He laughed, and the finger began to advance with its awkward, uncomfortable feeling, but one I liked. I’d only gotten Matt to do it a few times when I’d asked for it and he’d been drunk. Who would have thought a doctor would be squeamish about that?
I moaned when he pushed deeper. “Fuck, Silas.”
“Take it. You like it in this tight, little ass?”
“I do.” The finger went all the way to the knuckle. “So much.”
His cock flexed and I moaned again; this one was throaty and desperate. If I had use of my hands . . . I struggled against his hold, but it was futile.
“I want to touch myself,” I gasped.
“You want your hands back?” I couldn’t see him, but I pictured him with a cocky smile. “Say please.”
“Fucking please.”
His hand let go, and I swallowed back a breath as my shoulders protested. But it faded quickly. There were other sensations going on that took higher priority. His hard cock drove into me, and his finger thrust deep in a matching rhythm. It felt impossibly good, and I twitched when I wedged my arm between my body and the table, and touched my fingers to my clit.
It wouldn’t take me long like this—
I cried out when my head jerked back. Silas had grabbed my hair and yanked. Hard. The pain was white-hot and then gone when he let go. His action had forced me up, and I supported myself with one hand flat on the table. Wouldn’t dare stop what I was doing as my fingers fumbled over my clit, though. I was so close. Lava pumped through my veins, making me hazy. His hand was on my breast, squeezing. Gripping it so hard it stole my breath.
Silas fucked me like I had pissed him off, not the other way around, but it was what I needed. He was rewarding me with punishment. I deserved to be mistreated. To be used.
It’s what you did to Paul.
Only he hadn’t gotten enjoyment out of me using him. All he’d received was betrayal and a self-inflicted gunshot.
“Rougher,” I pleaded.
Silas slowed his tempo and his grip fell away from my breast. “Jesus. I’m not really into . . .”
I shook my head, forcing the emotions back. I didn’t really want it rougher, either. It was a reflex. Anything to keep me from thinking about Reno. Why the hell had I allowed myself to do that? It was more proof that Silas wasn’t just fucking me, but he was fucking my mind, too.
“No, don’t stop,” I whispered. “I’m right there.” My hand rubbed furiously and the tremble built in my core, vibrating outward as the tendrils of the orgasm corded around me. My desperate request set Silas off. He returned to his punishing tempo both with his hips and hand.
“Come on my cock.”
His dirty order launched me into ecstasy.
“Oh, oh!” Pleasure burst and consumed, and it went on and on. Each wave of it was amazing. My arm went weak and I collapsed forward, gasping for breath while the aftershocks swept through me. My hair flopped down on my face, but I didn’t care. Everything was tingling.
Only when I fell on the table, the speaker stand with his phone tipped over. There was a chime, the rap song cut off, and a new song began to play. We both froze.
“It’s on shuffle now,” he said. His finger retreated. He took a deep breath, and he began to move inside me again.
Sparks flashed upward from where we were connected as I was still incredibly sensitive. “The song . . . change it . . .”
“I’m busy.” His hands were on my waist, pulling me back onto him so he could push even deeper than before. Holy shit it felt good, but the strains of the synthesizer were distracting.
“Silas.”
“What?” He pretended he was serious. “I can fuck you while listening to Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing if I want.”
The guitar wails began and I laughed. He’d gone from intense to silly in the blink of an eye, and I kind of loved it.
“Fine,” I said. “Just know if you start singing along, I’m out.”
“Got it.”