Page 18 of The Silent Hour

The silk whispered against my skin as he dragged it upward, his palms mapping the curve of my hips, the dip of my waist, the swell of my breasts with a possessiveness that made my breath catch. He drew back slightly, his eyes two shards of obsidian glittering in the amber-dark room.

"Come here," he murmured, his voice gravel-rough with sleep and desire as his hands locked around my hips. He pulled me over him in one fluid motion until I was straddling his face, the heat of his breath searing through me. His hands immediately gripped my thighs, fingers digging into the soft flesh with a strength that brooked no argument. He didn’t let me hover; he anchored me firmly against his mouth, his tongue driving into me with a rhythm that was both claiming and familiar. Every thrust dragged another violent tremor from deep within me until my body was nothing but exposed nerve endings and liquid fire racing toward the edge.

My hands fisted in the dark sheets on either side of his head, my thighs tightening against his ears as I ground down against his mouth with everything I had. The angle was obscene—my hips rolling forward in a slow, deliberate circle that pressed me flat against his tongue, and the sound he made vibrated through every nerve ending I owned.

"That's it," he rasped against me, his palms sliding up my thighs to grip my hips tighter. He didn't push—he held, fingers digging into the soft skin above my hipbones with enough pressure that I knew I'd feel it for days. "Use me, Julia. Take it."

I did. My back arched, my head falling back. His tongue found the spot that made my vision white-out and pressed there, flat and unrelenting, and my hips stuttered against him in short, desperate rolls.

My heels dug into the mattress on either side of his ribs, and I rode him harder, faster, chasing something that kept climbing and climbing without ever quite reaching the edge. His hands tightened on my hips, and I felt his groan against my clit—a deep, resonant vibration that shattered whatever thin thread of composure I had left. My thighs trembled, the muscles burning, and I ground down against him with a desperation that bordered on violence.

"Ethan—." My voice cracked on his name, barely a whisper.

He pressed deeper. His mouth sealed tight over my clit, his tongue flicking the swollen bud in rapid, relentless circles. His fingers dug into my hips, yanking me harder onto his face until my thighs clamped against his ears and my wetness smeared his chin. I felt the blunt pressure of his nose grinding against my opening with each downward pull.

I shattered. The first contraction ripped through me—a violent clenching deep inside my pussy that forced a guttural cry from my throat. His hands kept me impaled on his mouth as my hips bucked wildly. Wave after wave of spasms clenched around nothing, each pulse wringing slick fluid onto his tongue. He swallowed greedily while his fingers spread me wider.

He didn't relent.

His lips closed around my oversensitive clit again, sucking gently now but with insistent pressure.

His tongue-tip traced slow figure-eights across the throbbing nerve bundle, dragging fresh tremors from my core. My inner muscles fluttered helplessly around phantom fullness. My thighs quivered violently, slick with sweat and my own fluids. My knuckles bleached white in the tangled sheets, fingers cramping with the force of my grip.

"You're so fucking gorgeous like this," he rasped before devouring me with renewed hunger.

Another orgasm hit quick and merciless, and this time I didn't bother to hold back. My cry—high and broken—filled the room, bouncing off walls. Before I could even think about catching my breath, Ethan flipped me onto my back like I was nothing more than a doll. His mouth crashed onto mine, consuming every gasp and whimper that spilled from my lips, forcing me to taste my own cum on his lips.

I loved every second of it.

His hands slid down my thighs, pushing them wide open until they were hooked over his broad shoulders.

The stretch was brutal, my pussy throbbing with the strain, but Ethan just grinned, kneeling between my legs, his cock—hard, thick—lined up perfectly with my entrance.

Ethan's thick cock speared into me without warning, stretching my pussy walls until they burned. My gasp choked off as he bottomed out, his balls slapping against my ass. When my pussy instinctively clenched around his invading length, he growled and withdrew until only his swollen tip remained inside, glistening with my juices. Then he hammered back in—a brutal, hip-snapping thrust that shoved me up the mattress, my back arching off the sheets.

"Fuck, Lia," he rasped, sweat dripping from his brow onto my lips as he ground his pelvis against my clit. "Your pussy's sucking me deeper every time." His calloused hands pinned my thighs apart, spreading me wider as he pistoned his cock in short, punishing strokes. I felt every ridge of his shaft dragging against my inner walls, the stretch bordering on pain.

My nails shredded his shoulders as he fucked into my trembling body, each withdrawal leaving me hollow before the next savage penetration. His thumb circled my clit in tight, bruising circles while his other hand twisted in my hair, forcing my throat taut. I couldn't speak—only whimper as he drilled into my G-spot, the relentless pressure coiling heat low in my belly.

"Feel that?" He snapped his hips harder, his balls slapping my ass with wet smacks. "Your greedy pussy's milking me already." His fingers dug into my hips, lifting me onto his cock as he thrust upward. The angle made me scream—his crown grinding my front wall while his pubic bone crushed my clit. "Squeeze me harder when you come," he ordered, slamming home so deep I felt him in my throat.

My orgasm tore through me: violent spasms rippling from my clit to my asshole, my pussy clenching rhythmically around his buried shaft. Ethan never slowed, fucking through my convulsions with jackhammer thrusts that prolonged the agony. "There's my girl," he grunted, watching tears leak from my eyes as my body jerked. When my nails scrabbled at the sheets, he hooked my legs over his elbows, spreading me obscenely wide to plunge deeper.

"Fuck, you're dripping down my balls," he groaned, rubbing my engorged clit roughly with his thumb. "Gonna come again?" He punctuated each word with a downward grind that rubbed my clit against his pelvis. My hips bucked involuntarily—a second climax detonated instantly, white-hot and electric. He pinned my wrists above my head, slamming into me.

His thrusts turned shallow and relentless, filling me until I felt stuffed, his swollen head catching on my entrance with every withdrawal. "I'm nowhere near done wrecking this perfect pussy."

His thrusts deepened then, slower, deliberate, grinding against every tender, oversensitive spot he'd just wrecked. His strong hands slid under my arched back, holding me to him like a possession, his mouth trailing wet, open kisses over my jaw, my throat, his voice rough in my ear.

This wasn't just about the fuck.

It was about him owning me, staking his claim in the oldest way he knew how—and God, I could never get enough of it. My legs shook against his broad shoulders, my thighs slick and trembling. Ten years of marriage, two kids, a mortgage, and I still came apart for him like I was that same reckless girl in his penthouse the night we made it official, his cock raw inside me for the first time, my nails in his back, both of us pretending we weren't already in love.

"Harder," I pleaded, my fingers wrapping around the thorned vine inked along his forearm, squeezing until I felt the muscle flex beneath.

He broke his rhythm and rebuilt it rougher—each thrust longer, heavier, like he was trying to reach something inside me that words never could. I was sobbing before I realized it, tears hot on my temples, my voice cracked open around his name, begging for mercy I didn't actually want.

He came with a low, shuddering groan, bottoming out and holding there, his cock pulsing deep inside me, each throb slow and deliberate. His full weight settled over me, his chest heaving against mine, his heartbeat loud and unsteady against my sternum. I wrapped my arms around his back and held on.