He leaned me back in his arms. His mouth sucked on my tits, alternating from one to the other, and my climax closed in. The moans from me built in urgency until they were desperate cries.
“I’m gonna come, I’m gonna . . . shit. Oh, shit!” My body tensed in anticipation of the flood of pleasure, and it didn’t disappoint. Everything else faded away until all that was left was ecstasy. It exploded sharply, stealing my breath, and as it rolled down my spine, I quivered.
I’d just finished when he seemed to start. He struggled for breath, and the arms holding me up tightened, and deep inside I felt the rhythmic pulses as he went. I scrambled to find the remote in his hands and click the button as he groaned with satisfaction. His face was wrought with pleasure, and watching him like this . . . all sorts of sexy.
I sealed my lips over his, trying to drink up the last of his moans as I rode out the end of his orgasm.
For a long moment we remained still, our bodies glued together with exhaustion, our lips fused. Then I tipped my head further still, resting my sweaty forehead on the bony part at the top of this shoulder.
Silas’s hand slid gently up and down my bicep, and then I was shifted in his arms, slowly lowered back to the rug. He withdrew from me, peppering kisses along my jawline, working his way to my ear.
“I’ll be right back, don’t go anywhere.”
“Where would I go?” I said. “You were right, I’m too tired.”
He laughed softly as he climbed to his feet and padded out of view. My spent body gave me no choice but to lie prone on the fluffy rug in a post-sex haze. I heard water run briefly. He had to be using the utility sink that was on the south wall of the studio.
An alarm blared in my head that I needed to extract myself from the situation ASAP to avoid awkward cuddling, but I promptly hit snooze. There was a snap of a light switch and light spilled from the corner. A creaking sound rang out and grew quieter. He’d gone upstairs to his apartment? I should use the opportunity to collect my clothes and start pulling them on, but everything was working against me. I was starting to get cold and the rug was soft and warm. It was late, and the release of tension had made me incredibly sleepy. I just needed five more minutes.
The creak of the steps grew louder as he returned. A click, and the two lights on poles died. The only light in the room was the one over the stairs leading to his apartment that he’d left on. Silas carried two pillows and the comforter I’d seen on his bed.
It amazed me how quickly I could go from being sweaty and hot, to freakishly cold after a workout, and lying on a floor with only faux fur between the concrete and me wasn’t helping. Silas draped the comforter over my shivering body.
“Thank you.”
“I thought about carrying you upstairs to my bed, but we’d never fit on the stairs.”
“You barely fit on the stairs.”
I took the offered pillow he extended to me and mashed it under my head. It was a damn good thing it’d worked out this way. Getting into his bed was a bad idea. I said nothing as he dropped the other pillow beside me, sat down, and stuck his feet under the covers. He looked like he was preparing to settle in. Would his arm curl around me next? My heartbeat quickened.
With worry.
Not with excitement . . . Right?
“You forgot to turn off the music,” I said.
“No, I didn’t.” The rock music continued to play in the background. Could he not hear it? My lack of response must have forced him to continue. “I told you, I don’t like the quiet.” He settled down beside me, tugging the comforter up to mid-chest.
“Why?”
He wasn’t touching me, and it was dark, but I could sense the unease in him. This one word was questioning something . . . difficult. His pause was exactly the same I had whenever someone saw my scar and casually asked, “What’s that from?”
“It’s stupid,” he said.
“You don’t have to tell me.” Even though I’d shared my most traumatic secr
et with him, it didn’t require him to do the same. Why the hell did I want him to, though?
I jumped when his body enveloped mine, his warm hand sliding over my stomach beneath the heavy comforter. My breath stalled in my lungs. I wasn’t supposed to allow this. Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to like it either.
“My grandparents used to have this giant hand-carved cabinet. The thing was solid. Sometimes my sister and I would take the blankets out of it and play inside.”
There wasn’t any anxiety in his voice, but there didn’t need to be. I could sense exactly where his story was headed.
“I don’t remember what I did to piss Caroline off. That’s my sister.” The pad of his middle finger traced an infinity loop on my bare skin. “Whatever it was, it was bad. To get back at me, she locked me in the cabinet and told everyone I’d gone across the street to a friend’s house to play in their back yard.”
I blew out a breath. “How old were you?”