’s been burying.

She lets out a breathy moan, making my cock jerk beneath us. I long to lay her on my desk and explore her body. First her neck, to discover if it’s sensitive, then her breasts, and finally the heat between her legs. I’ll kiss her there until she grants me permission to taste the rest of her.

But this is all in her control, and finding a woman who enjoys dominating seems so fucking impossible in my role. They all think they need to be submissive to me, not understanding that in the bedroom sometimes, it’s nice to let go.

When she pulls back and ends the kiss with a look I think is almost regrettable, I realize how much I don’t want her to leave this room yet. When she goes, will there be a new understanding between us in which wetryto make this a proper marriage or will my shitty lack of knowledge take over and throw Ariella back into doubting my desires?

With strength of pure will, I remove my hands from her body, and wrap them over the top of my chair, fingers digging into the fine leather to steady me.

“I won’t touch you until you tell me to, but I want you to explore. I want you to do whatyouwant. Command me how you will. You feel me between your legs, and I bet if I were to check, I’d find you soaking.”

Her instant blush tells me I’m correct.

“Which means you’re needy, and I want you to take what your body desires without the worry of me touching you.”

She smiles, and all her previous concerns seem to melt away. I’m no longer staring at the woman I’ve married, rather the person she used to be, before life brought her down. The woman she’s meant to become again, and it’s then, I make a silent vow to her.

You will be who you want to be again, Ariella. I’ll ensure that much.

Her hands slide from my face to my collarbone where she steadies herself as she rotates her hips, and despite the two layers of clothing between us, I pretend there’s none. That my freed cock is sliding between her bare pussy before she takes me into her body.

Hair falls into her face and I long to push it away, but my grip on the leather doesn’t allow me to. She’s staring down, between our bodies, with an almost curious expression as she rocks her hips. And again. And again until I hear it. Her gentle moan.

“Let me hear you. Don’t hide from me.”

Her head tilts up until she meets my eyes again and with a wicked grin, she rocks faster. Her fingers work at my shirt, and the moment she uncovers my chest, her hands explore freely. My chair feels very fragile suddenly. We’ve only just begun and I want to tear it in half to touch her.

Iwantto beg her for permission too, but not yet. First, she’ll come like this. That’s my single desire for us—to see her become so free and trusting, the orgasm sweeps her.

Does she scream or try to hold it in with a low moan? Does her body go stiff, her muscles uncooperative, or does she ride it out? Reactions I long to discover for myself.

As if it wasn’t torture enough, she finishes unbuttoning my shirt all the way to the bottom before lingering around the waistband of my pants. If she undoes my zipper and touches my cock, I’m a fucking goner.

Instead—and thankfully? Regretfully?—her touch is limited to my chest, her hands sliding up and down my stomach, my abs, my chest, while her legs tighten around me. My cock demands more, to feel her orgasm directly.

And it’s a fucking sight to behold. She gasps, having brought herself to the edge, and with a look that’s almost panicked, almost surprised, she hauls her chest to mine. Her triangle-covered breasts allow me to feel her hard nipples as she steals my mouth again.

My hands grip the seat tighter. Rather it than her because I’m seconds away from breaking my own deal. Her thrusts increase, her whimpers lost in our kiss as her tongue fights mine, a battle for domination she’s winning.

“Come, Ariella,” I murmur. “Let me see you come.”

Not a screamer, but her loud moan, mingled with a kiss immediately plants itself in my head. I’ll never stop reliving this second, especially if it’s the only moment of us like this.

She pulls back, slyly grinning, which I’m grateful to see. There’s no hesitation or regret in her expression as she comes fully down from her orgasm.

My cock isn’t pleased with us. It strains beneath her, craving her heat. Her wetness right fuckingthere, separated by my slacks and her bikini bottoms, which hardly constitutes as clothing.

If she were another woman, I’d fuck her right now. Take her on my desk. But lust will not destroy the progress made today. Even if I’m a greedy fucker and my next words come from a place of masochism.

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