Whatever protest he was going to make faded when my hands gripped him through his jeans, and I scratched my nails across his fly. I lifted up on the balls of my feet and slammed my mouth against his, thrusting my tongue past his lips. His mouth was hot and soft, and in no time he matched my urgency. The slide of his tongue over mine hinted what it’d be like if I let him fuck me with it, and a fresh wave of bargaining stormed through my brain. Let him go down on you. It’s just oral sex, not real sex, so still okay.
Goddamnit, no.
His hands found my breasts like they were magnetized to them. I loved his harsh, sure grip. Men treated my breasts like they were delicate and fragile, but shit, they weren’t balls. Fucking squeeze them. I liked it rough, and confident, which was exactly how he gave it to me.
He made no attempt to stop me when I undid his pants, and he stayed quiet when I worked them down. But when I followed his jeans’ descent and was on my knees before him, Silas’s eyes clouded with uncertainty.
Like any man, he wanted to fuck, but wasn’t about to turn down a blowjob either.
The kitchen bled into the living space, and we’d ended up right in the transition between them, so I knelt on the linoleum flooring and jerked his boxers down until they were wadded at his ankles like his jeans. His cock sprang free, already hard and huge.
His voice seemed strained with pleasure. “Shit.”
I covered him with both hands and squeezed. Hard, and harder, until I heard the low noise of discomfort that said I was right at the edge of what he could take. The column of flesh was firm and pulsing, but covered in soft skin, and decorated with the silver jewelry.
“Did this hurt?” I asked. “Getting pierced?”
“I didn’t cry like a little bitch,” he said. “But it wasn’t enjoyable.”
I watched him now like he had watched me. My grip twisted and pumped, sliding along the ridge of the head, and my thumb brushed over the sensitive tip, spreading around the drops of wetness. He lifted up the hem of his shirt to keep it out of my way, and he set his hand on his stomach. The fingers rested there, fanned out on the perfectly cut abdominals. Good God. How would he react if I ran my tongue over those muscles? Every inch of him was so goddamn lickable.
But I’d stick to where he most wanted me to lick. I opened my mouth and swept the underside of his cock across the tip of my tongue. His expression was . . . nervous.
“Are you worried about what I’m going to do to you?” My voice was low and coy.
“Of course not.”
Oh, but he was. He was definitely worried I was going to make him come and ruin his chances of getting laid, which he was right about. It was exactly my plan. I held him tight around the base, opened wide, and took him deep inside my mouth. The connection of gazing at him while he watched me was unexpectedly hot.
So I continued to focus on his eyes with every slow thrust and withdrawal of my mouth. His cock seemed to grow harder the longer I looked at him. My hand not holding him steady, reached up and splayed over his stomach, overlapping with his fingers.
“Your eyes . . .” he said between shallow breaths, “keep moving . . . except when you’re looking at me.”
Oh, shit, was that true? He was a major distraction in all the right ways. I bobbed my head faster, spinning my tongue. He let out a moan. It was actually more of a low growl of appreciation, and was undeniably the sexiest thing I’d ever heard.
His fingers threaded through my hair, twisting the strands loosely around his fingertips. There wasn’t tension in them at first. It was more as if he wasn’t sure where to put the hand that wasn’t beneath mine on his abs. But as I sped up, his fingers tightened to give me gentle nudges, urging me to take him deeper.
It’d be possible if he weren’t so huge. My jaw was already uncomfortable from the intrusion. And suddenly those fingers clenched into a fist at base of my skull and held me in place, getting me to back off.
“Okay, slow down, Regan.” It was equal measure plea and command.
No way was I slowing down. I ignored the dull ache in my hair and continued to move at my pace. His expression was intense and a war appeared to roar behind his eyes. His desire to move to the bed was pitted against his body’s urges to keep receiving pleasure.
“Shit,” he said. “You’re hell bent on raping me with that mouth, aren’t you?”
I giggled as I paused on him, but stroked my hand along his wet length. “Raping you? You don’t want this?”
His lips parted to say something, but he seemed unsure of what.
Yeah, I thought so. “Can’t rape the willing, Silas.”
“This isn’t how I want it—” He gritted it out through clenched teeth, enduring my hand.
“Too bad.” Power flooded through me as I threw his words back at him. “I’m going to watch you come like this.” And I shoved my mouth around him, sucking as hard as I could.
His knees softened and he slid a half an inch down the wall in response. God, the idea that I could bring this giant of a man to his knees made me burn. Maybe next time I could—
Nope. There couldn’t be a next time. After Reno, I’d sworn never to get involved while undercover, and who knew what kind of relationship Silas had with his sister? She could walk in at any moment and I’d be made. Even though I didn’t know Caroline personally, we’d seen each other. She might not remember I was FBI, but she’d know I was government. Really, she’d know I wasn’t who Silas thought I was.