Page 50 of Yours on the Canvas

He looks at me now, his hands planted on the bed an inch from my skin, his knees bracketing my thighs, and I feel his closeness begin to wrap around me like a warm blanket, till all I can see is him.

I swallow hard, my body reacting to his heat, and I shift slightly, my cock seeking contact, but he pulls his hips away.

“Baby… I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He says, leaning down, pressing a small kiss to my lips.

Frustration rips through me and a growl escapes me, making my needs clear. Silas’ arms wrap around me, his weight dropping as he pulls me into him.

“Okay… easy,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

I bare my throat to Silas, and he understands the invitation, the request I’m giving him.

He leans in, brushing gentle touches along my neck. His mouth is soft, his breath warm, on my skin.

I haven’t touched him yet, and my fingers tighten on my pajama pants, every instinct screaming at me to push him off, to keep the distance that has always made me feel safe.

But when I look at Silas, there’s no demands, or expectancy in his eyes, all I see is care, devotion. Perhaps love?

“Please Silas. Help me feel something good.” I reach up and kiss him lightly. “Make the bad go away. I trust you, Sol.”

He closes his eyes at my last words, then opens them again, tears gathering along his lashes.

“Oh, dove.”

Silas’ fingers tighten against my skin, and my whole body tenses, bracing for a ghost that isn’t there anymore. He feels the panic ripple through me and releases his grip at once, sliding his hand up to cradle my face like I’m something fragile enough to shatter.

“You’re mine, Jack,” he says softly, “but that means I protect what you give me. Your trust, your permission. You.”

His thumb strokes my cheek, slow and steady, grounding me. “I promise I will never just take it,” he whispers. “And I will never break it.”

Tears stream down my temple as I stare up at him, the shadows of the past still clinging to the edges of my vision. I swallow hard, reaching out to press my palm over his.

Silas has always given me the space to breathe, to decide what I want. Always given me a choice. So, I choose. Him.

“Silas?” My voice shakes, barely more than a breath. “Touch me.”

His eyes soften, something fierce and tender flickering through them. His lips crash to mine, and I open for him. He devours me, one lick at a time. Owning my mouth. Owning me.

For the first time in my life, touch doesn’t feel like something painful. It feels like something I’m choosing to keep.

12

Silas

Kissing Jack feels like breathing for the first time, a sudden rush of warmth wrapping around my ribs, bright and alive, something I never want to let go of for the rest of my life.

Jack is the light of my life, the world I never knew how to open myself to, and the heavy ache in my chest vanishes the second I’m near him. Jack taught me how to live again.

I breathe him in as I kiss him, skin to skin, chest to chest. Jack’s cock twitches against mine, and I grow hard as steel, grinding down onto him.

Kissing my way down his body, my lips find his left nipple. I suck hard, pulling a loud moan from him, feeling the vibrations under my lips before I shift to the right, giving it the same attention. Jack’s body writhes, and I nip at the peak. He yelps at the bite, but a hot strip of my spit chases the sting, and I blow a cool breath over it, watching it pebble against his skin.

Moving lower, my tongue maps every valley until I stop at his waistband. I look up, my eyes hooded as I take him in. His cock presses against my chin, still trapped in the material, and as I watch him,his head thrown back, throat bared to me, fingers clenching tight into the bed sheets, I smile.

“Dove?” I murmur against his skin, feeling him tremble. “Baby?”

“Touch me, Sol. Please,” he whispers.

My heart lights up at his nickname for me.