Page 16 of Silver Fox
“I wore that dress because he never let me wear it when we were together,” she admits, chewing on her lip and looking away. “He always said I looked…”
“Perfect,” I snarl. “Perfect is the word you’re looking for. He never let you wear it because he knew you could do better. He tore you apart because he wanted to drag you down to his level.”
Skye looks up at me, her eyes heavy-lidded and her arms coming to rest around my shoulders. She pulls me over her, and I’ve never gone anywhere so willingly.
“You know you’re better than him, don’t you?”
She nods, gasping when she feels my erection between her thighs.
“Say it.”
“I’m better than him.”
I slide my cock into place. She’s slick with eight hours of our combined releases, and I glide right in. “Say it again, Skye.”
“I’m—oh!” Her eyes close at my first brutal thrust, her hands clawing into my graying hair to steady herself. She’s panting as she takes my cock, but she manages to get it out in a quick whimper. “I’mbetterthanhimoh!”
I rest up on my haunches, and her arms fall back above her head. Fuck, she’s a sight to see in my bed. “Damn right. He didn’t deserve you, did he?”
Her hands close around the bed’s headboard as I angle my cock inside her, ensuring the beads on my Jacob’s ladder rub against her exactly the way she likes it. “No, no—oh, oh,oh!”
“That’s it, baby.” She’s clenching already, and I slip my hand in between us, rubbing her sensitive, swollen clit.
“There, there, please.” Her eyes are closed, her brows so tightly drawn they’re almost touching.
The bed is slamming against the wall again, but her cries are louder, her volume increasing with every thrust. She’s nearly there, her walls tightening around my cock. The piercings increase my sensitivity, and I’m in fucking heaven inside her. My balls are braced tight, ready to explode.
“Come for me, Skye,” I growl, my voice rough and deep and commanding. She’s so close I can nearly taste it. “Come for me,now!”
Skye lets out a choke, frozen as I slam into her, our bodies slapping together with every thrust. But then I feel her hold on my cock tighten, and she cries out, spine arching, toes curling, pussy clenching—and she pulls me in with her. My orgasm was right there from the beginning, just waiting to explode. My balls are tight under me, and pleasure crests as I unload inside her, the waves hitting mehard.
“Look at me,” I snarl, pleasure constricting my voice into something primal. She obeys, and I hold her gaze as we come, our orgasms building and dying as one, and somewhere in the middle I claim her asmine, marking her out asmywoman, and I know when dawn breaks I’m never going to let her go.
5
Skye
WhenIawaken,Silasis nowhere to be seen.
I get the feeling that I haven’t been asleep for very long at all. Through the vast windows around me, the sun is only just rising. Few people are out this early, but Silas’s penthouse is so high up that those that are out and about are nothing but specks on the ground below.
With a groan, I remember my eight o’clockdisciplinary hearingwith Kenneth at work. “For fuck’s sake,” I mutter, pinching the bridge of my nose. Yawning, I quickly open up my period tracker, clicking the littleIntercoursebox to add a checkmark—for the first time in weeks. I knew Brett and I hadn’t been having regular sex, but I hadn’t realized for how long. The last time we were intimate was beforeThanksgiving.
Well that’s depressing to think about.
Glancing back at the bed, I sigh. The sheets are crumpled, with random bedding strewn across the room like Valentine’s Day confetti. A frown creases my forehead when I see my little black dress folded on the dresser, my heels neatly set in front of it. When I go to dress, I get a whiff of fabric conditioner—and it’s not the one that I use. Has this been cleaned?
The smell vaguely reminds me of Silas, but there’s something missing. Something spicy and musky and warm that’s entirely his own.
My panties are nowhere to be found, however. I shove my dress on, the fabric gripping my ass as tightly as a drunken frat boy at a bar. After five minutes of searching, I give up. My bare feet slap against the marble flooring, and I can’t help but gawk at the sheer opulence on display.
I was too busy to notice all this last night, but now I’m being nosy. The kitchen is dominated by an island that seems almost too big to be functional. There’s buttons set into the marble countertops that I assume must do something, but god knows what. I don’t dare touch anything, but as I walk into the enormous living room my restraint is tested by the chandelier cascading down above my head. The sunrise twinkles in every crystal pendulum, and I reach my hand up, stopping myself at the last second.
If I break that thing, I’d probably have to sell my goddamn kidney to pay for it.
Where is Silas? Has he just left? He could have at least signposted the exit. This apartment-turned-palace is big enough to need it.
Attempting to find my way out, I accidentally walk into what I think is a gym. Most of the floor is covered with soft mats that remind me of being back in gym class, but there’s punching bags too. Or at least I think they’re punching bags—there’s one shaped like a waterdrop, a normal cylindrical one, and even one that is fastened to both the floorandthe ceiling, weirdly. I recognize some of the other equipment in here—mouthguards, shin guards, and various padded shields—thanks to Brett dumping his wrestling equipment all over our apartment.
